Wednesday, November 25, 2009

In everything, give thanks

That is the saying posted over my back door. Most of the time, I do heed it. After all, I have so much to be thankful for! Though sometimes I take the big things for granted and just simply miss the little things. So it is good to have a day like Thanksgiving, to slow down and take time to remember all of the amazing things - big and small - that I am thankful for.


I'm grateful for my car. It gets crappy gas mileage, but it takes us where we want to go and we would be so limited without it! I'm grateful it's heater and air conditioners work, that all the doors close securely and that the speedometer is dead on.

I'm thankful for my children because they make me a better person. They remind me to laugh and to not forget the beauty in mud or the hilarity of life. They are my raison da etre and bring me immeasurable joy.

I'm grateful for having enough food, for a warm home, for clothing, and computers and books. All of these things I regularly take for granted, but use everyday. There are too many people who don't even have a simple warm bed to call their own. And while I tend to hate cooking, I am ever so grateful to be able to afford the food that keeps us healthy, well, and full.

I'm thankful for my friends, the close ones and the acquaintances. It is through relationships that I discover myself and am able to become a better person. These are special gifts only friends can give.

I'm grateful for my animal friends, too. They love me unconditionally - and, believe me, sometimes that ain't no small feat.

I'm very thankful for knees that work. While I am not able to play the sports that I love, I am able to walk. Walking is a huge gift! I never realized just how important and special it is until I was unable to take the dog for a walk or go to the zoo with my kids. I will never overlook the value of walking again!

I'm so grateful for pretzels! My low fat, high crunch, salty snack that keeps my hips in check. Yum!

I'm thankful that I live at a time when people are nurturing their social responsibility and coupling it with integrity and action to mold our world into all it can be - for all of us. I'm thankful I live in this great country where women have rights and a vote, where we are free to worship in whatever manner we choose and where hard work and diligence can lead almost anywhere.

I'm grateful for the checker in Ralphs. I've read her name four thousand times, but can't remember it. Yet she remembers me and even though weeks often go by between my grocery visits, when I meet her she is full of stories and questions and general good cheer. I used to be embarrassed by all the acquaintances I collect (my children are thoroughly embarrassed....."Mom, is there ANYONE you don't know or talk to??") but now I see how those seemingly silly little conversations connect us all, drawing us closer, and help me to see just how ordinary and extraordinary life is.

I am thankful for my teeth. They have caused me great pain and way too much money, but I can not imagine my life without them.

I am grateful for FaceBook, and Blogspot, and email. My life would seem tiny and isolated without being able to connect to the wonderful, rich array of people in my life via the Internet. I know we lived without it once, but no way I could do without it now!

Perhaps most of all, I'm thankful for time. Time with my family, old and young, close and distant. Time on my own, to preserve my sanity. Time to make amends when I've screwed up and time to start anew. Time to discover more about myself and time to learn more about others. Time to read, to play, to exercise and to sleep. Time enough to live and enjoy this wondrous, sad, breathtaking, horrifying, incredible, joyous adventure called life!

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Zombies for Breakfast

I don't know about you, but I regularly have the pleasure of breakfasting with two Zombies. Yes, teenagers who have stayed up too late the night before and must choke down some sustenance prior to heading to school. The good thing - and the bad thing - about Zombies is they don't talk much. They tend to stare off into space as their eggs get cold on their plates.
Occasionally I see a glimmer of the children they were prior to their son will look up and ask, "Mom? Can we stop and buy DnD dice on the way home today?" or "Where are the spoons?" This last one isn't very comforting, considering the spoons have been kept in the same spot for forever......apparently the process of becoming a Zombie causes some memory loss.....

Another nice thing about eating with Zombies is they eat very to keep. They rarely complain about the food placed before them and robotically return their dishes to the sink.

I do wonder, though, about what that first block at school is like - it is then, I believe, that all of the Zombies are returned to their human selves for the rest of the day. Occasionally, for a hard case, it can take until 3rd block, but I'm told that the awakening can be cacophonous and sensational. Makes me a bit grateful that I don't teach high school!

