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Copyright © 2007, 2008, 2009 Edith Morris


Catchword Corner

August 2007

My cat has her routine down pat. She watches me intently and as soon as I jump into my wheelchair she is leads me down the hallway. Keeping dangerously a few inches ahead of me, she rubs and smooches the doorways, kitchen chairs and table legs until we are near her bowl. With great expectations she looks up at me and rubs against the wheels urging me to put her food out. This is her territory (she thinks), her pathway to food, her place, she belongs. She is content.

On fine afternoons, when I'm bored, I climb on to my lovely red mobility scooter and go for a roam around my neighbourhood. Shall I turn right and explore the gully or go left to the golf course and park? Or will I scoot around the whole route? These choices were once closed to me until I was given my scooter 18 months ago. Now the whole neighbourhood is open for me to explore and enjoy.

Precious hours I spend sitting under the trees in the gully, listening to the gurgling creek, delighting in the glorious leaves fluttering, the breeze on my face, watching the children in the new playground, racing the ducks in my scooter and hoping no one is looking.

I wave to someone I know and to many I don?t know. I stop and have a chat about anything (and their gardens).

Yes, a hot cup of coffee would be nice and the manager swings open both cafe doors and I ride in like a Queen.

This is my territory, my park, my trees, my gully, my place, my town. I'm glad I live in Rototuna. This is my community. This is where I belong. I am content.