February 6, 2014

Once more into the fray, my friends...

May seems terribly far away, as I sit here gazing out at piles of snow and the deceptive sun that hides a freezing wind. But it's slipping up on us...
I'm doing the MS walk in Halifax again this year - I usually volunteer to help out with registration and then haul my sad legs around the route as well. Hoping I can still do that this year.

In honour of the walk, and of my father, who knew how to make every day something worth living, I herein record the joke he used to tell that always comes up in my head when I think of my draggy legs...

Harry kissed his wife and went out for his usual foursome of golf one sunny Saturday morning. When he returned, many hours later, he looked awful - sweat streaming off of him, brambles in his hair, muscles spasming as he walked.
He came in and crashed in the first chair he came to, begging his wife for a drink of anything, anything.
"My gosh, Harry! What happened to you? You look exhausted!"
"Oh it was terrible," Harry said, mopping his brow.
"It must've been. What happened?"
Harry took a long sip of water from the glass. "Well, everything started out fine, me and the guys, gorgeous day, though a bit hot, if I was going to complain...and we'd just started off. Had to wait for the first tee - busy as hell out there today."
He gulped more water.
"Then, we got to the second hole, and doesn't Ralph just up and have a heart attack right in the middle of the fairway! Dropped dead right in front of us."
"Oh no! How horrible," his wife said.
"I'll say. The rest of the eighteen holes, it was hit the ball, drag Ralph, hit the ball, drag Ralph..."

I'm looking for sponsors for my walk - if you'd like to sponsor me and Ralph, please go to my personal page for the MS Walk.  I'd really appreciate it!