As I sit and painfully knit...

I get to thinking...

Gone are the days when I sat high atop the wagon

looking for all the world like Calamity Jane

riding shotgun on the Deadwood Stage.

A mornings work in the field stacking by hand,
straw bales into piles of eight or ten then,
up onto the trailer to carefully stack, and 'knit' in a very precise
manner, so as to ensure they stay put as we trundle home.
The Vale of York used to reverberate with cries of 
'Whip crack away!' 
As I sat on the throne I made for myself
on the very top.

Once home...
me in the barn catching the thrown bales and stacking again.

I was 40 then, in the rudest of rude.
Taking it all for granted...
Fast forward 'cough, hic, sniff' years and here I am
trying to knit with an altogether softer medium and you know something 
it hurts like hell!

Don't get me wrong, if this is the extent of my ills to date...
I'm fully aware I'm in clover.

It's just...
This is Teflon Lin...
striding, rail-roading, digging, laughing, hugging,
shouting, talking, moaning, groaning, eyebrow raising,
stomping, stamping, giggling, crying, tickling,
say anything (not always wise!), do anything (even  worse!)...  

Me!
('Show some decorum pleeese!')

It's arthritis, the x-rays confirm it.

The lovely Mr. Specialist looking, I ought to say as old as my 
grandson (that is a fib... oh alright then - son).
I naturally took a dislike to, well you would wouldn't you...
Wouldn't you?

'It's wearing' and he showed me where!
'It's minor as yet'
'Minor!'
'What about the pain, that's not very MINOR and the toothache pain
goes from hand to shoulder!'
At this point he did look surprised...
One to me!
'To alleviate the pain I suggest anti-inflammatory gel and pills
and a thumb splint or a steroid injection.'
'Hold tight!  I don't do pills or steroids, I've got enough problems with
my hairy chin as it is!'
'And another thing...
1.  I can't use it when I wear the splint.
2.  They don't make them in purple.
3.  Grubby rose surgical appliances won't do my street cred one jot of good!'

Smiling wanely I could see he had given up the will to practise.
An oath I could see forming, not the Hippocratic type either.

'Sorry I feel I've wasted your time!'
'Well it was lovely to meet you' he gamely lied.

'Look, my legs are fine!'
Oh No, she's not going to peel off her pop-socks to prove it!
I could see flash across his bemused gaze.
'So I will be leaving you!'
Weakly he shook my hand, both him and me conscious of the pain!

Striding down the corridor like a disgruntled
tugboat... I thought...
'All it needed was a magic wand!'