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Abiding Blog
Lucki Melander Wilder

Still digging the blogs. Keep up the good works.  -- Jim (a reader since the first-ever announcement)

These are personal ruminations on divers and sundry topics of interest to me and, I hope, also you. Some are long, some short. Some are silly, some serious. Some are trivial, some profound. Nor is it always easy to tell which is which, even for me. And all opinions expressed are subject to change without notice.

Email me to subscribe or give feedback, or if there's a topic you'd like me to ruminate about. Not all feedback necessarily appears in this page, and may be edited for links, typos, multi-source redundancy, and relevancy. That doesn't mean we consider negative feedback irrelevant or refuse to post it, as negative feedback can often help us learn to do more and better.

Go to #DominicPurcell   #grandMya 2   #LegendsOfTomorrow   #LeonardSnart  #MickRory   #Wentnic   #WentworthMiller   

Y U P !

"Oh my God, at what point does a 'whoa' moment happen?" --  Paul Singer

Emailing with Kim last month reminded me of another entry I wanted to do on the whole injury/recovery thing. Sometimes baby steps are the best we can do. Doesn't mean we shouldn't do them.

I told you how I injured my achilles tendon, how much I recovered, what I kept doing, and what I didn't get back. (To refresh your memory, in addition to last month's entry, check here, here, and here.) But once I started, I kept up with the whole dancing/walking thing anyway. For, as I mentioned, cardio reasons. And kept setting new goals that - at about 110 steps a minutes -- kept taking more and more time, whether I did it all in one go or spread out over several hour-long or even half-hour sessions.

And last winter I was amazed to discover something. Accidentally. Or perhaps I should say serendipitously. For some reason, while I was dancing, I half-awarely tried that bit about rising up on my left foot, with the right one totally off the floor. Not that there'd be even a smidgeon of lift from that left achilles tendon. But ya know, good dance music motivates fancy moves.

And I was correct. I didn't get a smidgeon of lift. I got lift, period. All the way up on my left toes. And held it, disbelieving, for a good ten seconds.


WHOA!"WHOA!" said I. Out loud. I was flabbergasted. I hadn't expected any such result. But there it was.

I talked with Stacy, my physical therapist, about it later. And we arrived at this conclusion: We knew that a tendon doesn't have its own blood supply. It depends on some oxygen and nuitrients "leaking over" from the surrounding muscles' blood supply. But as I met, and raised, and surpassed my goals on a daily basis, the blood flow in the muscles naturally increased. Which allowed more and more oxygen and nutrients to osmose into the tendon. And gradually, smidgeon by smidgeon, it healed more and more.

I never noticed, though. 'Cuz I didn't routinely test that tendon anymore. I just accepted that it couldn't do the job. Until that day. When I tried again for no conscious reason. And it could. So, without fanfare, it did. It did its job.


Khoda hafez,

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"Walking . . . is how the body measures itself against the earth." --  Rebecca Solnit
"Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time." -- Steven Wright

I hit a milestone yesterday. A major milestone. Nay, a humongous milestone. And I didn't even stub my toe.

In grade school. I learned that the United States is about 3,000 miles (that's about 4,825 kilometers) across. We settled for that approximation (by which I mean our teachers did) because the width changes depending on the parameters you use for start- and end-points and mode of travel.

US-Canada borderMore specific is the sometimes zig-zaggy border between Cananda and the contiguous US. It's actually 3,987 miles (6,416 K) long. The border between Canada and the continental US of A, however, is 5,525 miles (8,891 K).

Big difference.

That's 'cuz Canada's border with Alaska, the sole continental state that's not contiguous, is a whopping 1,538 miles (2,475 K). In other words, Alaska alone accounts for well over a quarter of our total border with Canada.

Now, some readers will remember that I was born in New England. And some have read about my trip to Vancouver Island. So they probably know that I've done enough straight-line east/west surface traveling in my lifetime to at least match that nearly-4,000 mile continent-wide border. If not also the more comprehensive, over-5,000 mile distance. Not everyone has had that kind of opportunity in their life - though, of course, many have - so I'm kinda proud of that. In a gentle sort of way.

(By the way, going to Israel didn't figure in, 'cuz I didn't go by surface transport. I flew. And no, my arms didn't get tired. After all, it's not like I had to pull up on the armrests to help keep the plane in the air.)

But I've also intentionally covered a lot of ground mostly just in Chicago over the course not of my whole adult lifetime but merely the last four years. On foot. Walking. Well, and dancing. You've read about it in my blogs. Like here. About my getting a pedometer. Starting a regimen on April 22, 2015. Setting a relatively easy goal. Surpassing it. Jacking it up. Surpassing it again. Etc. My current (and probably final) goal is 30 miles a week. Walking outside when I can. Dancing inside when I must.

