I just laid there. Or lay. You know what sounds good? Lay’s Potato Chips.

Yesterday, I finally relented and called my doctor, because you know how I resist doing that. I’m never one to call the doctor. Or cause a fuss. Anyway, he insisted I get an x-ray of my toe, because apparently if you let it go, occasionally something hellish could happen and all of a sudden Scarlett O’Hara is watching your anesthesia-free amputation.

Fortunately, the x-ray place is literally across the street from work, so all I had to do is hobble over there, and to make a long story agonizingly longer, I have a broken toe, officially.

GettyImages-2642432I know.

So, the good news is, I have to buy “hard-soled shoes,” whatever those are, and when I Google that, I find sort of nerdy Maryjane, I-love-folk-festivals shoes that I have always secretly thought were sort of cute.

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Normally, these shoes are like $115, and I just got the last pair, in red, on Zuilly, for $61, including shipping, which always pisses me off. Shipping.

Anyway, now I have nerd shoes. I hope they don’t reject my feet, seeing as I’m so cool.

I wonder if I’ll start listening to NPR and letting my hair go gray and long. Serve soup in handmade bowls with crusty bread on the side.

My doctor, who is not at all sick of me.

My doctor, who’s got a fever and the only cure is No June.

My doctor said I will be laid up with this major break for six weeks. But if I tape my major break and wear my nerd shoes, I can still walk Edsel. “You’ve got that dog, right?” he said, thinking of my plan for a cure. What’s sad is he knows my ins and outs so well. He also said, “You’re not gonna blog about walking into a dog bone and breaking your toe, are you?”

“Dude. I already wrote about that this morning,” I told him.

“Do you think you’ll lose readers?” he asked. See. I think he thinks the secret to blogging success is to seem, you know, dignified. But if I were dignified, what would be the point of reading me? Oh, I think I’ll wander on over to June to see what dignity she has today. Ima go over and see June handle life with grace.

I mean, zzzzzzzz.

So that happened; I broke a major bone in my body and may never walk again. But now that we know that, and we know that the solution is I have to wear shoes that look like I’m teaching granola making at The Learning Annex, let’s move on to the topics I did not cover yesterday.

Ned and Nancy. Almost Sid, but if Sid were an engineer.

As you know, from your Big Book of June Events, I have been fostering kittens for the local animal shelter, and recently I had a mom cat and her four kittens–all of whom are already adopted; I checked. Anyway, Ned lost his cat in December after 18 years of having her, and he decided to adopt Nancy, the mom to my foster kittens.

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sheee miss uzz, eben tho we poop on ebrything

Oh my god, I DO miss them.

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IMG_4214.jpgI’ve no idea why I’m giving you so much background, like you don’t all know this info. Like someone just got here. Anyway, the mom, Nancy, pooped outside her litter box once or twice here, but once she got to Ned’s, she’s doing it all over yonder.

And why doesn’t everyone ask me if he’s done all the things anyone would do. Yes, he tried other litter boxes. Yes, he tried other litter. Yes, he tried the cat-attracting litter (he told me EVERYONE is asking him that one). Yes, he took her to the vet.

They didn’t find anything physically wrong, but they think she’s a feral cat. They told him to confine her to one room (he did) and put her on Prozac (he did). That’s where it is now, and it’s not going well.

 

IMG_4221.jpgHe will probably not be able to keep her, which is just so sad. I asked Chris and Lilly if they needed a barn cat, but they don’t. Poor sweet Nancy.

Ned called me last night to tell me the latest, about the Prozac, and I told him the sad truth about my major injury. “Do you need anything?” he asked. Ironically, I needed cat food, so he bought some at the store, as opposed to conjuring it up with his mind control, and brought it over.

He’d been at the gym and tending to Nancy and so on, and hadn’t eaten, so I offered him one of my bags of nuts. So to speak.

I buy those 100-calorie packs of nuts to snack on, and I can just HEAR my mother saying, “That’s too expensive,” but I don’t know if she’s met me or not, but you give me a big container of nuts and all of a sudden we’re out of nuts and I’m Templeton at the end of the fair.

templeton_satisfied_by_guttloverz.jpgThe point is, I like the bags of almonds and walnuts–plain, no salt–but Ned crunched a few and asked, “What ARE these?”

“They’re almonds and walnuts.” I thought he’d be happy with them. Ned buys Girl Scout cookies and eats one a day.

One.

A day.

Till they’re gone.

So I thought saltless nuts would delight him. But Ned has never had protein in his house, a fact that has always annoyed me. He works out and then he’s starving and you offer him a stick of cheese and he acts like you’ve offered to brand him with I Heart Ted Nugent or something.

Anyway, deese nuts. “What are they flavored with, the powder of boredom and despair?” he asked, crunching frownily.

The point is, he will try Prozac on Nancy for awhile, but he’s cleaning random poop a hundred times a day and is about to give up.

So that’s THAT happy story.

My Chakras. As Opposed to My Shakiras. Either Way, Hips Told the Truth.

