I can now add to my resume that I frosted a cake for the first lady of a state. The governor’s mansion’s chef, my buddy Holly, has been having increasing difficulty with her torn rotator and bicep. The motions required for spreading frosting required one of her more painful positions. I was honored to be called to her rescue. In the bargain, I got to hang out in the kitchen while the new governor and his wife ate their supper. They were delightfully friendly to me. It’s nice meeting public people in their private worlds.
I’m now waiting for Holly’s shoulder to be rebuilt. Because of her pain, her surgery was rescheduled for an earlier date than originally anticipated. This may make my chauffeur services unnecessary as she goes to Florida to accept her recently deceased husband’s industry award for his work in establishing safety standards for the residential window cleaning industry. Oh well, at least I’ll still head away from snow country, back to Louisiana, until the spring thaw in Coker Creek.
My major worry, at this point, is that Holly’s supposed to do daily post-surgery exercises to regain her range of motion. This is the second time that Holly is having her rotator cuff repaired, and she has told me how brutally painful the exercises are. She really may need a drill sergeant, and I’ve been informed by her that I’m an enabler. My daughter once told me that I want my children to grow, but don’t want them to go through the pain of growth. What’s a mother (or friend) to do?
Maybe I’ll call our Coker Creek friend Charlie for tips on being a “physical terrorist” as he was the impetus for our friend Jim actually exercising his new knee. It’s a dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it.