photo by Chandra Joy Kauffmann
Henry is resentful. He’s upset. I didn’t take him along on my recent trip to visit my children in California. He wanted to go, but I had decided it would be best to leave him behind this time. He did accompany me on my trip to Nevada in July, but he was kept behind at airport security for further interrogation, and I was at the gate before I realized he wasn’t with me. Well, what do you expect? My memory isn’t what it was when I was 20!
Flying is no longer the pleasure it used to be, so I wasn’t thrilled to have to go back to security to find him. And, security wasn’t quite sure where he’d gone. It was a real nuisance. It seemed more practical to have less to deal with this time.
Flying is no longer a pleasure
Henry’s chagrined
So Henry is chagrined. He’s hurt and not behaving as he should. He’s generally undermining my efforts to know how far I’ve managed to walk each day even though I always remember to invite him along whenever I go out. Come on Henry. Cut it out. I get it. I know you’re angry with me. How long will this go on?
Henry can be temperamental. This isn’t the first time he’s chosen to ignore me. During the heat of the summer, he found my capri pants too disconcerting to concentrate on how far we’d gone. Like me, he isn’t good at double-tasking, and I believe he was endeavoring to romance a nearby resident. Would you call that a double-cross?
Henry is the name I chose to give my pedometer. It was difficult enough to figure out how to use the darn thing — well, okay, I still have problems now and then. However, after having received a new hip, I’m trying to gradually increase the number of steps I take each day. I need Henry’s cooperation to accomplish this. He’s definitely falling down on the job.
Henry is my pedometer
I don’t know why I chose the name Henry. It just came out of the blue. My friend Joe said it means ‘Runs the household’. I checked that with Mr. Google who says Joe is right. Henry obviously already knows this and is throwing his weight around.
Cool it Henry, or I’ll get angry too and toss you out!
I always look forward to reading your blogs. When you mentioned you were taking steps to increase your blog output I had no idea what you meant. I spoke with your children and they informed me that you will not have any input regarding naming your future grandchildren. Love, Brian
Lucky you Brian: You already had your name when you decided to put up with me as a second mom — I might have named you Hannibal! (Chuckle), Love, Lady Muriel
I named my car, “Perdido”, meaning, I thought, “Little Lost One.” I once was supposed to be driving
to West LA , but in fact was going back to Pasadena. My passenger missed her date. She hated me for that one.
‘Perdido’. A fitting name for a car which loses it’s way. Glad someone else other than me has no sense of direction. Stay well, Muriel
This is priceless! You kept me wondering for awhile: “who is this Henry guy?”
Even the picture of Henry the pedometer has a face, and a disgruntled one, at that!
You’ve got it absolutely right Val: Disgruntled is what Henry is these days. He’s cheating me on purpose. Cheers, Muriel
My (nameless) pedometer was just as worrisome to handle so I put it in my drawer several years ago and there it languishes still. But you need your Henry to behave so wiork him harder every day.
A lovely fun way to deal with an important subject. Thanks Muriel.
Interesting Tony: I had just about come to the decision to banish Henry to my drawer, but lo and behold, he gave me over 4,000 steps yesterday! That was the closest to accurate in some time. Do you think I scared him with the thought of being banish-shed? (As Shakespeare would say/) Thanks for reading, love, Muriel