Well, for me that 5,525 miles equals 19,448,000 steps. Plus 1 to surpass it. And yesterday, I started the day at 19,444,339 steps. And ended it with 19,459,596.

! ! ! ! !

Gonna keep going, of course. Minimum of five 4-mile and two 5-mile days a week. Don't know what I'll set as my next milestone. Or even if I will. 'Cuz this one pretty much snuck up on me until I noticed my grand totals towards the end of 2018, wondered how it compared to cross-country walking, and calculated/realized how close I was to that lo-o-ong border that includes everywhere the US touches Canada.

Khoda hafez,

P.S. A friend of mine, Nancy, was talking about her daily walking as physical therapy following a severe traffic accident. (She was driving in a funeral motorcade, and some totally oblivious driver at an intersection broadsided her on the driver's side.) She was saying how she didn't like the onset of winter 'cuz it interrupted her PT walking. So I told her about how I dance when I can't walk. Originally to the wonderful SonicTap Retro Disco channel, which really motivated me (only, when AT&T acquired DirecTV, they deep-sixed that contract as fast as they could). But now, out of stubborness, I dance to some far-inferior MusicChoice channels on DirecTV. Or to the radio. Or while watching a TV program. Or talking on the phone. Or whatever it takes to make my daily steps. And she exuded what a good idea that was ... and has been doing it ever since. I'm so glad I had that tool/method to share with her when she needed it. And I'm proud of her.

Tue, Mar 05, 2019 at 1:28 PM, Kim wrote:
  I checked out Abiding Blog, my favorite of your sections. Had not realized that your walking was such a relatively recent habit - wow. So impressive! Congratulations! I take a 1 km walk every afternoon. Takes me 20 minutes ... I enjoy it and I do it, but cannot imagine upping that to 3 miles. Sheesh! You must be hard to keep up with!
   May God's blessings surround you.
Big hugs,


Lucki responds to Kim:
  Well, my walking isn't all that recent a habit. It's the tracking that's recent. And having a daily/weekly goal.
   As a non-driver, I've always enjoyed walking. Long walks with friends. Especially along the lake. Had some especially interesting experiences in the dead of a winter's night on the frozen shore. Or, in good weather, walking alone from one destination to another if I had the time. I think probably my longest single walk was from my dentist to the House of Worship, about 9 miles. Used to cover a kilometer in about 15 minutes, a mile in 22.5.
   Then the big tendon injury happened in the Fall of 2013. And all that walking ground down to about a 0.5-mile limit. And still hurt. Once 2014's PT was done, though, when I was able to walk halfway decently again, I managed to get my time back up to a K in about 20 minutes, a mile (as I warmed up more) in 30.
  But it was in Spring of 2015 that I bought my pedometer, set a relatively easy daily goal, and started keeping track. Mostly for cardio reasons. And the result of that is what I blogged about here. But you've given me an idea for my next entry. Yup. So thank you.
Blessings and big hugs back atcha,
P.S. For heaven's sake, don't try to up your distance from 1 K to 3 miles in one swell foop. If you want to and have the time, try building incrementally, like I did. A nd remember that walking can actually become easier/faster as your muscles warm up (and you go aerobic, too). A kilometer isn't exactly 6/10ths of a mile, but let's use that as a rough guide. Making each increase as the previous one becomes comfortable, it would take about 1 year if an increase once a month works out for you. Or 2 years if you can only increase once every 2 months. Etc. It could go something like this:

JAN = 1 K    FEB = 1.5 K     MAR = 1 M    APR = 2 K       MAY = 2.5 K/1.5 M    JUN = 3 K  in ~1 hr+
JUL = 2 M    AUG = 3.5 K    SEP = 4 K     OCT = 2.5 M    NOV = 4.5 K               DEC = 5 K/3 M in <2 hr

Whatever you decide to do, keep enjoying it! That's the most important point.



Wed, Mar 06, 2019 at 2:51 PM, Kim wrote:
  Ahh. The light dawns! Love the encouragement  :)
   The one km is from my house to the main road and back. Any further and the neighbors expect visits...I do go for visits, and on those days walk farther - but I have to work up a different kind of "comfort" to extend the range daily. Or add a side trip to the creek, which isn't so many meters, but adds another hill. and another 10 minutes.
   Plenty to think on. Thanks for your blog.
   Finishing one project and will get to my Circular Gallifreyan items sometime this year. I'll send you photos when I accomplish it. (Gregorian year, so be patient!)

