My Day as a Runner

I’ve been reading up on the couch to 5-K program on the internet and decided I’d start walking, jogging, then running. If I stick with it, maybe I’ll run a marathon in a year or so. Even now, I can feel the glee as I cross the finish line.
Yesterday I actually got outside. I stretched first, then walked, then jogged. I jogged slowly at first, concentrating on my form because I want to look like those people on the cover of Sports Illustrated magazine. I figure I’d pick up the speed later. Are we done yet? Is it time to go home? What do you mean I’ve just gone a quarter of a mile?! Tell my lungs that! Tell my knees we’ve still got a long way to go. Tell my heart that it’s got to keep beating – just not out of my chest. And for goodness sakes, pick my uterus up off the ground. It fell out on the last turn.
Why did I think this was a good idea? Maybe I’ll just buy the cute running outfits and sip on chocolate protein drinks instead.

That Just Ain't Right

My twin sister and I were raised in the big city. My sister moved to the farm two and a half years ago. Farm life is hard. When I visit, things happen and I think, “that just ain’t right”, but my sister has come to accept these things as normal. For example, little frogs jump onto the sliding glass door and stay there. They have figured out that at certain times of the day flies will see the glass doors as water and fly into them. The frogs will grab these flies and gobble them up. All they have to do is sit on the door and supper comes to them. That just ain’t right.
Last time I visited she had a list of things she needed help with that we could do together. One thing was for us to go to the hardware store and pick up a utility cart that fits behind the 4-wheeler to haul stuff. We took her pickup truck to the store and they loaded it up for us. When we got home we couldn’t figure out how to get the cart out of the back of the pickup as we had no lift. I can’t go into details, let’s just say we got that cart down onto the ground without having to call for emergency services, even though bruises and scrapes were involved. That just ain’t right.
I went to visit my sister this week. We were driving the truck around the property and came across an old abandoned 15 x 4 metal wire fence panel. It was warped and mangled and needed to be moved to the “trash pile”. There is a hole dug on purpose somewhere on the property and they dump things in the hole that will be eventually buried for eternity. We thought it would be a great idea to move this fence panel to the trash pile. But this panel was three times longer than the truck bed and we didn’t have rope to drag it or tie downs to keep it in the truck. So we put it in the back of the truck sideways so at least 5 feet of fence hung over both sides the truck. We drove only a few feet before the darn thing fell off. So we went to plan B. I crawled up into the bed of the truck and sat on the fence panel. Then it occurred to me that if the wire panel fell off the truck, so would I. My sister and I were laughing so hard as she drove to the trash pile, dodging trees and farm equipment by mere inches. That just ain’t right.

Family Reunion Drama

My 11 year old nephew was playing with his 5 year old cousin. He was joking around and started to fake cry. She thought she hurt his feelings, so she began to cry for real. Outright sob. No amount of reasoning on my nephew’s part, telling her he was all right calmed her. She ran into her mother’s arms to be consoled. My brother just put his head in his hands and shook his head. Then, ever so gently said to my nephew, “Son, let this be a lesson to you… little girls are different than little boys.”
I'd like to add that big girls are different than big boys as well. And when big girls cry, remember to bring the dark chocolate.

I Brake For Chocolate

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged. Writer’s block, or more likely sheer laziness and apathy on my part. I’ll make stuff up and back date some entries soon to make it look like I never took a break. But good news: attended the family reunion this past weekend in Seattle and had so much fun. I’ll write more about that when I get more time; but for now, I’ll just mention one of my favorite things…
My brother and family bought me a t-shirt while in Seattle that says, “Give me all your chocolate and nobody gets hurt.” Love it!