Monday, November 23, 2009

Triple Ten

I've been wondering how I can transform my love of exercise into something I enjoy now that my long distance jogging days are over. Given that this is the one year anniversary of my first knee surgery and that this past year has been all about my knees, it is appropriate to begin by sharing something about building strong muscles to support knees.
First off, I had no idea how much my knees accepted in the form of punishment prior to their injuries. Luckily, through martial arts, I'd developed strong, supportive leg muscles that helped to stabilize those overworked joints, but as with all things physical when I stopped using them, I started losing them. My initial six week hiatus from doing anything remotely aerobic or strength building following my first surgery rendered me soft, inflexible and generally out of shape. Then came the next surgery and, well, you can see where this left me.
So, now, a year later, I'm busy trying to rebuild those leg muscles, to find a level of cardio that supports my heart yet doesn't wreck my knees, and to work at regaining the flexibility I had just a year ago. Maybe if I share the slow process I'll inspire someone - MYSELF - to keep moving forward even without the joy of sparring!

Triple Ten - what is it? My little alliteration naming my first foray back to health and fitness. It is a simple formula that anyone can follow and, believe it or not, you will get results, especially if you're starting out untrained. I do more than ten of each now, but this is where I started.

First Ten:
Ten minutes of cardio. Cardio is different for everyone. At one time I could jump rope for ten minutes and not really break a sweat......have you tried to jump rope lately? That is some of the best cardio out there! It is no wonder that boxers are always seen jumping rope. If you are out of shape I do NOT recommend jump rope - but keep it in mind for a quick cardio in the future! Ten minutes of brisk walking count for most of us old fogies. But what is brisk? We are not talking a gentle stroll here. Brisk by my standards is walking almost as fast as you feel pull to start jogging. But I hate to jog, you say, so I will never feel that pull! Then you have two options. Carry a metronome (an excellent tool for exercise, believe it or not!) or listen to music that has an upbeat tempo that you can use to pace yourself. Let's be honest: ten minutes of fast walking is very little. If you are at all fit, this will be nothing. At that point we change up the cardio by adding more, faster, or different. But this is the baseline, where I began.....we'll step it up later!

Second Ten:
This Ten relates to muscle building exercises. For me, they focused almost exclusively on lower body, with abs thrown in for good measure. Remember good ole' squats? Did you learn to do them correctly? Very important to do them accurately or you'll hurt your knees far more than you'll help them. Practice by standing in front of a chair with your feet shoulder width apart. Now sit back into the chair......feel how your bum stick out behind you? Your knees never go over your toes. THIS, my friend, is a proper squat. Often, to keep your balance you'll need to put your arms out in front of you as you stick your behind out and sit back......this is perfectly fine, though you may want to close the blinds!! LOL Ten squats to start with sounds like nothing, but done properly - slowly, accurately, with the emphasis on the sit part not the up part - you will feel these the next day.
Ah, but there is more! Ten squats by themselves are not enough. Next is ten step ups with each leg. For a step up you can use a stair, a step stool, a chair or a sturdy phone book. Obviously the more trained you are, the higher the step you would choose and the more reps you'd tackle. To begin with, I used a short step stool, doing only ten on each leg. A metronome would again be helpful here, as a fairly brisk pace will yield better results.
Next, come bum raises. Yup! Lie on your back, bring your heels to the tips of your fingers, put your knees together, now squeeze and raise your bum so that it creates a ramp from your knees to your shoulders. The emphasis is on the UP not the down. Once you can do ten like this, try ten on each leg - raising the opposite leg so that it is extended straight out next to your bent knee. Those are harder! If you can do ten together and ten on each leg, you will soon have buns of steel!
Now Ten for the abs! A strong core means a better supported lower body. Ten regular, bent knee sit ups WITH simultaneous pelvic tilts. A good sit up has bent knees (your outstretched fingertips touch your heels), hands behind your neck with elbows out along your ears (not bent forward by your chin), shoulders NEVER touch the floor. This last part ensures that your abs are engaged the entire time, not resting between sit ups. The pelvic tilt means that you tilt the bottom part of your pelvis up as you squeeze your abs into your sit up. Ten of these are not easy! But once you become used to them, add ten more with hands going through your knees. When I stopped studying kickboxing, I was doing four hundred situps at a time - and I want to get back to that!

All of these exercises can be done sloppily, quickly and without much benefit. Doing them carefully, slowly and correctly, however, will yield benefits!
So, to recap, this Second Ten includes:
10 squats
10 step ups (each leg)
10 bum lifts (add 10 each leg once you are able)
10 sit ups/pelvic tilts (add 10 more of a different type once you are able)

Third Ten:
Stretching! So important! I'm a firm believer that a limber person is a happy, able person. 10 stretches, each held for 25 sec, with a five sec rest, then repeated. I will spend much more time talking about my love of stretching some other day! But the list of ten are as follows:
Seated hamstring stretch (each leg)
Standing quad stretch (each leg)
Standing calf stretch (each leg)
Standing V stretch (center)
Overhead stretch (each direction and out over center)

More on all of this wonderful stuff later! I become too verbose while writing about something I love and I must now go teach Subtraction with Renaming.....oh so much fun! No time to even edit or reread, so sorry if I ramble or make no sense......change tense or point of view. Too much coffee!

