We have a Christmas Eve tradition in our family.  Wait... how many years does it take to make something a tradition?  Two?  Five?  I guess if you have kids, then it's a tradition if you do it more than once, even if by accident.  Like, say, you have spagetti for dinner the night before their birthday two years in a row.  Not on purpose, but suddenly it's a tradition that can't be broken and heaven forbid you try to have tacos the next year.  Not that I'd know anything about that.

Anyhow, our pseudo tradition is one that I don't really want to keep up.  It's that someone is sick on Christmas Eve.  Last year it was the oldest, who had the flu and kept throwing up, but was recovered in time to open presents on Christmas.  This year it's me.  Does it make me a bad parent to wish it were them?  I mean really, what do they have to do today?  Despite feeling like I've been run over with a truck I've still managed to get the dogs from the kennel (we were gone for a few days and got home last night at midnight), go to the grocery store, make lunch, clean the house, and wrap a crapload of presents today.  Still haven't managed a shower yet, but it's only 2:40 so there's still time. 

Right now I'm going to take a break.  Have some tea, which will hopefully clear out my head so I can breathe because I'm partial to getting air in my lungs, and catch up on the football scores.  We've already decided to forego the Christmas Eve dinner (I am SO not up to cooking that tonight) and just have pizza instead.  I'm pretty sure the kids will appreciate that.

When bad things happen to good people.  You hear it all the time in the news and think "that stinks" and then promptly forget about it.  Well, here's the latest one.  It's about a man who goes to the doctor with worries and after tests is told that everything is ok.  Then, months later, he's diagnosed with Stage 3 cancer.  What makes this so horrible is that I know the guy.  I did MOPs (Mothers of Preschoolers.  A fantastic organization if you have little ones) at his church when my kids were small.  Many of my good friends go to his church.  I am friends with his wife.  It's the sort of thing that makes you feel helpless. And what's most amazing is that he hasn't lost his faith or gotten angry.  There's a lesson in that.  Anyhow, if you want to read more or are just morbidly curious, check out his blog:

Randy's Blog

Another one of my friends just announced that she's pregnant.  They all just hit the end of their first trimester, so everyone is letting the world know they are expecting.  But what's strange about this is that all of them are having their first kid.  It's all my friends that missed the first round of babies when we were in our mid-20s, so now that we are in our mid-30s, they are all getting pregnant.  My husband asked me if it makes me sad or makes me want another kid, and I can honestly say no to that.  I am so thrilled that my kids, while not very little anymore, are competent.  They can walk, they can can dress themselves, feed themselves, they are potty trained, they can get themselves in/out of the car.  They are functioning people.  It's really nice.  The only thing I miss about the baby stage is the cuddling, because there's nothing quite like holding a sleeping baby that snuggles up into your chest.  But I'll trade that for kids that can go without naps, allowing us to do more stuff each day, and I'll get my baby snuggle fix in about 6 months when all my friends have their babies.

We put up our outside lights this past weekend and noticed that no one else seemed to have any up.  Then I saw this on my way out this morning.

Now, in theory, this should convince people to put up more lights, but somehow I think it's just incentive for people to actually put up lights.  I mean really- there are 1500 houses in our neighborhood (I still get lost driving around), and maybe 200 of them have up lights.  Really?  As someone who loves Christmas, I think that's just kind of sad.  On the up side, maybe it means that we'll win!

Call me a dork, but when this

came in the mail today, I was pretty excited.  The yarn is called Cherry Chip and is shades of brown and dark red.  I'm working on making a blanket for my mom.  It was supposed to be for Christmas, but that isn't going to happen, so I am shooting for her birthday in February.  I couldn't find the yarn in any store around here, so I had to order it online.  I'm a bit miffed because when I looked for it online it was $2.50/skein (yep- we're talking real quality stuff here), but when I got around to starting the project and ordering it a couple weeks later it was up to $4 a skein.  Rats.  At any rate, it's going to be beautiful. 

What the heck happened to my post? 

We'll try this again.

I ran the Freedom 5K and it was the most fun race I've ever run.  The race was in honor of the Army/Navy game and so each person had to pick a team- either Army or Navy (as a side note, the Navy bibs were printed in Blue and said Go Navy). 

Much of the course was lined with little American flags, and around the 3-mile mark people were handing out mini flags to the runners so you could carry one to the finish.  Not only was the course beautiful, but it was a little bit road and a little bit trail, so it was intereseting.  The top 100 finishers got a commerative dog tag (if you care, I was 74th overall and 3rd in my age group), and the first "team" with 50 people to finish won the race overall.  In this case, it was Army (yea!).  So everyone with an Army bib gets some cool free stuff- a t-shirt (the race gimme was a knit hat), running socks, pizza, popcorn, coffee, etc.  Nice!

