I sit here thinking that I have so much to post about, and yet I do not know what to post.

Do I write about the fact that school is ending and share all the excitement and trepidation that brings with it? The girls will be home! YAY! The girls will be home! YIKES!!!

Do I write about my Mother’s impending retirement, and the mixed feelings this daughter has about that? So thrilled to have more time with my Mom, excited about the freedom she has more than earned, looking forward to seeing what adventures she and my Dad will have from this point forward, yet terrified when I think too hard about this milestone and all it means.

Do I tell you about my continued challenges with my back, and all the other little plunky things my body seems to be working through? The relief that they can find nothing wrong and yet the fear that they have still been unable to eliminate MS as the culprit? I like the “nothing is wrong” theory, and yet rationality has never been my strong suit so I worry and I wonder, but refuse to allow myself to woe.

Or should I share my joy that after an intense period of travel, Zan’s schedule has calmed down and our family seems to be re-stabilizing? Mister no longer asks when Daddy is coming home for a visit, and the neighbors have come to believe our assurances that we are truly not, in fact, separated.

Maybe I need to tell you about the Showtime series The Tudors that has captured my *ahem* attention…and how much I love watching it on my iPad through Netflix after everyone else is in bed. (If I could marry my iPad I would. My camera could be my best man.)

Or do I whisper about my secret addiction and the embarrassing truth that I am all fangirly about the June 30th release of Eclipse? (Team Edward!)

Maybe I should share with you the fact that we have only one weekend this summer that doesn’t have something scheduled into it, and I am holding onto that weekend for dear life.

Or I could tell you about our upcoming vacation in Ocean City, NJ? Or about our planned late summer vacation to Disneyworld? Both of which have us all on the edge of our seats in anticipation. 🙂

So many things I could tell you…some of which are lighthearted or foolish…and others that I just can’t dwell on without getting all overwhelmed and jellystomached. Therefore I will settle for sharing this little snapshot of this moment in my brain, and perhaps I can come up with a more cohesive post once my mind settles into a more stable rhythm! Life is good, I am blessed, and change is a part of life…it just so happens that it is a part I’m not so good at.

I am healing.

I have good days and bad days, but am on my feet and moving and living life again, so I have few complaints.

I ache like a 90 year old woman in the mornings, and feel about as crochety as the crabby ones!  But within two hours have worked out most of the kinks.

I walked on a treadmill at Physical Therapy yesterday.  Or shall I say, “I moved my feet and hung onto the bars of a treadmill with a death grip for my dear life yesterday.”  My PT said I was ready…I begged to differ.  “Lengthen your stride,” he said.  “What?  A 12 inch stride isn’t long enough?  It gets me where I’m going,” I said.  And he raised his eyebrows at me, crossed his arms over his chest, and scolded me with nothing more than a look.  I felt like a child again.  Which is good, cause it counteracted the whole 90 year old woman thing.  “You don’t have to hold onto the bars quite so tightly,” he said.  “Do you WANT to pick me up off the floor?” I said.  And again, with the eyes.   “You aren’t following through with your step,” he said.  “How can you tell that?” I said.  “Hear that grinding sound the machine is making?  That’s how I know…so follow through with that left foot.”  “*sigh*” I said, and again with the look.

So then, I quit being ornery and gave it the old college try, and before I knew it, I was walking….REALLY walking, with a full stride and a little bit of speed, and the biggest shock of all…..it felt GOOOOOOOD!  🙂  And just like any good teacher, my dear PT went from arms crossed, eyebrows raised, to cheering me on and praise for the five minutes I managed to stay on this machine.  And also, like any good teacher, he reminded me that fear can be the most damaging thing of all.

Things are looking up!  WhooHoo!

I’m making strides in leaps and bounds this week….(OK….no leaping and no bounding *quite* yet) but real strides!  WhooHoo!

I’m slow and awkward, but standing straight and cane-less!  WhooHoo!

And I even graduated to homework exercises from my PT!  WhooHoo!

Who knew homework could be such a welcome thing?

For my birthday back in December, my dear husband Zan gave me the coolest gift ever.  Some of you may think me odd for finding this gift unbelievably fascinating, but props go to Zan for knowing me well enough to understand that this gift would be a favorite of mine.

A 102 year old dictionary was my gift.

Printed in 1908, it is in outstanding condition considering it’s age, and it is HUGE….approximately six inches thick, covered in deteriorating suede. The printed edging is quite lovely…

Although the name “Webster” is in its title, apparently this is not an authentic Webster’s dictionary.  I had difficulty finding any history on this publishing.  However the little that I did come across mentions the fact that Webster let his copyright expire, thereby allowing other publishers to “steal” the name and use it in their own adapted versions of his original dictionary.

This publisher, Ogilvie, was one of the guilty parties to this practice.  It is now common knowledge in the Dictionary World (wherever that is) that only dictionaries published by Merriam-Websters are bona fide Websters dictionaries. Who knew?

Most fascinating to me is the “Faulty Diction” section whereas upon reading it, do consider myself an inarticulate individual indeed.

Some of my favorite “faults” include the frequent misuse of the term “off of” and the word “nasty.”

And I quote:

“Off of.  Always a specimen of redundancy.  In ‘a pound of chops off of the loin,’ the ‘of’ is superfluous.  In ‘a yard off of a piece of silk,’ either ‘off’ or ‘of’ should be omitted.  In ‘Get off of the horse,’ ‘of’ is the sign of an ignorant or vulgar speaker.”

Let’s see what Ogilvie’s dictionary says about “nasty”…..

“Nasty. Offensive to American ears when used in the sense of disagreeable.  ‘This word, at best not well suited to dainty lips,’ says White, ‘is of late years shockingly misused by British folk who should be ashamed of such defiled English…..For hardly three other English words are so nearly the same in meaning as dirty, filthy, and nasty: of which the last expresses the greatest offense to all the senses….This slangy misuse of the word is rarely or never heard in the United States.'”

Seriously, I could go on and on.  I never knew reading the dictionary could be so entertaining.  🙂