Exercise can be a joy of life!

Sunday, November 22, 2009


Time to move along - no more bitching, at least for a few days. Time for work! Time for fun! Time to eat! Yum!!

Or perhaps just time to type. Not only is blogging cathartic but it puts off those dreary household chores that never why not? LOL

A friend once told me that the age of 44 was the nadir of your life. I'm not quite there yet, but I'm thinking that my advance toward that palindrome is explaining my scrabbling and struggling. The good thing about approaching that low point is quite soon, I'm sure, the direction of this downswing will turn, climbing upward and onward. See? Life is a parabola! At least that's my theory ;)

If my life can be expressed as a quadratic equation - yes, Téa, all life leads back to quadratics! - then perhaps I am:



a=44, the nadir of life,

b=-2, the balance of the amount of sleep I have each night and,

c=3, the number of my children.

Hence, my life can be represented thus:

Hmmmmm......maybe I should go make another pot of coffee??

Friday, November 20, 2009

Bitch Blog

Yes. You did read that title correctly. Bitch Blog.

Could be referring to the writer - I'm not going to deny that moniker lately. Could be I left off the dated "in!" from the first word, meaning I think a great deal about myself and my words. OR could be that I feel like a good bitch - the verb.

This time of year is reserved for reflecting on the many blessings of our lives. Believe me, I have many, many things to be grateful for. But the more I try to focus on the positive aspects of my present circumstances, the more I feel like bitching. Not particularly pious, I know. But honest, and at least that is something.

Let me begin with my discourse on the state of the economy. In a word, it stinks. Obviously this is not big news, but it seems that just when I hear on the 6am news that we are finally turning it around, two more local stores close and someone else I know loses a job. Salaries are down, expenses are up....for goodness sake, just feeding a family is becoming amazingly expensive! My dollar buys less yet is harder to come by........I am beginning to understand my grandmother's obsession with saving every plastic wrapper, cardboard container, outgrown clothes or dried out bread crusts - just in case we can use it for something and pinch another penny.

That's understandable, right? Everyone is bitching about the economy, especially now with the holidays approaching. But hopefully one day soon money will again flow abundantly through USA veins, making this particular bitch fade into memory. Unfortunately, no amount of monetary infusion will stave off this ugly aging process (see Michael Jackson). Time, that stealthy thief that just can't stop stealing my vitality and health. And it isn't just me! Good Gods! We're all getting old, more decrepit, sluggish, and dim-witted while our once best assets slide to the floor. Yeah, least I have my health. But not all of us do! I'm sick of seeing my loved ones suffering and hurt, unable to live the lives they long for.....unable to just enjoy some of the most basic and simple pleasures. It breaks my heart and makes me bitterly grieved.

Getting older for me has meant more and more dependence on pharmaceuticals......I never envisioned myself as the lady with the lined up medicine bottles. Each and every day, first thing in the morning I have to take a fistful of meds and supplements just to hold the old girl together. How I HATE being dependant on medication every day - for those of you who don't know, I have no thyroid, so must take replacements everyday. Sounds like no big deal.....and I didn't think it WOULD be a big deal back when I said 'Sure! Rip it out!' But now the FDA has halted the production of the natural supplement I use - the one I MUST have to feel even close to right - and I am reduced to buying drugs at exorbitant prices from Canada. Small bitch, really, considering those I know dying of cancer or struggling with life altering disease and trauma. But a daily bitch, one that rankles me every morning and niggles me every afternoon when I start to yawn and wonder if the meds I am taking are truly the strength they claim to be......

Not only am I getting older, but so are my offspring. I am now the proud parent of two teens - my son won't be 13 until January, but believe me, he qualifies. I would rather swallow tacks and face Chinese water torture than to relive my teenage years......I don't envy the trials and lessons that these kids have yet to face. But who knew that parenting teens could be equally harrowing? Conversations about sex and drugs, about gender and hate, about the ugliness in the world that I can no longer shelter them from......yuck. None of it is as easy as it seemed like it would be. Oh, and driving lessons! Good grief! You can not fully appreciate the difficulty of parenting a teen until you sit in the passenger seat while your child narrowly avoids smashing your van into a stop sign. True and total powerlessness - not pretty. Come to think of it, this is probably directly related to the escalation in the aging process that I'm so lucky to be least there is a bit of order to the bitchiness.

