Today is a big day for me. As you read this, my partner either will be taking me or has already taken me to see my orthopedic specialist and have the cast removed from my leg! Woo-hoo! Wish me well as I enter the next phase of my recovery, which I presume will include some physical therapy, but also includes returning to work.

I want to give a word of thanks to my family and very close friends who have held me close and showed their care and concern. I truly appreciate it.

This blog post, however, is about my partner who I have been referring to lately with my family and friends as “Saint.” For the past eight weeks, he has dutifully cared for me in 1,001+ ways. From helping me to bathe, to preparing meals, to doing all of the grocery shopping, to clearing my path of passage so I would not trip (again), to carrying this box of reviews here and picking up that box of plans there so I can continue my civic functions as best I can, to finding things to keep me entertained and less pre-occupied with my plight, to putting up with dozens of family friends visiting me (he hates visitors), to listening to me grump and grumble, to carrying everything for me everywhere, and for generally putting up with me in a million ways.

Okay, you say, “you’re in that type of relationship. You often say that you are as close as being married. I mean, that’s what he should be doing for you anyway.” Right?

Well, there are two ways of looking at it: “I did it because I had no other choice” vs. “I did it because I wanted to.”

My partner has truly wanted to help me. It’s been hell sometimes, too, with snowpocalypse and its relentless brother-of-a-storm right after that during a time when I only had a splint on my leg and truly couldn’t walk. He literally had to lift me in and out of chairs and on and off the toilet. He has had to handle removing 40″ of snow over four storms while I was laid up. He had to get the generator-running during multiple power outages. He had to cart me to doctor’s appointments on top of everything else. But he wanted to.

I sense that he is as anxious as I am for my life to return to some semblance of normal. He wants what is best for me. He allows me to take on activities that I reasonably can do that do not run risk of causing further injury or prolonging my healing. But he has really clamped down on me doing anything that might risk any stress or strain whatsoever. NO going anywhere — not on his watch!

I think of all the time that I have been in this situation and think: there’s no way I could have managed this alone. I worry about friends who truly are alone and who have no one else. All of us should have people in our lives who will care for us if we need it. But few of us have someone who just does it not because he “has to,” but because, as St. Partner says, “it’s what I do.”

This, fellow blog readers, is why my partner and I have melded our hearts as one. We respond very similarly. We see what needs to be done and just do it. Caring for people is not a “visit-grandma this quarter” kinda thing. It is an ongoing process.

I am blessed. Truly blessed. I love my man with my every fiber of my being.

Now, onward! Off with the cast and on with my life!

I’ve never worn bell-bottom jeans as much as I have since I had my accident, broke my leg, and got a humongous cast on it. The jeans fit great, especially over the cast.

We are enjoying our pre-Spring weather tease. That is, it has been sunny and fairly warm — great motorcycle “leather weather” and had I been physically able and castless, that’s where I would be: on the saddle of my Harley all duded up in leather and boots.

Oh well, this dream shall remain a dream for the time being. My partner had off work on Monday. We spent the afternoon together enjoying each other’s company. He carefully brought me out to our deck and got a chair for me. I truly enjoyed sitting in the warm sunshine and breathing the fresh air. Watching the squirrels play, the birds flutter, and the geese being busy nesting their eggs, soon to have goslings waddling around.

What was best of all was spending that quiet time with my partner. We watched, we listened, held hands, and relaxed. Seldom do we have the opportunity to relax together this way. Not many words were said. We didn’t need to talk. Just being with each other in the warmth was wonderful.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

I mentioned earlier that I had arranged for a guy dressed in full leather to come to our house on Sunday, which was Valentine’s Day, to present a gift of a dozen red roses, a red velvet cake, and a card to my partner.

We began our day with a long, cuddly snuggle. We just held one another, talked, and listened to hopes, dreams, desires, thoughts, and ideas.

We enjoyed a simple breakfast. I truly wish that I could have made my partner’s favourite breakfast of waffles and all the accompaniments, but I just could not do it as my broken leg was throbbing and not behaving.

After breakfast, we went into our family room, which is on the first level, near the front door. I was working on my computer (getting the Boot Wiki going) and hoping… hoping… hoping that the guy would come with the gifts.

At 1:00pm, we had a light lunch. Still nothing.

Then the doorbell rang, and I said what I had planned to say, “will you answer it, please?” My partner grunted at being annoyed that the doorbell rang and visitors were here, but he answered the door. I got up as quietly as I could, grabbed the camera, and made my way toward the door to see who was there. It wasn’t the leatherdude, though. I had four visitors (senior pals) who came over to see me. We talked for a while, then they left.

By then it was about 2:30, and I was wondering if the guy were going to come over. I sent my partner upstairs on a ruse and quickly called my friend who arranged it, and only got his voice mail. I left a message.

