to make my hands and feet relax.
I’m a bit confused as to the order of
the soak. Feet first or hands first?
To make it easier I try to do all four
at once. I’m feeling like this a game
of Twister rather than an exercise?
I’m okay because I’m bent so low to
the floor I can’t hurt myself, but the
problem is how do I straighten out?
Sometimes, my feet are so relaxed
it takes everything I have to stand
and walk, but for the most part it’s
working. I have become very limber.
If I tied schmattas to my feet, I
bet I could schmatta-skate around
my apartment and dust the floors
at the same time. To get into the
corners of the rooms, I’m trying to
perfect a pirouette without breaking
something. Preferably not my
other arm. When I really get good, I
think I’ll try a Fred Astaire routine.
Could I use a mop as a dancing
partner? It’ll be less lonely. As for
my hands, they are improving to
the point where I can almost lift up
a small pot of boiled water. Next
step – figure out what to do with
the boiled water. I really need to be
careful with these innovations. I’ve
learned the hard way that you’re
never too old to really hurt yourself
trying something new.
Another thought. How about
jumping rope? As a kid I loved it.
I could jump forever. Now, I might
be able to jump once every thirty
minutes. It’ll take me that long
to recover from my shortness of
breath and the pain in my knees.
Nah! Worse than that, it might
mess up my hair if I don’t have a
rope long enough to go around me.
There’s a lot more to go around
these days. I guess my priorities
must have changed. Beauty above
all else! Maybe my friends might
join me? We could keep a social
distance and when the ambulance
comes to take one of us away,
there’ll definitely be more room.
How about getting a basketball
hoop? If my ceilings are high
enough I’ll get one of those free
standing hoops. They come in different
heights and it might work. I
understand there are six foot hoops
which are recommended for small
children from kindergarten to second
grade. I think I’m becoming
their height now. I know some
basketball rules because I used
to watch Knicks games with my
husband. According to basketball
rules, to make a three point shot,
the distance between the hoop and
the shooter needs to be at least 22
feet. If I stand by my terrace door
and try for a 3-pointer near my
entranceway, it might work. At 5
feet 6 inches it might be difficult
to make a dunk, but with months
of practice I might be able to do
it. What? I have somewhere to go
and something else to do? The
only dunk that I’ve ever accomplished
successfully was the donut
I dunked into my coffee. I’m sure
this has nothing to do with that. I
do love donuts. Chocolate glaze
anyone? Do I have to learn to
dribble and pass the ball behind
my back? I’m not sure the dribbling
I do is what it means in basketball
are the same. Who knows? If I get
good enough, maybe the Harlem
Globetrotters might want me. And
yes, they are still around. I loved
watching them years ago. I’m not
sure what they’d want me for but
you never know. Maybe a mascot?
Do you remember “Sweet Georgia
Brown,” the music that was played
while they performed? Instead of
“Sweet Georgia Brown” in my
home I can change it to “Sweet
My life would almost be the new
“excellent” if I could sleep better.
Really? My day starts backwards.
I wake up tired and go to bed
wide awake. I’ve researched that
a healthy sleep not only makes
your life longer but shortens your
workday. Just what I need now that
I’m retired! I get up in the middle of
the night and spend hours praying
to fall back asleep. My prayers are
usually answered about an hour
before my alarm clock is set to
wake me up. The praying doesn’t
always work, but I think I’m
becoming a religious fanatic. I read
a survey somewhere that showed
women sleep better with a dog at
their side. I’m not sure what I’ll do.
Should I get a service dog or two
Another thing I’ve discovered is
power walking. I’m not sure how
much you can call it power walking.
It’s more like power shlepping. I
have trouble walking up a small
bump and need to apply my personal
brakes when walking down
a small bump. Maybe if I walked
One day while I was torturing
myself, I mean walking, I noticed
a woman ride by on what I thought
was a bicycle. She was going so
slow and so straight, my instant
thought was what fabulous balance.
How can she do that? Because my
eyesight is so great(?), for a moment
I thought I even saw training wheels.
Oy! How fabulous!! Then I saw she
was riding a tricycle. OMG! The last
time I saw a tryke was when I was
seven or eight and I was the driver.
Shiny and red. I absolutely loved
it. That happy memory flooded my
thoughts. I couldn’t stop smiling
for the rest of the day. You know I
think I need a tricycle. That would
be the ultimate exercise. Where
could I park it? Do I need to rent
a car spot for it? Do I have to take
it with me to my apartment? Can I
park it on the other side of my bed?
All this has to be worked out and I
definitely need to get a ding-a-ling
bell like I used to have?
I am perpetually looking to find
a glimmer of hope in all that I do
every day. Let me tell you it is not
easy. When you are sad, I am sad.
When you are happy, I am happy.
This is an insane moment in time,
but let me tell you, I’m not suffering
from insanity. I’m enjoying every
minute of it. Yes, I’m really feeling
Stay safe. Stay well. Hula hoop,
THE SNOWBIRD’S DILEMMA
BY MARIAN NEMETSKY
To flee, or not to flee, that is the
Whether ‘tis nobler in our hearts to
The zings and sorrows of cold winter
And bundle up with earmuffs, gloves,
hats and such.
To wait, perchance for snow----
ay, there’s the rub:
For in that snow, what storms
Or do we dare embrace the glorious sun,
Toss our worry about Covid’s lengthy
Travel back to lakes, sand, and a
The vaccine’s not ready----it tests
And gives us pause, but the answer
now comes clear.
Stay, or flee, the sun will come out
December 2020 ¢ NORTH SHORE TOWERS COURIER 17