Monday, February 23, 2015

Things I could do when I was 11 that I cannot do now



A back bend
Not only could I do a back bend when I was 11, I could do the kind where you start out standing up and lean backward until your hands touch the ground. And then get back up.

Now I cannot even do the kind that the yoga instructor on youtube wants me to do, which is where you start on your back, press your hands behind your shoulders, and then push up.

I cannot even do a sissy backbend.

Thread a needle in any conditions
I used to sew most of my own clothes and all the clothes for my dolls. (No, you do not do inset sleeves for Barbie clothes.)

I also used to knit, crochet, and embroider.

I have mad needle skills. (Thank you, Mom, for teaching me yet more essential life skills. My mother also taught me to cook - when I was 11, I could also chop an onion, cut up a whole chicken, and separate eggs, which made the first few days at my cooking class in France on my cooking school vacation very annoying: I did not go to cooking school to learn the ABCs of cooking.)

I could thread a needle anywhere, with almost any amount of light.

Now.

Now I still do light mending. I no longer sew my clothes because it is, sadly, cheaper to buy clothes made in sweatshops (I assume most of Banana Republic's and Ann Taylor's clothes are made in sweatshops) than to sew them myself. (Assuming I would sew with nice fabric, which I would. Nice fabric - if you can even find it - is not cheap.)

I mend. I hem. I sew buttons.

But it is getting harder and harder to get that thread through the eye of the needle. What will I do when I can no longer thread my own needles? Will I have to pay someone else to mend my clothes? I would hate that.

Sleep
When I was 11, I could fall asleep and stay asleep. I did not have bizarre dreams like being in a tub of cold water, trying to shave my legs with a broken razor, and having to lift the big flaps of skin on my calf to shave underneath them only to find that there were hunks of hair, like enough to make a ponytail.

I am pretty sure I do not want to know what that dream means, although I suspect it is a lamentation for the loss of youth or regret that I did not eat any of the red velvet cheesecake our admin brought into work today.

When I was 11, I did not lie awake in the middle of the night, wondering if I had done the right thing by not marrying my college boyfriend, wondering if SH and I would have enough money for retirement and what would we do if we didn't, wondering how I had failed so miserably at my career and where did I make the wrong choices, wondering if there really is a God and there better be because heaven is the only way (assuming I go there, which is not a slam dunk by any means) I will ever get to see my dad again, wondering what that weird rattle is and is it the furnace, breaking again and does that mean another several thousand dollars on something I thought I wouldn't need to attend to for ten more years, wondering if I can do that thing in Sharepoint that my boss wants me to do or is this yet another example of how Microsoft hates users, wondering if it will ever be warm again, wondering, wondering, wondering.


Eat food with sodium
I used to be able to eat salt, food made with commercial bullion, pickles, and potato chips (not that I have ever been a big chip eater - not because I don't like them but because ten calories per potato chip and who stops at one potato chip?) - and still look like a human being the next day and still be able to wear my shoes without my feet hurting.

But now.

Now when I eat salt, my face looks like I have been sucking on an air pump. My face is all puffy and my fingers are puffy and if I wore rings, which I do not, it would be a problem, and my feet are puffy and my nice high heels hurt.

Not that I wear nice high heels in the winter - I need shoes that go to my knees so I do not freeze my butt off.

But I am all puffy and it's not pretty and it takes a few days for the excess fluids to drain out of my body.

I miss salt.

I miss sleep.

I miss being able to thread a needle easily.

I miss being able to do a backbend.

5 comments:

Gayatri said...

I feel your pain - this post could have been written by me! Ah, youth....

Anonymous said...

Rest assured you are not alone. :-)

Francesca

Michelle said...

Oh, yes. I can relate to losing the ability to sleep and do a bridge/backbend.

Have you looked into easy-threading needles? The fancy ones aren't cheap, but they're still cheaper than having someone else do your mending. And there's always the cheapo needle threaders, which work well with the right thread/needle combination.

Gaylin said...

Reading glasses - that is how I thread a needle. Don't need them for reading . . . yet.

I miss sleep as well, on weekends I often end up sleeping until noon because I get so restless or have hot flashes that when I can sleep in, I do!

I used to be able to do back bends, gymnastics etc. Now I walk a lot - not the same I know. I miss being bendy so I understand.

Erika said...

Snap. Need my reading glasses for sewing. And my hands are starting to get arthritic, which may yet see the end of embroidering. Add to that the number of simple yoga poses (lotus, stork) that I can no longer achieve :(