I guess it was around May or June that my foot started to hurt, and like any normal person I did the most responsible thing and ignored it. I chalked it up to turning the big 4-0, the move, and well, because I've always had feet that hurt. But this pain has been different, and most importantly won't ever really go away.
So finally I broke down and went to a doctor. The diagnosis? Posterior tibial tendon dysfunction, a bone spur, and plantar fasciitis. Like I said, TURNING 40.
And I walked out of that office in a boot.
IN A BOOT.
It's been a dream.
Actually the boot makes it hurt more, and I've been rebellious and took it off.
But enough about the boot.
This all happened right before the weekend we had set to stain the PERIAGO (as my sister calls it) so that meant I really couldn't help stain the pergola. Some might call that coincidence, but I call it divine intervention.
See Paul up there? Yeah, that's where he spent hours.
And this was a family event.
All hands on deck.
We started out strong.
But some of us remained strong longer than others.
These two worked so hard.
And then some of brought the team down.
But I was good at filling waters, and telling them how wonderful they were.
It literally took an entire weekend.
And and it ended with a vow to never stain a periago ever again.
From my seated position on the chair I could tell them it was well worth it.
And now we enjoy it.