I'm sitting here trying to ignore my kids, who are currently upstairs complaining because I didn't let them do what they wanted.  When asked why, I told them it was because I was mean.  Funny how easily they accepted that. 

I want to apologize to my mom, for all these moments that I gave her when I was younger.  She keeps telling me that payback's a bitch, but of course she's much more polite about it.  I can only hope my grandkids (which will magically appear when my kids turn 30, and even then by immaculate conception) give my kids as much grief as they give me on a daily basis.  And why do they do that?  Is it genetically imprinted in kids to annoy their parents?  They ask for/to do something and automatically get pissy when they don't get the answer they want, but when I give them the long drawn-out explanation as to why things are that way, they lose interest and don't really care.  I am going to revert to that old standby- "Because I said so." 

See this poor little basil plant?  I've been trying to grow it since we got here.  I love basil, but it's so darn expensive in the store that I usually just grow my own.  It works much better in the ground then in a pot, so I plant it in the spring and use it fresh all summer, then dry it and use it all winter.  Well, I'm alsmost out of dried (the horror!), so I thought I'd try to start a new pot.  We tried to grow basil ijn a pot when we lived in upstate NY, but it was way too cold and the summers were too short, so it never amounted to much.  The problem is that it likes warm weather and sun.   Before moving here we lived out West, where it's sunny all the time.  But here?  I'm not sure they even really have sun, because I've hardly seen it.  So this poor little pot gets carried around the house chasing the sun.  I checked yesterday and we have 1 sprout, so maybe it'll work. 

Ah.....  Isn't it beautiful?  The sale was finalized today (i.e. the buyer closed on the house today and it was recorded as an official transaction in the country records).  Yea!

I heard on the news this morning that Black Friday and Cyber Monday shopping was up from last year.  Estimates were something like 15-18% up from last year.  Does that mean the economy is recovering?  I remember was back when I was in high school (hey, not too long ago.  We haven't had out 20-year reunion yet!) I was in an economics class and we were learning about the last recession in the 80s.  My teacher told us about how President Reagan lied to the public and gave a speech on how the recession was over, which caused consumer confidence to rise, so people went out and spent money, so that spurred the economy to recover faster.  Now is that true? In college I learned that it was somewhat true, but what I've taken away from that particular lessons, all these years later, is that the economy won't grow or recover unless there's money put into it.  While I didn't get up and go shopping at midnight (or at all) on Friday, we managed to our share of holiday shopping.  I think Black Friday is blending in to Gray Weekend (trademark pending- don't steal my catch phrase!), so with all the great deals out there, how could you not buy those things you were going to buy anyway but are now not only on sale but have free shipping?  So how much did you do to help the economy this past weekend? 

Happy Thanksgiving! 

Woke up and it was sunny (a rarity for here) and cold.  I decided to put off my run until later when I won't freeze to death.  After all- who can cook if they are frozen?  Or dead?

We have the best reason to be thankful this year- I have, in my hot little hands, the final paperwork for our house!  All we have to do is sign it before a notary and our house is sold!  It took 3 months from the time we put it on the market until we close next week.  I'd like to say it was our awesome house or fabulous agent, but really it's just luck.  There were 2 other identical houses in our neighborhood for sale (1 was a foreclosure and the other was on the market for 2 years) so why did the guy choose our house and not those?  Well, the foreclosure takes 6 months to buy, but the other one?  I'm not arguing.  3 months!  I'm so thrilled and can't wait to sign those papers and mail them back.  Yea!

We did it- moved 2500 miles cross country- and are now living on the east coast. Everyone we knows thinks we are nuts and will be back. Really? That's a lot of work to just change our minds and move back. I figure there are 2 types of people with regards to jobs- those who stay put and find a new job at a different company and those who move to the job. Apparently we are those who move to the job. I spent my whole life before college in the same town in the same house. That's how you end up in a rut. Moving isn't a bad thing. It broadens your horizons, gives you new perspectives, forces you outside your comfort zone. Nothing wrong with that.


Things aren't perfect, but I'm still glad we moved. Our house is smaller so we've had to get rid of a lot of stuff. The schools require a physical (complete with psych eval!!) before kids can start school, so they were out longer than expected. It's rained almost every day since we've been here (What's that stuff falling from the sky? Rain? Huh. So that's what that is.). I keep getting lost in our neighborhood (it's huge with lots of winding roads), but only when I'm really trying to find something. The things they call mountains here are little more than bumps. But all in all it's not bad. I am trying to focus on the positives. I've found Target and a grocery store. The local school is supposed to be the best in the area. We have a huge yard and there are lots of other kids in the neighborhood to play with. It's only 11 hours from our families (as opposed to a 4-hr flight or 3-day drive).  And, best of all, there's a running path the goes around the entire neighborhood (and in this case I wouldn't mind getting lost). 

