The T-shirt to Prove It

You can generally pick out the runners in a crowd.  They are usually the lean, muscular, athletic looking ones.  If the looks alone didn’t tip you off, you can usually spot them by the T-shirts they love to wear.  You know, the ones that boast of running various marathons and Fun Runs.

I have to admit that I’ve never have, nor probably won’t ever be  mistaken for one of those athletes.  I simply don’t have the look.  Nope, I’m just not lean or muscular.  Also, I’ve never been much of a runner.  I tried it a few times in the wild days of my youth, but I couldn’t seem to figure out the point of it. 

I have a secret confession though.  I’ve always wanted to earn one of those shirts.  Over the years, whenever I’ve brought up doing a 5K to my friends and family all I got was an eye roll at best or most likely a burst of laughter.  It’s not that they were laughing at me…it’s just that I come from my lack of running honesty.

We don’t run.

So when I started hearing wonderful things about the upcoming Color Run, I got wistful.  I dearly wished for a companion to do it with me.  Of course, there was nothing stopping me from going alone, but where’s the fun in that? I wasn’t even planning on running.  A nice stroll would do.  I just wanted to know that I could do it.

The Color Run

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Then Mimi, who is working hard to get in better shape, sent me a link to Color Run.  She wanted to know if I would be interested in doing it.  I was so excited.  I hadn’t even mentioned it to her, and she was asking me to go with her.  Of course I said yes!

Then my youngest daughter suggested that we invite our neighbor that I occasionally to on  walks with. (We only sometimes go because it’s hard to get the stars aligned just right so that we are both available and it isn’t pouring rain.  That’s a lot harder than you would think.)

Suddenly, I’m no longer desperately wishing for a 5K partner.  I am delighted to be part of a five person team. You can start calling me an athlete now…well, maybe you should wait until after May 13th when I have the T-shirt to prove it                                             

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Not So Foolish April

This morning the dogs woke me up.  They were whining to go outside much earlier than I wanted to get up.  (Granted, one could hardly fault the dogs, as it was a few hours later than I usually am up, but still…  Some mornings are just made for sleeping in.)  I grumbled as I let the dogs out and desperately hoped that this would be the one morning they would want back in within two minutes or so. 

Then I spied Mimi sleeping on the couch.  Apparently she had decided to catch up on her television watching and had fallen asleep there.  (We don’t watch TV during the week in our house.) Realizing that there is a lot of truth to the old cliché that “misery loves company,” I woke her up.  I told her that I thought it was only fair that she let the pups in as I had to come all the way downstairs to let them out. 

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Instead of the outrage I expected, Mimi merely gave me a sleepy grin and said, “You’re just lucky I didn’t Saran Wrap you into your room.”

“Um…thank you?” I responded.   

Then Mimi explained to me that she had been planning to trap me with an invisible barrier  as an April Fool’s joke.  She had discussed it with her father, but knowing that I would probably walk into it in the middle of the night, was worried that I would be angry with her.  Honestly, I have no idea if I would have handled it with good humor or not.  I’m glad she decided not to do it though. 

I have to give her credit for coming up with a plan though.  I always want to play April Fool’s Jokes on people.  The only thing is, most pranks seem rather mean-spirited to me. I love to read about them, but never actually want to do them.   (It is possible this has a bit to do with my forgetfulness rather than my gentle nature though.)

The only joke I can ever remember doing, is telling Shaun that I was pregnant.  As I recall, it worked so well the first year, that I repeated it over and over.  Shaun just shook his head at my sad attempts.  I finally stopped about four years after my hysterectomy.  Oh well…

I hope you have a wonderful, prank-free April!

 

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The Big Five-Oh

When Shaun turned thirty, we threw a surprise party for him.  It was such fun to sneak around, gathering his friends and co-workers in order to celebrate him.  Shaun enjoyed himself, but hated that we all made such a fuss over him. 

This year, I have very specific orders to not make a big deal about today.  Usually I respond to being ordered around by doing the exact opposite.  (It’s just my nature.  Ask my parents who I’m sure would be thrilled to tell you of my many childhood antics. Then again…never mind…don’t ask.  You wouldn’t want to hear about that anyways.)  Yet, because today is special, I have chosen to honor my orders and not make a big deal. 

Today, my husband turns fifty. 

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I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure that qualifies as old.  Well, my  twenty-year-old self would say that was old. Today, I’m going to go with middle age. Well…maybe the very beginnings of middle age.  Hmmm…I have to think about this one. (Of course Shaun, my favorite overgrown kid, has considered himself middle-aged since he was thirty.)

His only request, other than we not make a Big Deal, is for a key lime pie.