My partner said, “I recorded a movie that I think you would like on the Tivo in the basement on high-def. Let’s pop some corn and go watch it.” I said, “what if some other friends come over?” He said, “I’ll just answer the door.” I really didn’t have any other excuse I could use, and my partner wanted to see that movie with me. He had this romantic, far-away look in his eye.

I hobbled down the stairs, as I didn’t want to disappoint my partner. Also, I wanted to see a movie with him. I enjoy spending time with him like that. We settled down on our sofa, got the movie started, dimmed the lights, and held hands. Soon we were involved in the plot of the movie.

We decided to take an intermission about half-way through. I hobbled over to the basement bathroom. My partner said, “I’ll take the popcorn bowl to the kitchen and use the bathroom up there. I’ll be right back.”

He went upstairs, and I got “settled” in the bathroom. Well… I don’t need to explain what I was doing, but I heard the doorbell ring and my partner answer it. He began to laugh. I knew that this was it! And here I am on the toilet with my pants down. There was no way I could get dressed and up the stairs without help. So I missed it. Damn!

My partner came back to the basement a few minutes later with a big smile on his face, and a tear in his eye. He had put the flowers in a vase. He put them on the coffee table, and began to cut slices of the cake that was delivered.

He reached out, held my hand, gave me a kiss, and said, simply: thank you, Valentine!

… then he told me that our nebby neighbor across the street saw the whole thing. We laughed uproariously.

I wish I could have been on that level to see his surprise, and perhaps have taken some pictures. But what was most important is that my valentine enjoyed his surprise.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them!

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I will keep this short, only to say that my beloved Valentine will be surprised today when a special treat that I ordered just for him is presented by a leather-clad stud. A dozen red roses, a red velvet cake, and a card. ’twasn’t cheap, but well deserved. (Thanks, Dave!)

Meanwhile, I’m feeling a bit more human. Yesterday, I put on a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, with a real boot on my left foot. I ditched the sweats I had been wearing since I broke my right leg. Guido and I sat on the island in my kitchen and prepared cupcakes for my special valentine, my love, my hunk, my partner, my best half.

I made these cupcakes to throw my partner off the scent that something else might be delivered today. When the doorbell rings, I’ll say, “will you please answer the door since I can’t get up?” Ordinarily, my partner avoids answering the door and interacting with people, but since I broke my leg, he’s been pretty good about doing that. Since some family and elder buds have been dropping by to visit or bring (more) casseroles, he wouldn’t think twice about the doorbell ringing again. I just want to be there to see his face when the flower-bearing leatherhunk is standing there! LOL!

To the man I love with all my heart, soul, and every ounce of my being: HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!

Life is short: show those you love that you love them!

The proverbial “they” got the weather forecast all wrong for the area where we live in Maryland, USA. On Friday, “they” were predicting that we might get 1″ (2.5cm) of snow. The big storm was supposed to stay south of us.

“They” were wrong. It began to snow at 9am, and snowed all day. “They” kept changing the forecast, upping the amount of snow expected for our area each hour. “They” finally issued a winter storm warning after noon. Heck, we already knew that.

Here I am with a broken leg, and a disabled partner. My beloved partner is doing the best he can to take care of me, do our grocery shopping, AND shovel the snow from our drive and walks. He cannot operate our snow blower. It is too big, heavy, and hard for him to handle.

There I was… inside, with a tear running down my cheek, holding myself up on crutches watching him work. Man, I feel so guilty. I wish I could help him. He is working so hard. My partner said that we had 7″ (17.5cm) of snow when he got out there in the late afternoon… and snow was still falling when he came in.

Bless him… nary a complaint nor whimper. His first question when he came in the door was, “how are YOU?” The least I could do was heat hot water for some cinnamon herbal tea to warm him up.

This too shall pass, but I’m feeling rotten.

Thank goodness that neither he nor I have to cook dinner. We still have about a dozen casseroles that my senior pals brought over during the week. That was so sweet of them. And they’ve been calling all day, as well. They knew that I would have a lot of trouble sitting still, so they have been calling me to make sure that I didn’t do anything stupid, like try to put weight on the broken leg or worse — go outside. I swear they have bugged our house, because they “overheard” my thinking. (No worries, I obeyed doctor’s orders to remain indoors, leg up, and on ice.)

Life is short: show those you love that you love them, because when they love you, they’ll do anything for you, even if it hurts.

Update: Someone sent me an email to ask, “why don’t you just hire a teenager to do the shoveling?” Man, I wish that were possible. Unfortunately, one of the few downfalls of living where we live is that the teenage kids who live in our area have no work ethic. They don’t lift a finger to do any work around their own houses, much less work-for-hire to do manual labor like shovel snow or mow lawns for other people. That’s quite different from how it was when I grew up, but is a sad fact about the poor work ethic that parents have accepted in their children today (in this area).