I'm lonely. I'm tired. I feel like the brain cells are leaking out of my ear. I eat things like bananas and oatmeal now, which once were reserved in my mind only for babies or old folks without teeth. My vocabulary has been reduced to slang from my childhood and my most technical reading material is a crochet book. Four loads of laundry and dinner in the crock pot means it is a good day. My half marathons have been reduced to half blocks - with pain. I no longer have the pleasure of kicking and punching people, so instead grind my teeth. I can tell you nearly every way to Laguna Beach and to OCHSA from anywhere in Orange County and I probably will try to bum quarters off of you since I keep running out feeding my meters.

The floors are dirty, the bathrooms need to be cleaned, someone should wash the dog,, strip the beds, load the dishes and do the laundry. Can't we just eat cereal this week? For all of our meals? No, I didn't buy milk. Try water.

Sigh. Bitch, bitch, bitch. Me? Probably.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Where are Téa and Dominic?

This is the first thing my seven year old, home schooled, second grader has said to me each morning for almost a week. She seems surprised each day that her siblings aren't here. I admit, it is very different. Quieter, for sure. A little lonely. Yet, somehow, we seem far more busy than ever before.

My oldest two children have entered the public school domain for the first time in their lives. They now attend a public charter school of the arts. Henceforth, they are subject to a bell schedules, school planners, timed tests, and tardy slips. It has been quite a transition for them, having home schooled exclusively for the first 10 and 6 years of their school lives. Téa, my tenth grader, seems to have fallen right into place, having no issue with homework, friends, her schedule or teachers. In fact, I think she rather enjoys the spectacle that high school can be. She painted her nails (black, of course) last night, and covered her belt with orange duck tape to honor her first day of Conservatory classes at OCHSA. OCHSA stands for Orange County High School of the Arts, a school that not only provides a high school education, but allows students to pursue excellence in their field of art. For Téa, that field is creative writing.

For my son, the shift to public school has been a little more bumpy. He has found many kindred spirits to befriend, but the idea of a timed schedule has been a little daunting. He expects so much of himself that trying to please eight teachers instead of just one (me) is a pressure that is new and uncomfortable. But at the tender age of twelve, he has shown much maturity in navigating the bureaucracy that is a high school, changing his class schedule and finding his way through the physical labyrinth of OCHSA. His conservatory is called Integrated Arts, a group that explores many avenues of art, including writing, film making, dance, voice, and acting - his passion.

So, while the mornings are a bit quieter and our schedule now more full with our carpool duties, my youngest - my home schooler - has my undivided attention. The fact that her first question is always about her siblings, though, may not bode well for me!

Thursday, February 12, 2009


My life is fairly mundane; following the same basic schedule from week to week. I am hugely lucky to be able to spend so much time with my children and to watch them learning and growing. I just can't imagine what it must be like without home would I have the close connection I enjoy with my kids if I hadn't had the privilege to play, teach, guide and learn from them all of these years?

Anyway, my life is pretty predictable and we aren't the most spontaneous lot, so one would think I would be riding an even tide of emotions. Ha ha ha ha ha. Not even. Without touching on the hormonal roller coaster of midlife, or mentioning the myriad of stressful happenings in our family at large, I can freely admit here that I suffer waves of terror almost daily. Terror that the time I have with said children is being misused or at least not maximized. Terror that I'll miss something very, very important that will necessitate they pay for years of therapy on my account. Terror that I am unable to get to the root of every teen emotion, to help them through that oh so difficult time of life. Terror, too, that this journey of parenthood is flying by WAY too fast. I fear it will be over before I get my role down. It seems to be taking me years to perfect it, and just as I think I've got it down, they change or I change or everything changes and I'm back at the green beginning again.

Maybe I am strange in this regard - heck, I don't know. I'd like to believe that the other rockin' moms I know face similar worries from day to day. But many of them make it look so easy, so effortless, so naturally sweet that I wonder. I wonder if they worry about their daily parenting choices or lose sleep thinking about how fast the tiny tots became teens. I wonder if they, too, share my moments of terror.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Why is it that they come alive just as I need to go to bed?

I DO remember what it was like to be a teen. Admittedly, I can't say it was my favorite time.....but I do long for the endless energy, the stay-up-all-night and party like a rockstar mentality - and physicality - that I enjoyed way back then.