      Lucki responds to Kim:
  Well, Holy Writ does encourage and inspire each of us to "encourage and inspire each other", so I try. Don't always succeed; but I'm not in charge of the results, I'm only in charge of the legwork.
  I get what you mean about people's expectations. That side trip sounds like a good idea. And of course, as you build your stamina, there's always the tactic of making that walk twice a day. When I do my walking/dancing, I don't always do it all at once. Some days, I have to break it into, like, maybe 60- or even 30-minute segments to fit all around other things I have scheduled.
  Good luck with the project you're working on. And looking forward to seeing what you finally get to do with your patches. They were fun to plan and make. I have two on my schedule to do right now. They're designed (which is the harder part), so only the embroidering left to do.

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"I wish that my writing was as mysterious as a cat." -- Edgar Allen Poe

It's been a while since I posted about the psychic/paranormal power of cats. So it's definitely time for another go. And today's the perfect day, 'cuz of what happened this morning.

If you want/need to, though, I'll wait until you've looked at previous posts in this series: about Hadji's levitation, Seraphin's teleportation, guest author Rolf's cat Ted's teleporation, and Smoky's astral projection. To say nothing of the heart-touching powers of Ascii and Silver. Go ahead; I'll still be here when you get back.

Data point 5: Bilocation
Angel & her stuffed snuggle-skunk in the cat-condo penthouseMy #grandMya's cat Angel, who lives with me, is a wizard at knowing when I wake up. Doesn't matter where she is. In a window keeping an eye on the neighbors. In one of the cat shelters under the bookshelves. In the cat condo in the living room. (<<<<<=That's her there in the cat condo penthouse, cuddled against the tail of her stuffed snuggle-skunk.) In the litter box in the master bath. In the kitchen scouting for food I might've dropped unnoticed last night.

But the minute I wake up, she starts her special raspy "feed me" call. The one she uses only when I wake up and again at supper time. The one she's been using ever since Silver died and she had to take over the task of getting me up and at 'em.

"Mraah-aahh-hh-aackk!" she says. Repeatedly. Until I'm up and off to the kitchen. Translation: "What's taking so long? You haven't fed me in HOURS! How'za housecat supposed to survive around here?!"

So it was no surprise, as I woke up this morning, to hear her start calling from the living room.

The surprise was her silent, warm weight lying athwart my thighs.

But nope, that's not where the sound was coming from. It was definitely coming from the living room. Only, I can't see into the living room from my bedroom. So I didn't have clear visual proof that she was bilocating. But I certainly had unimpeachable aural proof that she was actually in two different places at the same time.

I didn't know cats could even do that. Bilocate. But obviously they can. Learn something new every day.

Khoda hafez,

P.S. One of my own cats - actually my first Chicago cat, Shadow Delibre - once accused me of bilocation. It was a Sunday morning. I was in bed. I woke up when the clock radio in the next room started playing. A talk program. Shadow woke up, too. Heard my voice in the next room. Jumped down and ran into the next room to see what I was doing. Came back. Put his front paws on the mattress and lifted up to look at me. Yep, I was there. Got down, went under the bed, came out the other side, and lifted up again to look at me some more. Yep, I was still there. Went back to the next room for a short while and listened to me continue giving an interview. Then came back into the bedroom, shook his head, shrugged, and got back on the bed with the silent me. "Impressive," he seemed to say, "but not worth losing more catnap time over." But trust me, this morning there was no radio on. So I know it wasn't some prerecorded Angelic interview I was hearing. It was live. It was her. The bilocat(e).

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"Ishiro! Meet Garima. Queen of Thanzanon." -- Mick Rory

It was unutterably funny. I laughed. I cried. I gaffawed. I roared. I held my sides. I got what they mean by being "in stitches". I couldn't catch my breath. My ribs ached. I shed tears of both glee and pain. It just wouldn't stop. I laughed that/so long and that/so hard. All the way through the multi-minute commercial break. Without stop.

That was on November 19 last year. And then, on December 24, I did it again. On purpose. I figured it couldn't possibly be so funny, so hard, so exhausting the second time around. But it was. Once again. And there I was, once again, laughing uproariously. Unstoppably. All the way through the commercials.

Black, corded Puli jumping over an obstacleWhen my #grandMya is feeling down, or just wants a guaranteed giggle, she goes to an Internet picture I introduced her to. And her eyes light up. She smiles. Chuckles. Chortles. Guaranteed. It's a picture of a jumping Puli. Black. Corded. With a tiny pink tonguetip. That's it stage left there. In all it's glory. Dreadlocks flying. A living, breathing, leaping, panting Koosh ball.=>>>>> 

(BTW, my own personal Koosh ball is black and green. Still gets occasionally played with. And still is in quite good condition.)