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This of course, creates a problem.  A huge ethical problem.  In our family, birthdays are always celebrated with a chocolate cake. (Preferably with German chocolate frosting, but we can be flexible with that.) I’m not sure that I’m willing to break tradition for such a request.  Then again, it is his birthday. 

I’m not so sure I’m going to enjoy this birthday.  After all, I miss out on all the fun of planning a party and I will be deprived of chocolate.  Sometimes life just isn’t fair. 

Wait..this isn’t about me is it? Sigh…

Happy Birthday Shaun! I love you enough to NOT make a big deal about your special day!

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Thank you for reading A Slice of My Life. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did like this post, why not consider “liking” my Facebook Page or signing up in a reader. I’d be thrilled and you would never miss a post!

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The Mixed Up Days of March

I like to think of March as the Friday of the seasons. 

All the mundane grey of winter is nearly over and everyone is looking forward to the weekend…er…spring and summer.  Yesterday I smiled as I checked on the progress of my daffodils and tulips that were pushing themselves up through the earth.  I had a nice chat with the happy faces of the primrose blossoms that come back to visit me every single year.  In spite of my brown thumb. 

This morning I glanced outside my window and was baffled that the towering evergreens  that always greet me were dusted in white. 

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It’s not a lot of snow.  At least not yet.  It’s still snowing out there though. 

Maybe this March is actually a Wednesday.  I take that back.  We have to be at least more than halfway through this season.  After all, Spring is officially starting in thirteen days.  Or so they say. 

My Christmas Cactus has been telling me a different story. 

photo (37)         Right now it’s your job to pretend this is a really great photo.  If you don’t, my iphone will be sad…we don’t want that, do we?

She’s in full bloom right now.  I was just so delighted with the beautiful gift of blooms she gave me, that I wasn’t paying attention to the message she was sending me. 

The holiday season is long past.  (Well, unless you pretend to be Irish and are looking forward to the silliness that happens a little later this month!)  Yet the weather, and my cactus don’t seem to know that.  Who am I to argue with a Christmas Cactus?

Apparently, the winter is here to stay for a few more days.

 

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The Visionary

A couple months ago, I got my eyes examined by a new optometrist. I was pleasantly surprised to find a doctor that listened to everything I had to say about my eyesight.  He asked all right questions and gave me reassuring answers to the concerns that I had.  Well…they were all reassuring until we discussed why I was having trouble seeing things up close. 

The doctor was very tactful, but he basically told me that my eyesight was changing because I was getting older.  Great.  I’d been able to focus on anything as close as half-an-inch away from my nose for my entire life, and then all of a sudden I needed reading glasses. 

He must have noticed the chagrined look on my face because he suggested an alternative to what I thought of as “granny glasses.”  He could order the usual lens to correct the myopic vision for one eye.  Then he could order a lens to correct the hyperopic vision for my other eye.  All I had to do was look out of whichever eye I needed at the time. I had to think about that for  a minute or two.  (I also had to ask him what hyperopic meant.  I’d never been farsighted before so I had no idea.  Just in case you’ve never been nearsighted, that’s what myopic means.  I’ve known that one since grade school.)

I told my new optometrist that I wasn’t so sure that was a good idea.  I kept visualizing myself driving down the road and getting something in my eye.  I worried that it would be so painful that I wouldn’t be able to keep my eye open. Then I wouldn’t be able to see the road with the way the other eye had been corrected. I explained that not being able to see while driving could end badly.

I’m pretty sure the doctor rolled his eyes as he gently asked me how often that happened.  I answered that I could only think of one time…when I was about eighteen.  Obviously it had made a huge impact on me. I simply couldn’t take the risk of that happening again. 

Getting used to carting a pair of “readers” along with me wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.  It didn’t take long for the self-consciousness of pulling them out to read small print to wear off. Still, a part of me daydreamed about having not having to use them.  I wondered if the two very different lens for my eyes would actually be a good idea after all.

That was until I was driving home late this evening.  Something landed in my eye (I’m pretty sure it was a skyscraper) and I couldn’t keep it open for the life of me.  In fact, it was also a struggle to keep the other eye open. It seemed to want to close in sympathy. 

Somehow I managed to arrive home without crashing myself into a ditch.  As I  examined my poor eye in the mirror, I took a good look at my mascara and tear streaked face.  I couldn’t help but congratulate myself for having the foresight to trust myself.

I can hardly wait until my next eye exam. I’ve got a few things to talk to that optometrist about.

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Thank you for reading A Slice of My Life. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did like this post, why not consider “liking” my Facebook Page or signing up in a reader. I’d be thrilled and you would never miss a post!