Now, even on my birthday (which for those of you who don't know, is on New Year's Eve) I rarely.....okay, NEVER stay up until midnight. My coach turns into a pumpkin by 10:30. If I don't get at least seven hours of sleep you can forget even trying to talk to me the next day; you will not get anything coherent if you try.

My children, however, come alive just as the clock strikes nine. That is, my teens do (my son is only 12, but he's been well on his way to displaying a full array of teen angst for some time). All evening they can mope around, exhibiting less enthusiasm than a cat for the veterinarian's office, seemingly uninterested and uninspired to say much or do anything. Maybe the Wii.....maybe Facebook....maybe read a little. But REALLY mom, just leave us alone to have our SPACE.

Then, as I tuck in the little one, with a story and a hug, the older ones become animated. I begin to hear peals of laughter and mad keyboard clicking. The inside jokes they share keep them bantering back and forth, their voices getting louder and louder, until the toad of a mother has to remind them to keep their voices down. Sure, mom. No problem. Good night! (translated: okay already. Can you just go to bed?)

And what about those sleep overs? A sleep over is, of course, a misnomer. No sleep happens. It's simply an excuse to stay up all night and goof off with friends. Totally understand that - I even used to do it. But, sheesh, for the life of me I can't remember HOW I used to do it.

Well, I guess I do understand the phenomenon. But right now, having been thoroughly worked over in kickboxing, I'm looking forward to reading for thirty minutes and then falling into the sleep of the dead. Meanwhile, my older kids are quoting their favorite novels at one another using voices I never knew they could mimic, mixing in things from Monty Python and the Terminator, while my son's tongue keeps flicking in and out like the Joker. They are just now ready to play, to explore and to create. I want some of that energy!!

The fun really starts, though, not at nine o'clock tonight, when I'm winding down and they're getting wound up, but at 7am tomorrow morning. I am up by 6 most days, 6:30 if I sleep 7am is rise and shine in our house. MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Maybe I'll sing Reveille! Or better yet, play it on my cornet (that should thrill the neighbors ;)

Why music?

Fair question, I think. I have been asked more than once why studying, playing, and listening to music ranks so high on my family's list of priorities. Why, indeed, considering none of us are remotely Mozart-like and musicians often struggle to make a living, you know - starving artists.

So, why do we do it? The obvious first answer is because we love it how it makes us feel. There is something magical about making your own music - probably much like the rush of completing any other piece of art (this I wouldn't know from experience, though, as I never made it past stick figures!) Plus, sharing music either by making it together or performing for others, is uniting and satisfying in a similar way to the feelings of closeness that are evoked during a good conversation.

I've been asked, though, why do we devote so much TIME to the matter? Wouldn't my children be better served by pursuing something more apt to get them into a better college or promote their current academic advancement? Perhaps. But I like to look at music as a second language - a universal language. It may not pave their ways into Harvard or Yale, but they *could* march in the Disneyland Band or accompany themselves when they belt out 'Wicked' tunes. I think we've learned as much, if not more, history from studying music, musicals, and musicians than from any other method - and I'm quite sure those lessons will never be forgotten.

I like the discipline that we learn through music, too. For lucky kids like mine, often academic pursuits come too easily. They miss the part about trying, then trying again, and practicing to improve. Music is unforgiving in this arena. Sure, there are those who can play anything on any instrument, but my experience has shown me that those folks are rather rare. Most of us must devote regular time to practice and prepare....and that requires commitment, goal setting and determination. I love that about music - in many ways, it is life in microcosm.

Plus, I must be honest. I love to hear my children play. I enjoy having them master something new and share it with others. I really love it when they pick up some new instrument and figure it out on their own, experimenting and improvising.

Music of all kinds makes life so much more enjoyable! We listen to punk, to musicals, to classical piano, big band and sixties hippy stuff. Don't forget that Wizard Rock! O is just beginning her musical experience and I am looking forward to seeing what she comes up with!

Not very tied up, but gotta go to American Girls.......wonder what we'll listen to on the way?

Sunday, February 8, 2009


I found it! I found it! The dark days of worry are over......I can exercise the dog even if I can't walk!