The Boy

My sister and I are aunts. The nephews flew from Texas to visit my sister in Oklahoma. One nephew stayed for wrestling camp, the other flew with my sister to Kansas to my house. I don’t have animals or 4 wheelers or a pool like my sister has on her ranch. Nothing fun. So I checked out the local water park. I called ahead and rented a cabana since the temp was going to be triple digits. The guy on the phone wanted to know if I wanted to purchase a meal too. I figure his mom and dad would expect me to feed the boy, so I got that too. I went on a couple of rides. My nephew wanted to do more rides, but not wanting to put up with my further screaming in his ear the entire time, he was a trooper to spend most of the day with his aunts in the lazy river or wave pool. Even though it was a fun day for us old aunts, I’m afraid it was pretty lame for him. So I pulled out the universal symbol of happiness and served him chocolate ice cream when we got home.

Background Music

Life should come with a music score. That way you know when the sharks are coming like in Jaws; when good friends will spill out into the yard for a game of football like in The Big Chill; or when Wylie E. Coyote from the Road Runner will be going off the mountain giving you time to get out of the way before he goes splat in front of you. But life doesn’t come with a music score. Instead, surprises await. Thank goodness for chocolate.

Buying Bulk

I bought granola from one of those warehouse stores, but I don't really care for it. It's one of those things that'll go out with the trash this week. I'm standing in the store and all of a sudden it makes perfect sense to spend $15 on a barrel of snack product I'll never eat this year, much less my lifetime, but it goes in my cart and next thing I know I've got to find a place to store it or eat it up. Either of those decisions will make my head implode, so I'm just gonna trash it and pretty soon I'll forget I even bought it until the next time I'm standing in the aisle hankering for a snack food and all I'll remember is that I bought it once before and it disappeared pretty quickly so I must have liked it and another 10 pound package will go into my cart and the madness starts again.

Important Useless Stuff

June. The month for weddings. And with that are the wedding showers. I attended a shower recently. We played the purse game. You get points for the important useless stuff in the bottom of your purse. Hey! I NEED that travel size hand sanitizer. There’s swine flu, bird flu, cough and cold season to worry about. No matter that the lid is covered in caked on lint and dirt and has become the most unsanitary thing in my purse defeating its purpose. And Hey! You never know when you’ll need that mini sewing kit with the needle thread tool that no one knows how to use. Hems can be mended faster and easier with sewing glue or, better yet, fray the ends and it’s a new trendy look – no sewing kit needed. But there it is, in my purse, just in case. And Hey! Someday that $2 bill is gonna be worth something. Maybe just $2. And Hey! Who knows when some dutiful usher will come asking for that movie ticket stub from the show I saw last month. And Hey! I don’t even know why I still carry the library card from a town I haven’t lived in for years and expired grocery coupons. Shrug.
My friend’s son picked up a rock and asked her to keep it for him. It’s been in her purse for days along with an old Beatles 8-track tape. She doesn’t own an 8-track player. She won.

Inconvenient Hassles

Why is it that a storm can come up and then an hour later the sun comes out leaving no trace of the prior storm; except for the hail marks in your now dented car. I hate it when that happens.
When storms come up so suddenly and hostile, I tend to review my relationship with God when the tornado sirens go off. I begin the bargaining process: Take the hideous hand painted lamp from Aunt Lenabell off to see the Wizard, but leave the autographed Troy Aikman poster on the wall.
Then reality sets in and because I have adequate insurance coverage I decide to just grab the photo albums and the chocolate before taking cover.

Volume Boost

Some songs sound best at full volume. One song I love to crank is Seal’s Crazy. How can you listen to that drum riff and not be happy?
There are car tunes I like to listen to while driving also. Head bobbing, bass blasting, dance in your seat tunes that make the time go by faster and make the traffic seem lighter are the best.
I also have these great tunes on my Zune to exercise with. Oops! I said the “e” word. I shall wash my mouth out with chocolate, then turn up the volume.

Heroes In History

Memorial Day. Check.
Wake up early. Check.
Great weather. Check.
Load car with barbecue supplies and lawn chairs. Check.
Sunscreen. Check.
Cub scouts with maps of Veteran tombstones to place small flags. Check.
Parade route spot reserved. Check.
Crete paper in red, white and blue woven through bicycle spokes. Check.
Go ahead, buy your favorite blogger a hot dog.
Or a new wardrobe.
Without the flag motif.

