As a start, I am totally convinced that a “stable genius” would have to be Mr. Ed. There was never a stable genius as well stabled and genius-like as he was.
As for stability and grace?
If I walk with utmost care, I can look almost graceful until I hit a bump and fall down.
In Israel, I was told I would grow old with grace. They didn’t mean physically because no one ever accused me of being graceful. They meant spiritually graceful. I’m not sure that’s true. Mostly, I think I’m really quite cranky and these days, crankier than ever.
As for stability?
I tread carefully so I won’t fall down. When you fall down and you are 9 or 10, no one worries. They pop up back on your feet, dust you off and tell you to get on with it. When you are 70 plus, they go into a tizzy and start dialing 911. If I had no better reason for not falling down, that would be a good one.
Hey, I have a great idea. Let’s play a game.
You be “Stable” and I’ll be “Grace.” We’ll run the country together, okay?
FOWC with Fandango — Stability
RDP Monday: GRACE
Categories: #FOWC, Daily Prompt, Fandango's One Word Challenge
“A stable genius”….that made me laugh, Marilyn!
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I listened to a Dr. talk about balance and how ‘we’ should look straight ahead when walking instead of down because it negatively affects our balance. And, how exactly do we avoid falling down if we’re not looking where we’re stepping. Geez, I sure didn’t worry about that even ten years ago. Growing old gracefully is a misnomer. 🙂
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Garry never looks down. And you know what? He falls frequently. He trips over shoes, dogs, pillows, books … anything. You need to see where you are going. Including your feet.
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I’m all in for growing old with crabbiness as my defining feature! I wish Mr. Ed was the stable genius in the White House..
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Mr. Ed should be President. One smart horse!
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I remember scraping my knees a lot as a child. It was just part of growing up. We still have to pick ourselves up and dust ourselves off and if we can do it with grace that provides some stability, don’t you think?
Leslie
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I get so embarrassed at the fuss everyone makes. They are all sure I broke a hip or something. I appreciate the thoughtfulness, but I’m not quite that decrepit. Yet.
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🙂
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Works for me! (Although I’m not the most graceful either! Having gotten my foot caught in a fence on Saturday!)
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I fell on a flat floor for no reason. Literally NO reason. I think my shoes were a bit clingy to the floor and didn’t move when I did. That’s the last time I try dancing!
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I am allowed to laugh. I thought I would leave that one to you. I even call 112 myself now when I am on the floor, as sometimes I might be alone – so keep the mobile phone near. Do they also send those good looking muscular guys when you fall to pick you up. It is almost worth it.
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They are as likely to send some pretty muscular women, which doesn’t quite do the job the same way. A lot of our rescue people are women. Big, strong ones.
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Okay! 🙂 Also when we were 9 or 10, we still had elasticity in our bones, which meant falling down didn’t really hurt very much. Now? Well for myself alone? It’s PAINFUL dammit. And one can break a bone, because they have become brittle and so unelastic, it makes those halcyon days of youth all the more bittersweet.
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Cee, I find myself wobbling and groaning on those steps. Yes, ah — for those halcyon days — sweet bird of yoot.
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Sweet bird o’ ute. (pronouciation courtesy of “My Cousin Vinny” when the old judge could not understand “youth” as spoken in a New Yawk accent). Do I detect a subtle hint of New York in yours, sir? 😉
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We both grew up there. Not far from each other, either.
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Ute or Yoot —. A Proud native of Brooklyn, New York.
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I remember falling, brushing the dirt of the bruised knee and moving on. These days, I first have to make sure I can still stand UP. Then, if I can walk. Not the good old days of yore!
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