Since the car accident, I have to ride the bus.  No more driving.  For shorter distances, say, one or two miles, I ride my bike, but to really get places, or if I don’t feel well enough for the bike, I either ride the bus or take the Beast.

The Beast is my motorized wheelchair.

I suppose I could gripe and scowl about my situation.  Some days, I have to admit, I get fed up with it, and yell.  Then it’s over, and life begins again.

You know what’s the most surprising since the car accident?  People don’t expect cripples to have a life. 

 And yes, I say I am crippled.  Because I am.  There’s no getting around the fact.  Some days, I can barely walk.  I am crippled.  When some folks hear me say that, they think I’m putting myself down.  Nonsense.  The word is a description of the state of a relatively small percentage of my body. 

 What do I care if my legs don’t work like they used to?  I still write plays, make purses, and build.  A couple years ago, my daughter and I erected a grape arbor. 

 I garden—love those hummingbirds!—Play music and sing.  And since the accident, I’ve discovered I am able to compose music, author books, and paint with acrylics.

When I take the beast to the store, I sometimes let my grandson ride on my lap.  We go on the backstreets because we like go around and around in circles.

I often have people come up to me and ask whether I was the lady in the park the other day, playing the congas.  Yep, that was me. 

I also teach in an early-release kids Bible class, and help with drama at church.

Last year, I was in a heavy metal band, but didn’t care for the ego thing.  The music was pretty fun, though.

What’s my latest decor change?  Theobold.  He’s the skull who now sits grinning on the control handle of the Beast.

I admit, I wish I could drive again.  But if I had been driving all this time, I would have missed some great times outside on my bike and on the Beast. 

 Yes, it’s true that I yell at God now and then, telling Him that I’m sick of climbing mountains.  When do I get to sit on a level spot, for cryin’ out loud?!  Then I realize that God knew a secret…

Level spots are really kind of boring.