Loving Kali

It’s hard to lose a pet. It’s sad and sometimes you cry. It hurts in your heart. But guess what! The great memories also live in your heart. And they help ease the pain. So, keep remembering. Keep smiling as you remember. All the rest of your life.
“There’s a place inside the heart where love lives always… where nothing beautiful can ever be forgotten.”

Who Done It

I could never write a TV mystery show. I am sure there is a formula, but I am one that never figures out who did it or why. I’m always surprised by the ending. Worse, I don’t ever remember who did it, so when reruns come around, I am still surprised by who done it.
I think my brain only has enough room for remembering my address, the multiplication tables, and that Des Moines has the highest Jell-o consumption per capita in the US. Everything else, like solving a mystery show or remembering which fork to use at a formal dinner party gets pushed out.
I’m told that brain food from the fish or veggie food groups could help, but Cheetos and chocolate are all I have in the house right now. I’d run to the store and get some brain food, but I can’t remember where I put my car keys.

Taking Up Space

That’s OK. Go ahead and laugh. I can take a joke, even on myself. If you read yesterday’s rant you know my tirade was futile. This blogging software automatically takes out the second space after the period at the end of the sentence. Where does it go and why does it do that? Weird.
Another weird thing: A deer ran through the terminal at the airport today. How does that happen? Did he buy a ticket? Did he have to pay extra for no luggage? Did he call ahead and order the veggie meal? Was he charged the seat locator fee? Will Orbitz show up in the hovercraft and refund my airline ticket? Because, clearly, this deer paid less than me.
Tell ya what… give me back the spaces at the end of my sentences and we’ll call it even.

Breaking the Rules

Some things make us crazy. And if they drive us crazy, then they MUST be driving others crazy too, right? I’d like to think I’m not alone in my neurosis.
For example, it makes me nuts when people put one space after the period in a sentence. Two spaces is how I was taught and two spaces is the correct way it’s done. I get that texting and tweeting shortens the available space for communicating, but one should still follow the “two spaces after the period” rule. That’s just common sense. It reads better. It flows better. It gets more allowance and bigger dessert portions of chocolate and other simple carbohydrates.
I'm not a fanatic though. I can handle other writing mistakes like grammer errors, misspelled words, and even dangling participles. And Lord knows I've ended many a sentence with a preposition! I simply have no tolerance for people who use incorrect ending sentence structure. Use the ! or use the ; or even a series of symbols to end the sentence like @%#! Just be sure and use two spaces after. Thanks.

Make It Yourself

Whether it’s cupcakes for the school bake sale, cookies for your sick neighbor, or a casserole for a potluck dinner - you get more credit if you make it yourself. You can try to do the fake out and put it in your grandmother’s dish, but everyone knows you bought it. Instead, watch the Food Network shows that claim kinda homemade or use only a few ingredients. Those shows are a staple for slapping together dishes you are suppose to have made. But don’t watch the last ten minutes of these shows. They try to show you how to set the table to look like Martha Stewart has thrown up in your dining room. My friends don’t expect that. That, or they have learned to live with the disappointment that it ain’t gonna happen from me. It’s all about the food, not the utensils or landscape used in the gorging of the food.
This weekend is the perfect time to practice making a dish yourself. Surprise your mom on Mother’s Day by cracking an egg in a skillet and pouring a glass of OJ. Mom’s are suckers for anything you’ve made yourself. They’ll gush about it, even if most of it is egg shells.