Well, from now on, all I need to do to guarantee a risible reaction is say to myself, "Mick 'Mary Sue' Rory." And I will at least smile my way through a Snartly snort.

"So who is 'Mary Sue'?" you ask. (You did ask, right?) Well, the history, denotation, and connotation of the term have become convoluted and complex over time. But the brief basic answer for our purposes here is this: "Mary Sue is the creation by a fanfic author of an idealized character - usually the impossibly perfect love interest of a canon lead character - that is a thinly disguised version of the author herself."

When I started writing Anasazi Anthem, I expressed concern that a protagonist I introduced, Kol Kaguta, might come across as just too Mary Sue. The fellow authors in my consultative group assured me that she was definitely not a Mary Sue. And nor was I. (And yes, I know I have to keep my promise to my spiritual mother, Rezvanieh, and continue working on the story. One of my goals for 2019, it is.)

[SPOILER ALERT] So I'm watching the "Tagumo Attacks!!!" episode of DC's #LegendsOfTomorrow the first time through 'cuz I have nothing better to do that evening. Plus, they're going to meet an historical icon of my youth. And in the course of it, I learn more about #MickRory (hilariously portrayed by #DominicPurcell at his rough, curmudgeonly, primal-force-of-nature best). The fact that Mick's been scecretly writing erotic fiction - and writing it well - comes into play in a big way. 'Cuz the Legends need someone artistic to bond with a book that makes the imagined real. And they are unable to completely defeat the giant octopus (though they did manage to reduce it to somewhat human size) that the book manifested from the imagination of famous director/screenwriter Ishiro Honda while he was directing his first feature film, Aoi shinju (The Blue Pearl), in 1951.

Garima, queen of Thanzanon, battles eight-armed Tagumo on Ishiro Honda's setRory to the rescue. He writes up a storm. Actually, he writes up a hero. Garima. Queen of Thanzanon. She of the huge swords. Leather-bound garb. Blue-banded eyes. And triply-endowed chest. She's fresh on his mind 'cuz he's been writing an erotic science fiction story about her and developed writer's block. But the team needs his talent, he's inspired, and he's off to the races. So is Garima. She battles the eight-armed Tagumo. Eventually dispatches it with some fancy footwork and swordplay. Heads for Mick (who, tongue-tied, introduces himself to her with a simple "I'm Mick"). Kisses him. And drags him off(screen) into the ruins of Ishiro's demolished minature set for a lo-o-ong, messy bout of passion. Come daylight, so to speak, Garima is gone. So is Mick's writer's block.

The closing line of Mick's scenario as he inscribes it in the magic book is "With the monster vanquished, Garima and her beloved Buck made passionate love in the ruins of the city." And the closing line of Mick's original story, now that he's unblocked, becomes "Garima was as strong as she was stunning, and with her by his side, Buck had at last vanquished his true enemy. Fear." [END SPOILER ALERT]

That second line came after the commercial break. But the first one came before it. And as the first commercial started on November 19, I suddenly said to myself, aloud, "Buck is Mick is a Mary Sue!" And loud, unending peals of laughter ensued. Until it hurt.

So, like an idiot, I decided to watch it again when it reran on Christmas Eve. Just to see if it was still all that funny. I knew what was coming. At least I thought I did. Forewarned is forearmed, right? Couldn't possibly be that hilarious the secomd time 'round, right? But it was. And once again, I laughed till it hurt.

You know, one of the reasons #WentworthMiller learned, in their acting and promoting together, to love Purcell like a brother is that Purcell could make Miller laugh. Sure proved it that night. As funny as Miller and Purcell's Legends work could be together - and remember, it was their chemistry and humor that made me a Legends appointment viewer back in the day - Purcell was able to hold his own alone. In spades. And I found myself wondering what sardonic comment #LeonardSnart would've made if he'd been there to see his partner's solution. And secret. But maybe Snart would've been unable to say anything 'cuz he, too, would be laughing. Uproarisouly. 'Til it hurt.

Sadly, we'll never know. But maybe that's for the best. 'Cuz can you just imagine what snarky Snartisms would have ensued if Leonard then heard MarySue Mick admit that his true enemy was fear? This way, absent Lenny, Mick gets to deal with that realization on his own terms in his own time. Good for him.

Khoda hafez,

P.S. For another three "true" stories about LoT-/#Wentnic-watching, and why it's no longer appointment viewing, and how I'm not the only one that's true for, check here, here, and here. Wow, five LoT entries in all. Didn't expect that.

P.P.S. For some extra fun and confusion, google the name/definitions of Garima. Pay attention. There'll be a test. ;-)

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