Posted in Humor, It's all about me!, Random stuff | Tagged , , , | 19 Comments

Speaking of Serendipity

Ok, maybe we weren’t speaking of serendipity, but we should.  It’s got a great meaning and it just feels good saying it.  Try it.  Let it just roll out of your mouth ser-innnn-dip-it-eee.  It helps if you play by saying the “dip” in different octaves.  (If you are like my husband, you are probably rolling your eyes right about now.  Poor feller…he misses out on so many simple pleasures.)

Anyways.

Last night I was working on a post and everyone was bothering me.  Even the dog was bothering me.  I was really stressing myself out about my new commitment to start posting again.  Then I remembered that I hadn’t committed to writing every single day.  This isn’t the craziness of Nablopomo that I seem to keep signing up for each November. 

No, I reminded myself gently.  This writing, this blog, is for me.  It’s for me to remember all those little moments that I would otherwise forget.  It’s a bit of “ME” time because I do love the simple process of writing, of getting my thoughts down. 

(OK, if I’m being honest here, that wasn’t exactly how it happened. It was more like me muttering about annoying families, then slamming my laptop shut (gently, of course.) and stomping off to bed.  It wasn’t until I was nestled under the blankets that I started reminding myself why I wanted to start blogging again.  It wasn’t my family’s fault that I was a little grumpy.  They aren’t used to me wanting to be alone for a little while in the evenings again.  Hmmm…I wonder if I can establish an eight o’clock bedtime again?)

Anyways.  Back to serendipity.

I came across a blog formed by two teachers that are hosting a Slice of Life Challenge.  They just want kids (and grown-up kids) to write.  Simple as that. 

I’m in.  No pressure to write everyday. (Although they do encourage it.) Just doing what I love to do best. Writing little Slices of Life. 

How’s that for serendipity?

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Blame It On Facebook

Last week, Carol of Northwest Ladybug made a post that’s been clanging around in my mind for that last few days.  (I hope you are happy Carol!) Basically, she wrote about how she had started to second guess herself about what would be interesting on her blog.  It was so much easier (and safer) to just jot a little blurb on Facebook.  But…she missed blogging.

“Yeah! I know exactly what you mean,” I told her. (In my head of course, because it was late at night and she wasn’t anywhere around…so maybe I was really talking to me.)

I do know what she means though.  I’ve been feeling the same thing.  A few years ago, one of the best parts of my day was to snuggle down at my computer after the rest of the household had gone to bed and to write a quick little post about my day.  (Well…it usually had more to do with a family member than myself.  They were much more fun to write about…besides, they were busy sleeping and didn’t have any say in what I wrote.)

Then I met Facebook.  It was instant love.  I was thrilled to have contact with so many family members and long lost friends.  With all the chatting, silly games, and forwards going on, it just seemed to make more sense to write a couple sentences, then to go into detail about whatever it was that was going on in our lives.

I’ve been feeling uneasy about leaving out all those little details for a while now.  So many things, that I meant to write down are now forgotten.  I cringe when I struggle to remember those little particulars and find they are just out of reach. 

Mostly though, I miss the writing.  Someone recently told me that writing was hard. I had to think about that for a moment.  I do agree that some writing is hard. But blogging…now that’s just plain fun. 

So I’m going to work harder, to make the time to jot down the slices of my life.  After all, as my tagline says, they are the “moments to be treasured.”  I need to start doing that again, for my own enjoyment…and hopefully yours.  I hope you will be with me to enjoy the moments.  (And possibly egg me on.) 

Thanks again, to Carol, for the inspiration. 

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Pancakes

When I peeked into Facebook last night, I was rather baffled to find that nearly everyone was talking about pancakes for dinner.  Huh? Pancakes? Sure, we like to have breakfast-for-dinner as much as the next family, but why on earth was everyone doing it at the same time?

Apparently, it was Fat Tuesday and according to tradition,  we were all supposed to eat pancakes to use up all the butter, eggs and sugar in the house.  (Of course, there was another small group that were dining on Jambalaya, and one healthy soul who showed off her lovely stir fry. It was definitely the night to show-off dinner.)  Before my addiction to mild interest in Facebook, I would have been perfectly happy with my dinner of tepid gruel. Suddenly, I felt terribly left out. 

I was still thinking about my lack of pancakes when I texted my friend Sue an hour of so later.  I needed to confirm that we were indeed meeting at the gym in the wee hours of the morning as we had tentatively agreed on.  (I have to admit that I was secretly hoping she had broken her toe or something so that we could postpone our commitment to daily workouts again.)  Sue answered that she was perfectly healthy and was ready to meet me at the gym.  Then, good sport as she is, without even asking why I wanted to know, she let me know that her family had not eaten pancakes, nor jambalaya.

As I stumbled along on a treadmill to nowhere this morning, I told Sue that it was Lent and we had to give something up.  My friend just looked at me for a moment, before shaking her head and reminded me that I don’t celebrate Lent. 

