I love walking. It’s not only good exercise, it’s “me time”; quiet, thinking, escape time. There are lots of local walks that give me the same sense of peace as Hazardous↑ and I can spend hours wandering around.
Well I used to anyway. These days most of the walking I do is to and from the stores. To lessen the impact of that reality, I pretend I’m in Second Life.
I also used to dress like the professional I was. Very put together. These days I get roused before 5:00 am and just grab the first things I can – I then spend the rest of the day in a baggy sweater and sweat pants.
My walks to the store at this time of year mean I also put on a large rain & windproof jacket, wrap a long scarf around my neck, and add mitts and a knit cap which is supposed to be loose and stylish. In fact it’s too small, so it looks like a skull cap with a weird bit that juts out the top. A fashionista I’m not.
I do have two very important accessories. My nephew gave me a brightly patterned backpack – it’s standard for all “women of a certain age” in my area – you can carry a lot more groceries this way.
My second piece of equipment is an old, wireframe, luggage-type cart. It’s too short, or I’m too tall, but either way our heights don’t match. As a result, it has a bunch of duct tape wrapped around the handle and an old strap which I use to drag it around behind me. Very stylish!
I tried replacing it. I got a more modern one with a drawstring bag. It was the correct height, but I discovered a serious design flaw the first time I used it. The hard plastic wheels have treads molded into them. Trust me, when you’re pulling 40 pounds of kitty litter, the last thing you want is traction!
The old wire one was resurrected from storage. Unfortunately, I bent one of the wheels on some uneven pavement yesterday. Now it produces a loud metallic screech which provides an intriguing sound track to my travels.
Somehow I’ve transformed from Murphy Brown into either a bag lady or Mr. Bean. The world might see a blue Pilsbury Dough girl, with pointy head, backpack, and ear-drum shattering cart heading to the shops. In my mind, though, I’m just Honour McMillan wandering around Hazardous↑.