Was able to go outside yesterday by myself for the first time since my surgery in September. Talk about a birch beer moment (and that's all I shall do is talk about it but only just now and then not again as you do not want to know about my devotion to root beer's light weight brother). It wasn't a hike, by any means but a walk, 'the big walk' as I term it in my house, around the block.
I go down Lincoln Avenue to Oneco Street and, via Mill Lane, over to Lafayette near the Yantic Cemetaery, then on past Backus Hospital to the intersection with Washington Street. i make a right on Washington and walk past where it forks off and forms Broadway at Chelsea Parade South or North (whichever one the Council closed), and past Williams Street, the top of Lincoln to Sachem Street. That's where I make a right and go all the way back down to Oneco where I square the block, right, and walk home on Lincoln.
I'm tired just reading that and to be honest I was more than that by the time I got done. It was about 1100 steps-a month a go I was banging out twenty thousand a day and I have a feeling this is going to be a long, hard slog. I probably should have gathered those rosebuds (and sipped that birch beer) while I may even though it's nearly half past October. As Zevon used to say, "Enjoy a sandwich." But don't make it with white bread, okay. Talk about empty carbs.
I'm doing my Bruce Cockburn impersonation after I remembered encountering a sentence fragment on the Web that haunted me for weeks, 'there's no evidence the llama was acting maliciously.' I wasn't sure I hadn't invented the line and, quite frankly, was sort of to afraid to probe deeply just in case I had.
It hit me last night that the easiest way to find out what, if anything, it meant was to type it into Google and hit search (and no, I didn't think to use Bing went the strings of my heart). Here's what I found to place the line in a sad but true context. Leading me to conclude that when llamas are outlawed, only outlaws named Lorenzo will have llamas, malicious and otherwise.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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