IMG_5439.jpgOn Saturday, I went to a cute local place to have my chakras read.

It’s kind of hard to explain what all we did. We talked a lot about the enneagram first, which is a personality thing I made you all take a few years back. I am a 4 on the enneagram, which if you are too I apologize, but 4s are really the assholes of the enneagram.

Anyway, we talked about ways to make my 4 less horrifically 4, and that was informative, and then I laid on the table (I lay on the table? I never know. Hey, what’s my job, again?) and she swung a pendulum over my chakras

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and determined my crown chakra was blocked and my solar plexus chakra was also too blocked. She did whatever she does to clear them. I just laid there. Lay there? Anyway, story of my life. That could be the title of my autobiography. I Just Laid There, or Lay There, by June Gardens.

When I got home, I Googled what the signs were of having those areas blocked, and the crown chakra, when it’s blocked, causes migraine. The solar plexus chakra, when it’s blocked, makes you depressed and codependent.

TAAAA-DAAAAA!

So I got those cleared up and immediately broke a toe and gave nuts to Ned. So.

While I was writing all this pertinent info to you, I had the gate up back here, because it’s muddy out, and I wanted Edsel to be back here till his paws dried. Meanwhile, Steely Dan

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WUT

LEAPED over the gate, knocking it over as he transcended it, which made it crash, and then he walked to the back door, opened it, and stomped outside, the screen door crashing behind him lustily.

IMG_5521.jpgAnd that’s why Edsel looks like this.

Brokebone mountainly,
Joob

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Author: June

At one point, I was sort of hot, in a "she's 27 and probably a 7" kind of a way. Now I'm old and have to develop a charming personality. Guess how that's going.

44 thoughts on “I just laid there. Or lay. You know what sounds good? Lay’s Potato Chips.”

  1. Those shoes reminded me of a Grace & Frankie quote, which I will now butcher. Grace was encouraged to get flat, comfortable shoes (knee surgery maybe?) and then was asked by her friend (played by Marsha Mason, not Frankie) how she felt in said shoes. Grace replied that her feet felt immense shame. BAHAHAHA!! But Grace’s shoes were not as cute as yours (including shipping. ship this).

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  2. Poor Edsel – does nothing, yet looks guilty. I love him!

    Still have the prayer chain going for the fast healing of your toe!

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  3. You perfectly described ME and a big jar/can/container of nuts. I am saving that Templeton photo for future reference when I am tempted to buy them.

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  4. I had a cat like that, I let it outside and trow that litter box with it. The cat was like Steely Dan. Came and went as it pleased.
    Broken toes suck, how in the fuck does something so little at the bottom of your body hurt when you move your arm, I will never know, but it does. My friend recently broke hers and her boots were comfortable to wear, at first it was cod so it was cool but then it was hot Af and she still had to wear those boots. I’m not ashamed to say that I laughed at her ensemble.
    Hope you feel better and Nancy gets right with the box.

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  5. I (cough cough) have those shoes. A wicked case of plantar fasciitis took all my dignity. They are extremely comfortable, but even my middle son (who notices nothing) said “what’s with the shoes?”

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    1. Plantar fascitis came and took all my sexy away. If I had any left. I am now in the Women Who Wear Comfy Shoes category. That’s why I ain’t ever giving up my highlights….it’s all I have left. Except my bag of granola.

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  6. Now that your blocked chakras have been cleared, hope the migraines and depression have vamoosed. Poor Nancy needs her root chakra cleared so she can trust the litter box.

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  7. I need those shoes, too, but have thus far resisted the (not) seductive lure. I fear I will get them and like them too much and never go back to cute shoes. and what are we, animals?

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  8. My chaka khan story. Random encounter with one of my mother’s friends. Oh hey she reads Chakras. Nothing surprising. The top two were wide open. The throat was slammed shut. My mom says, “huh. I wonder why.” In complete seriousness.

    I feel sorry for Ned and Nancy. If she was feral it would be the best to return her to her colony.

    The shoes are kinda cute.

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  9. Poor Ned and Nancy. So sad.

    My dog has become super skittish lately. Or skiddish as lots of Facebook people like to say. Anyway, the slightest noise has her jumping up and running to hide behind the recliner. I don’t know what’s up with that.

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  10. Sorry about your toe but I love your new shoes. Super cute. That’s too bad about Nancy. This must be really hard for him. I hope he finds a really great kitty companion if this doesn’t work out.

    We had a feral mama cat and her babies born in our backyard. We caught them all so we could get them fixed. The mama cat was just too wild and had to be released the day after her surgery. She still lived in our backyard. We tried like hell to socialize the babies so they could be adopted but we caught them too late and they were already too wild so they had to be released, except for the runt. She was so tiny that we had to keep her forever until she weighed enough to have surgery. At first she was peeing and pooping all over the room where we kept her but as soon as we let her be with our regular cats she picked up on how things were done and started using the box. Then one day she stopped being terrified of us and started being affectionate and that was it. I wasn’t giving her up and there you have the story of our beloved Charlotte, the most gorgeous cat who ever lived.

