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Saturday, April 26, 2014

Rehabing a Knee


 How do you rehab after knee construction surgery? Keep the leg up, ice it, and drink enough water to drown a whale. A good bit of your time is spent on pain management and physical therapy. Pretty boring stuff, especially since comfortably sitting with your leg up is not an easy task. I can't work on artsy things yet, so I'm reading about artsy things, and I can color with my Copic markers. You know there are 24 hours in a day, that's a lot of hours when your activities are limited. One of the things I've been doing is putting all my quotes in one journal. No biggy you say? Well, yeah it kind of is because I've actively been collecting quotes since I was in high school. At one time I thought about becoming a writer. Don't get too excited, I also wanted to be an architect and a veterinarian. Which is why it took me six years to get through undergrad school!

One of my favorite past times has always been reading. Thank goodness I can do that while rehabbing the new knee. I have always been a  voracious reader. Ever since I learned how to read in Mrs. Richardson's first grade class in Marion Adams Elementary back in Sheridan Indiana. I drove poor Mrs. Richardson plum crazy. I learned to read very quickly and then that's all I ever wanted to do. When it was my turn to read during round robin reading circle, I never knew where we were. She'd fuss and tell me to keep my place, and the next time I still didn't know where I was supposed to be. I can hear her now sayin' "Carole, what on God's green earth are you doing?" I told her I already finished the story and I was reading the next one. "Well just see that you keep your place next time." The time it was my turn I was reading another story and finally I’d read the whole darn book. I remember thinking, what am I going to do now? I can follow along with kids like Bobby Godby or Kenny Greenman who read slower than molasses. So I started reading other books, you know hide them inside my text book. Mrs. Richardson took those too. It didn’t matter much to me just what I read. I just loved to read and learn new things. It wasn’t long before I learned that a thinner book could be more easily hidden inside my text book. That’s when I started reading Archie Comic Books. Mrs. Richardson ended up owning her fair share of those too. My six year old brain could never quite understand why Mrs. Richardson wouldn’t just let me read. I was a good reader, I made straight A’s and could read just about anything I picked up. I’d read just about any ole’ book I could get my hands on, whether it was Grandma’s church magazines, Daddy’s horse magazines or my big brother’s history book. Mrs. Richardson’s older, more mature brain just could not figure out why I would play by the rules and sit there quietly like all the other good little children. In second grade I was in Miss Ring’s class. I loved Miss Ring, she let me read what ever I wanted when ever I wanted. When it was my turn to read, she would calmly tell me where we were, I’d read it aloud, then go back to my book. Miss Ring even found more books for me to read. She introduced me to the first mysteries I’d ever read. Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators. It was a great series of books and from time to time I still see one in a used book store. I wonder what Miss Ring and Mrs. Richardson would think of the Kindle that I have now with tons of books on it?
Quotes? Oh yeah, I found this while I was in College and decided to be a teacher. I guess it's really a poem, but it was in with all my quotes.
A Builder.
A builder built a temple,
He wrought with grace and skill;
Foundation, pillars, arches,
All fashioned to work his will.
 Men said, as they saw its beauty,
"Magnificent it is, my friend,
Great is thy skill, O builder--
Thy fame shall never end!" 

A teacher built a temple
With loving and infinite care,
Planning each arch with patience,
Laying each stone with prayer. 

None praised her unceasing efforts,
None knew of her wondrous plan,
For the temple she was building
Was unseen by the eyes of man. 

Gone is the builder's temple,
Crumpled into the dust;
Low lies each stately pillar,
Food for consuming rust. 

But the temple the teacher fashioned
Will last while the ages roll,
For that beautiful, unseen temple
Was a child's immortal soul.

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