Shopping Cart Whisperer

Be it the big box store or the grocery, I always seem to get the cart with the squeaky wheel or the lopsided handle. Sometimes you can prop the droopy side up while walking through the aisles and the squeak almost goes away. But if you don’t load the cart with enough weight throughout, you must hold up one entire end of the cart while trying to walk normally to avoid the racket. On those days I usually abandon my list, grab whatever is within arm’s reach, and head directly for the checkout lines. I then wheel the cart out to put the groceries in my car, and as soon as I lift my bags out of the cart and am focused on getting them in the trunk, the shopping cart becomes incredibly light and begins to roll and pick up speed across the parking lot. My purse is still in the front of the cart, so I drop my bags (eggs crash to the ground first of course) and take off running in the direction of the unmanned, runaway cart. I inevitably stumble and fall, scraping my hands and knees, and watch as my cart hits the vehicle patiently waiting for my parking space. Depending on how much of a hurry this person is in and how much blood is involved, I either get a sympathetic nod from the driver of this now dented vehicle because they've been in my shoes before too, or I get a hand gesture too vulgar to describe here. Either way, I wish there had been a class on handling such life issues in school.

First, You Get a Hug

I have a friend whose only purpose in life is to love people. She’s good at it. Her mere presence emits love and compassion. She’s exactly the person you want a hug from when you need encouragement.
We are both directionally challenged. We get lost every time we are together, but laugh it off because we always have a story to tell before the ride is over. Detours on unrecognized streets bring us wonderful adventures we’d otherwise not run into. It would drive others insane, but this is how we roll.
My friend was going to go away this weekend for a fun visit with her sister-in-law. Instead, she will go tomorrow because the family was in a car wreck. The sister-in-law has broken bones in her arms and legs. Her husband may not wake up. One daughter died within hours of the accident. There is concern of spinal cord damage with another daughter.
How does one function after such a tragedy? It’s hard not to focus on the sadness and despair of this situation and become immobile. My friend knows that there is nothing she can do or say to change what has happened, but just by being there handing out hugs, she will make it bearable for her sister-in-law.
My friend called me to help her with directions to the hospital in this unfamiliar town. After much frustration with the many zigzag turns of bad directions on my part from an internet site, she phoned the hospital and got the two turns from the highway to the hospital down. My role is to bring humor to my friend - to help break her free of the numbness and incessant thoughts; to give her an outlet for anger; to provide an escape from reality for a moment. So far, thankfully, that has come naturally for me.

Cinco de Mayo

Today is another one of those holidays where folks don’t get off work, but eating with abandon is encouraged. And today features my favorite food group: Mexican! This past weekend there were celebrations in the park for that with food and fun for all ages.
Also in town this past weekend were Bob and Liddy Dole. They come every year to kick off the lecture series at his Institute. She spoke of how since Clara Barton founded the Red Cross, she was the only other woman to head it up. She explained how she took no money for her first year to show her civic responsibility in volunteerism and support of the President. Without missing a beat, Bob Dole said, "I wish you hadn't done that - we could have used the money!" He went on to thank everyone for making him a 6 term senator, "well", he said, "not everyone here voted for me and I'll talk to you in the parking lot after the lecture!" They were delightful together!
And now I’m off in search of margaritas, enchiladas, and chocolate covered pralines. Olé!

No Purple Allowed

My brother has an intimidating appearance; that is, until he smiles and opens his mouth. He’s one of funniest guys I know and all heart. But his shaved head, handlebar mustache, big physique, and just the right look on his face would scare anyone – including teenagers. If they got out of line, he’d give them a stern talking to, then make them dig a hole and fill it in. And they'd do it for fear he'd eat them if they didn't.
My brother and sister-in-law are taking the nephews and other youths on another church mission trip this summer. They are fun chaperones, but the kids know that if they break a rule that they have to answer to my brother – worse than facing their own parents.
At the last planning meeting the “No Purple Allowed” rule was explained. The boys will be sleeping in the blue room. The girls will be sleeping in the red room. There will be no mixing of the people in the blue and red rooms at any time. In other words, no purple allowed.
It’s just one of many of the trip rules, but knowing my brother is on the other end of breaking the rules helps the rest of the parents sleep well at night!