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  11. I’m so bummed about Nancy.

    I wear comfy shoes 99% of the time and make my own granola but I don’t TEACH making it, so…I’m still a giant, crunchy nerd. I’m okay with that.

    Hope your broken toe heals quickly. I know how much you don’t like to complain about your pain and suffering.

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  12. Comfy shoes? 90% of the time here. I just pretend people can only see me from the knees up. Plantar fasciitis and fallen arches both. I’m doomed. I still wear heels to church. Because when I am sitting the whole time I might as well live it up. Poor old Letter C in the chair! Haha.

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  13. If it makes you feel any better, breaking my toe hurt worse than breaking my ankle. You’re still expected to walk with a broken toe. Totes sucks.
    Did Ned try a mix of dirt & grass in the litter box? We used to have a client at our clinic who would trap feral cats & bring them in to be fixed. We would keep the females for 3 days & a lot of them didn’t care for litter. They preferred a dirt toilet.

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  14. I don’t know if it’s the toe pain or the cleared crown chakra, but that was one of my favorite posts ever! Templeton after the fair!!!! YES – that’s me every time I patronize a Girl Scout Cookie booth. (Bless Ned, how does one just eate ONE cookie a day?)

    The powder of boredom and despair. You two could be a sitcom.

    Serve soup in handmade bowls. Ded, as my young adult daughters textedly say.

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      1. She did not meet my other cats while she was there. I didn’t want to stress her. So it would be weeks of her growling and hating my cats before they even had that kind of rapport.

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  15. Our one dog who is 13ish (he was a shelter dog and his age guesstimated) has started pooping in the basement again. When he was younger he stayed with my aunt for a week when I was out of town and her dog pooped in the basement and he picked up that habit. I think he is just a brat but my husband thinks he just can’t make it all night but that dog just loves pooping on cement. We have a gate up and he knocked it down to go there, he is dainty (even though he is a husky collie mix who is overweight) but it was raining out when I let him out and he refuses to go out int he grass when it is wet. I am sure he just refused to go outside, came inside and went to the basement when I went to bed. Odd is what he is.

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  16. I kinda like those shoes. I used to wear heels in my younger days but no more, only if I have to. Poor Eds he takes everyone’s guilt as his own. Beautiful shot of Steely Dan and Lily. They could be model kitties!

    I have a troll bead bracelet and they sell a Chakra bead with all the colors. Thanks for explaining what this all meant, I never knew!

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  17. Comfy shoes are the bomb! We even have a local store that is all about the comfy shoes. Expensive comfy shoes from Europe, and such. I love them, even if $$$$. My favorite sandal is made by Think! And I have a shoe for pants that’s by Cobb Hill, owned/made by New Balance, so I feel like I have my running shoes on underneath me, just not looking like white marshmallows.

    I really hope that Ned can get to keep Nancy, as she is so pretty. Maybe that dirty litter box idea can work, or Steely Dan teaches her how to move around the ‘hood.

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  18. Comfy shoes are the best. I wear Tevas almost all the time. But I also have 6 pairs of Josef Seibel, the European comfort shoe, that are seriously comfy. And since I am a proud card-carrying hippie granola crunchy doula massaging liberal, I have the required Earth shoes, too.

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  19. My shoes are my running/walking shoes, most of the time. I wish I could wear these with dress clothes. I’m going to check out the Cobb Hill, because I keep asking why someone can’t make a shoe that looks dressy, but feels like a running shoe.

    I really hope Ned and Nancy can get her problems worked out, poor Nancy.

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    1. Have you thought of bringing Nancy to your house so your girls could teach her to use the litter box?

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  20. I don’t know if this will work for Nancy, but it worked for my cat who was also pooping all over the place. My vet said to board her for a week. They would keep her in a small cage, with her litter at one end and her food at the other. Since cats, as a rule, will not poop in their food; they begin to use their box because there is no where else to go. You can do this at home with a small dog crate, but it made me too sad to watch her confined to a crate. So she went to the cat hotel and came home litter box trained. And we all lived happily ever after. It’s worth a try.

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  21. Do you know about 6pm.com? It’s the BEST for shoes. I think it’s Zappos and Amazon overstock. They used to just sell shoes but now they sell clothing as well as purses and accessories.

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  22. In my experience, ferals like to poop under cover if at all possible. When we lived in Florida, our ferals pooped under the shed. When we moved, they immediately claimed the driest spot under the deck as the spot for poop-shenanigans. If he hasn’t tried it yet, Ned might try putting the litter tray in a big box with an entrance hole so she has a ceiling to make her feel safe. She may have taught the kittens by example that pooping under the bed was the shit. (Pun intended.)

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  23. Portion-controlled snack packets are the only reason I don’t weigh 500 pounds. And I guess my life is just a stereotype – I listen to NPR and make granola and I think those shoes are cute. Not going too gray yet though, thank goodness…

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