The holidays certainly have a way of wrangling one's life into splattered mess of glitter and bows - but what a glorious mess it can be. And it was. One of the greatest gifts of my life was given to me by my parents. They did give me life once, so no surprise for it to happen again. Their gift was the FreeWheel. Imagine a sports stroller concept. That third wheel in the front and triangular base foundation is perfect for off-roaring with those lil buggers. Let's just say I now feel like a lil bugger. The FreeWheel attaches to the front foot-bar of my regular chair. In doing so, the front casters are lifted off the ground and out of the way of ground cover. It's a bit pricey, but if someone told you they could give you freedom from confinement for the cost of a family's day at Disneyland, chances are you'd take it.
One of my favorite activities in the world is camping and being out in Nature. To wake to a dozen different birds and debating with your husband as to whether the Woodpecker can really peck that hard. Inhaling smoke from cedar logs and coughing up last night's s'mores. Using a portable toilet inside your tent and feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. I did order the PeePo. Yes, this is a thing. It is a proportionally shaped "funnel" for us gals so we can tWinkle in the woods like boys. It's pink. I got it from Amazon Prime two-day shipping. It had to be good. Until I realized I couldn't stand. Or squat. So hubby ran to the Sport Chalet before we left and nabbed up the granddaddy of all porcelaine gods. The portable princess and the pee-pot.
Maine of the most devastating things about losing mobility, was the mourning process of losing the ability to be that bear in the woods. This holiday, however, I have learned that although I may need to approach the woods differently, they are no less glorious, rich, calming and awe-inspiring because I view it from my chair it's just that now that I have my attachment, I can enter those woods, roll through the leaves, race my kids on trails and leave my hub in the dust feeling only slightly guilty that he has to walk.