With sadness, anger, and reluctance I've finally come to accept that I may never have the same level of activity that I once enjoyed. My knees will likely never withstand running again and even a race walk with the dog isn't something they will tolerate on a daily basis. Giving up jogging is, well, in the words of my son, 'JUST NOT FAIR!' The endorphin junkie that I am, I have come to rely on jogging and TKD to lift my spirits and brighten my outlook, while helping me to thwart the evil ravages of Father TIme. Alas, I now have to find another way to beat Him and to feed my endorphin habit - but the nagging, aching fear most eating me remains how I can exercise and bond with my dog (and someday another dog) if I can't even WALK him. I can't imagine another forty or fifty years without a canine buddy to share and play with. I'm just not a tiny, couch potato dog person, so a chihuahua or some such dog just won't do - besides, what about Rusty? He is too high energy to sit around all day. So how could I possibly, in good conscience, be a responsible dog owner if I can't run or walk my dog?

Earlier this week I tried to ride my daughter's scooter to exercise Rusty and that worked a bit, but I'm not much of a scooter rider. Put it this way, my bum couldn't take it! My hat is off to skate boarders cuz it ain't as easy as it looks. So, scratch the scooter. Next, I considered skating. Skating is good exercise, utilizes lots of leg muscles, and is easy to do right out of your driveway. My daughter outgrew her skates long ago, but I kept the ones in my size (never mind that they say Brittany Spears), so I have the gear. I remember many skating parties in my youth and I'm in top shape, if you disregard my knees, so it should be no problem, right?? Ha! I got as far as the neighbor's driveway before I realized that not only would Rusty not get any exercise while I was skating - that would require me to go faster than the speed of a turtle - but I'd likely break some other bone or joint to go along with my screwed up knees.

Damn! What now? My son's BMX was closest to the garage door, so I whipped it out in a last ditch effort. Last ditch, you see, because Rusty is known for his mistrust of bicycles. When we first got him he'd bark like a mad dog whenever the mountain bikers would pass us on the trail. As a herding dog, his instincts press him to round up those miscreant wheels that are turning and whirling away from the fold. His drive to herd moving wheels of any kind is so strong that I'll never let him off leash where there are moving cars or bicycles. So, could I get him to run along with me if I were on one of those misbehaving, nefarious bikes? Hmmmm......

Lucky for me Rusty can heel very well. We've done hours of heel training, using 'right' and 'left' commands to turn. In fact, he knows his directions better than I do. More than once, my dyslexia has taken over and I've called 'left' then turned right, only to feel Rusty turn left. He'll look over at me like, 'Dude! Your OTHER left! Sheesh!' Knowing he was proficient with his directions, I felt a little more comfortable; maybe I wouldn't run him over.

When Rusty runs, he likes to grab the leash in his mouth. He'll walk and heel properly at my command, but when we run, we run together, his mouth holding my leash as much as my hand is holding his. So, I began slowly on my son's bike, my knees nearly hitting my ears as I carefully peddled down the middle of the street with Rusty on my right. After a few irritated barks -'What are you DOING? Get off of that thing!' - he grabbed his leash and we picked up the speed. Only two or three times did I have to slow and remind him to stay to the side and not nip at the sheep with wheels that I was riding. I rode and he ran, smiling as only a dog can smile, with tongue hanging out and eyes sparkling.

This afternoon we tried it again, but this time I had the sense to ride my oldest daughter's bike - a mountain bike made for an adult - so the range of motion required of my knees was much easier to endure. Rusty did perfectly and seemed happy doing it! What a tremendous relief!

Now, I just need to use a little ingenuity to create a new collection of cardio activities that I enjoy to replace those that I have lost for my own exercise. I guess if I can get Rusty to accept running with a bicycle I should be able to learn to swim more, or walk inclines, or even drag a sled to get the cardio I need. Maybe I'll even smile while I'm doing it. ;)

Friday, February 6, 2009

On My Own

My turn! My turn! I've shared a blogspot with my family for a while now - and I will continue to do so, as it is a great way for the kids to communicate with far away relatives. But, here I have a place all to myself, a rarity in my busy life. Truthfully, I once loved to write, but I've fallen far out of practice. Perhaps if I actually put my fingers to the keys regularly, I'll find it is an art I haven't completely forgotten. Maybe I'll remember how to use the five dollar SAT words and discard some of my preschool vocabulary. It is even possible I might reconnect with a muse or two and tap the joy I once had, that I now chase with endorphins. We'll see........

For someone who teaches writing and grammar nearly daily you'd think it wouldn't be a big deal to pound out a few ramblings every week. The mumblings and stumblings in my mind, however, often echo inside, reverberating off of every task and plan important for that day, until I can only make out a word or two, the meanings lost in the disarray of a busy schedule. Again, we'll see.......or, rather, I'll write then I'll see ;)

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