Roads to Joy

One of the things about ageing is that easy mobility becomes compromised. Sometimes the ability to drive goes first, while often knees, hips, hamstrings, joints become compromised and a simple thing like a gentle walk becomes challenging. A reasonable expectation that our personal mobility is increasingly at risk is one of the primary factors in our anticipated descent from the high fellside to find a place where the shops and medical centre are within an easy walk.

Walking we can still do, at a slow pace, with sticks to keep us upright when our knees or hamstrings baulk. Then my new shooting stick seat will offer a respite from the walk, and a rest will renew my capacity. But for how much longer will we be able to drive from place to place, we wonder? Today we’re off an hour down the road to Penrith for our booster jabs to protect us from Covid. Saturday we’re going half an hour in the other direction to get our annual flu jabs. We divide our time between Sparty Lea and New Galloway, zipping across the border like the Reivers of old, only in the comfort of the little Fiat 4×4.

We’ve seen, at first hand, how driving ability is affected with older age, and it’s fair to assume that we too are susceptible. Better to work out a coping strategy at our leisure now, than to deal with immobility issues on an emergency basis. Fair enough, of course, but fatalistic approaches to life feel a bit soul-destroying, rather.

So while making contingency plans for the prospect of infirmity, we can enjoy our remaining ability as best we can. Now then, where did I put that handy shooting stick? And where are my glasses? Phone? Walking shoes? Jumper and/or brolly? Wallet? By the time I’ve patted myself down and gone through the checklist, we’re both laughing in some ruefulness over the conundrum of absent-mindedness!

Better to laugh than cry, and then we’re away, enjoying the delights of a perambulation through marshland, woods, or the local shops.