I can't open a new bottle of catsup. I can't tear apart a bag of potato chips. The bag inside the box of Cereal defeats me. I can't break that little plastic string that connects tags to new articles of clothing. If I pull really hard I can manage to pull the wide end through the shirt leaving a disfiguring hole.
When I was a child we had a new jar of pickles that no one could open. Every visitor to the home got to try their special technique. No one ever did it. I wonder what happened to those pickles.
I keep scissors handy to cut my way into and out of all kinds of packages. I have a Martha Stewart thingee that grips the cap on a new gallon of milk and helps twist it off. I have a granite slab in the kitchen where I can tap or bang the edge of a bottle cap without worrying about damaging the counter top or the other popular kitchen rapping device, the table knife handle (!).
Don't ask me to loosen a tight screw or turn on the water faucet if someone hunkered down on it when they turned it off. I find pliers and wrenches very useful. I don't understand the physics of the lever, just know it works for me.
At least I always thought of this as a minor nuisance in the mechanics of life. Or better yet, a demonstration of my true femininity, a member of the weaker sex. Nothing seems to make a man feel more needed than a recalcitrant bottle of olives. But now I learn hand strength is life's crystal ball, a prognosticator of longevity. Oh dear.
In a study just reported in The Lancet following 140,000 people in 17 different countries, researchers found "grip strength may be a good predictor of the risk for cardiovascular disease." There was a clear and consistent link between grip strength and death from any cause, but especially from heart attack or stroke.
One report suggested hand grip is a stronger forecaster of early death than systolic blood pressure.
This does not bode well for my long term future. I guess I just need to get a grip. :)
When I was a child we had a new jar of pickles that no one could open. Every visitor to the home got to try their special technique. No one ever did it. I wonder what happened to those pickles.
I keep scissors handy to cut my way into and out of all kinds of packages. I have a Martha Stewart thingee that grips the cap on a new gallon of milk and helps twist it off. I have a granite slab in the kitchen where I can tap or bang the edge of a bottle cap without worrying about damaging the counter top or the other popular kitchen rapping device, the table knife handle (!).
Don't ask me to loosen a tight screw or turn on the water faucet if someone hunkered down on it when they turned it off. I find pliers and wrenches very useful. I don't understand the physics of the lever, just know it works for me.
At least I always thought of this as a minor nuisance in the mechanics of life. Or better yet, a demonstration of my true femininity, a member of the weaker sex. Nothing seems to make a man feel more needed than a recalcitrant bottle of olives. But now I learn hand strength is life's crystal ball, a prognosticator of longevity. Oh dear.
In a study just reported in The Lancet following 140,000 people in 17 different countries, researchers found "grip strength may be a good predictor of the risk for cardiovascular disease." There was a clear and consistent link between grip strength and death from any cause, but especially from heart attack or stroke.
One report suggested hand grip is a stronger forecaster of early death than systolic blood pressure.
This does not bode well for my long term future. I guess I just need to get a grip. :)
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