She was right.  I don’t celebrate Lent. 

In fact, growing up, the only family I knew that celebrated it happened to be my best friend that lived two houses away from me.  Mostly what I remember was the feeling of special celebration and the palm fronds her mother reverently placed behind the crucifix hanging on the living room wall.   I vaguely remember she had to give up something important to her.  I’m pretty sure they didn’t have pancakes though.  

It didn’t matter to me.  I hate feeling left out and felt I had to give something up.  Sue sighed in that patient way she has and said that we could both give up being lazy.

Rats.  I was hoping it could be more along the lines of giving up pancakes…which I don’t particularly care for anyways. 

I need to get to bed as the new non-lazy Susan has to be back at the gym in the wee hours of the morning for the second day in a row.

This is going to be harder than I thought. 

 

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Posted in Food, Humor, It's all about me!, Ya gotta have friends! | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

Finding The Words

I realize that it is well past January first, the day that we have all decided is the perfect day to announce our resolutions and goals for the coming year.  I’ve never really been one to follow all the rules though. 

Please join me over at Life as A Human to see what my one-and-only goal for this year is.  My guess is that it’s going to surprise you…it certainly surprised me!

Shakespear's Words

Did I mention to click HERE?

Posted in It's all about me!, Life As A Human, That Man O' Mine, Writing | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

The Great Snowpacolypse of 2012

On Wednesday, I posted to my Facebook Page that the national news proclaiming that we we all on the brink of freezing to death here in Seattle, was greatly exaggerated.  Yes, we had a lot of snow, the power had gone out a few times…but really…we were all okay.

Apparently Mother Nature didn’t take kindly to my poo-pooing all of her efforts to totally freak us out.  The very next morning, shortly before five, I woke up and realized that the power had gone out.  As I let the dogs outside, I blearily noted that another couple inches of snow had fallen.  I shrugged it off and went to back to bed unconcerned.  I had faith that the good folks at PSE (Puget Sound Energy) would soon have us up and running again.  

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Maggie felt that standing on my feet was the safest option.  No, she’s not spoiled!

Several hours an hour or so later, I woke up shivering.  I  pulled the spare blanket over us and grabbed my beloved iPhone to see what was going on in the world.  Hmmmm….maybe things were worse than I had thought.  PSE was working hard, but over 200,000 homes didn’t have power, there had been an ice storm that closed down our airport, and our governor had declared that the entire state of Washington was in a State of Emergency!

Knowing that the National Guard was ready to come rescue us at any moment told me that maybe I should be just a little more concerned about our well-being.  I decided that my best course of action was to remain very quiet in hopes that this entire mess would be resolved before my family woke up and panicked.  (This philosophy may have something to do with the fact that I have yet to be elected Ruler of the World.)

As luck would have it, Shaun woke up.  My husband isn’t one of those people that can be content to let the National Guard come and rescue us.  (I, on the other hand, had already placed my order for a skinny cinnamon dolce latte and was patiently waiting for it to be delivered)  He insisted that we head out into the world and go exploring. 

I grew up and learned to drive in sunny San Diego, where we simply don’t “do” snow. So it’s only natural that I do my best to avoid going out in the snow. I’m perfectly happy enjoying it from the comfort of my window.  Shaun, on the other hand,  is proud of the fact that he grew up in the snowy Rocky Mountains of Colorado.  He’s been known to mention how he drove a Chevy Nova with bald tires and bad breaks.  Instead of being scared silly, my husband looks at driving in our Seattle snow as an adventure.

It took a lot of cajoling on his part, but eventually, Shaun convinced Mimi and I to bundle up and trudge through the nearly hip-deep snow to the Jeep.  Then he pointed it down the icy road in front of our home. 

photo (22)                                                         Honestly, it’s hard not to look at this picture and recall the overwhelming feeling of panic.  And the gleeful cackling of my Beloved.  

After a few days of heading out to “explore” I gradually managed to calm down and enjoy the ride.  (You didn’t think Shaun would be content to stay home in a cold, dark house when there was exciting things to see, did you?) Everywhere we went, we saw tree branches down, line crews working to restore power, and beautiful white snow. 

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It’s been an interesting week.  Snow storms, ice storms, wind storms, power outages, and now flooding.  (I refuse to ask what’s next because I’m sure Mother Nature is just waiting for someone to egg her on!) Happily, Seattle has stuck true to her reputation of being an incredibly friendly city.  We’re so grateful to the many friends with electricity that have invited us to weather out the storm in their homes.  And of course we’ve been happy to assist folks without four-wheel drive.  It’s a good feeling to know how well we, as a community, have all pulled together.  

As fun as it’s been, I’d rather not do this again.

 

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