So this has to be the last post for awhile.  I know, shocker, right?  I haven't been so good at updating this fall.  What with the birthdays and the cleaning the house and the selling the house and the moving.  Sigh.  But it's almost over.  We sold our house (thank you God!) and are leaving next week.  Yes, I said next week.  Don't worry, it still doesn't seem real to me either.  The movers come in 1 week and I'm still thinking that I'd like to dig things out of the boxes we've already packed. 

Anyhow, the house looks fabulous.  Moving, or should I say selling your house, is really good for some things.  I'm not one of those people who vacuum every day- I mean really, get a life- but I kep the house clean.  But with it being sold and having to be show-ready, it is spotless.  This forced us to do all those things I've been thinking we need to do but haven't managed to get around to doing, like painting the whole house, cleaning out the window tracks, cleaning all the screens in the windows, and all those other little things that I just keep putting off.  And man are my windows clean!

The only downside I can see about this is that the kids aren't thrilled that we are decoration-less.  My husband loves Halloween and the kids love decorating, so they are going through withdrawal.  We take the dogs for a walk every night and the kids have resorted to counting the number of houses that are decorated.  All I can say is thank goodness we are moving before Christmas! 

As the boxes pile up around me, literally, I'll just say don't miss me too much.  I'll be back after we're settled and have the internet again. 

Last week was Fall Break.  Think Spring Break, but in the middle of October, but without the big trips and partying.  Who wants to go hang out at the beach when it's chilly out everywhere?  I don't think it exists anywhere else but here, and I know we didn't get a random week off in October when I was a kid, so my kids were pretty lucky they got the week off.  Sorta.  They both have October birthdays, so I take the week to schedule their annual doctor checkup (with flu shots!) and a dentist appointment for them.  So at least that way they were tortured as much as I was.  I mean really.  A week off in October?  What's the point of that?  This week is parent teacher conferences, so there are 2 half days on Thursday and Friday, so they basically won't have gone to school for 2 weeks.  School starts the first week of August, so maybe this is payback for starting extra early, but I personally think it's 1) to torture parents, and 2) because the teachers are sick of the kids by now.  In that order.  Come yesterday, guess who didn't want to go back to school?  Yeah.  They were still complaining about it last night. 

We went fishing last weekend and I got stung by something with a stinger.  It hurt.  I felt something fluttering around where your arm attches to your body (chest?  shoulder? upper arm?) and absently scratched at it.  Next thing I know there's this incredible pain right there.  I thought it was a really big red ant biting me, but it hurt much worse than a red ant bite.  So I looked down and saw nothing.  So I pulled down the neck of my shirt and there was a stinger sticking out of my body, with hair/fur from the thing still attached.  I grabbed it and pulled it out, but there was still 1/4 inch stuck in me.  Yeah.  1/4 inch!!  What the heck was that thing?  I looked around and couldn't find a body and it wasn't in my shirt, so I have no idea what happened to the owner of said stinger.  I yelled for my husband to come look (he was only a couple feet away, but I was a bit panicked by then) and he had to take the pliers out of the fishing bag and pull the stinger out. 

Now normally a bee sting or wasp sting or some kind of flying bee-type creature sting isn't a big deal. But I'm allergic.  At least I used to be.  I remember being sent home from school in junior high because I got stung by a bee and my arm swelled up.  I think I was in high school before I realized that most people didn't swell up and get welts on their skin when stung.  I haven't been stung since I was a kid, so we weren't sure what was going to happen.  As it turns out, not much.  I got a welt and it was red and swollen and super itchy in an area about the size of your fist on Sunday.  Today, 4 days later, the red part is about the size of a half dollar and the itching is gone.  Huge improvement.  I'm not sure if this means I'm no longer allergic or if the reaction has lessoned (because I'm bigger?), but I'll take it. 

First, check out this post on Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/photo.php?fbid=2545702681966&set=a.2545702521962.2154719.1235752135&type=1&theater

I am slightly offended by this.  Part of me says "yeah!  Good on ya!  Why should our self esteem be dictated by our weight?"  Initially I thought "yep- that's what women need to hear."

But then I read on.  The rest of the note below the picture.  I think it was somewhere around the the middle that I started getting irked.  Yeah.  I'm skinny.  I'm not a mermaid.  I work out.  I eat right.  I'm blessed with good genes.  I kept reading and started to be a little resentful.  Yes, it's a good thing to encourage women- especially children and teenagers who are growing into this society- that you don't have to be thin to be beautiful.  But don't hate those who are thin.  I'm loved.  I have friends.  Kids.  A husband.  I don't obsess over my weight and, quite frankly, I'm a bit offended that this article implies differently.  It started out with a positive message, but ended up ticking me off by going too far as to imply that all thin people have problems and aren't "real" women.  Why can't we all just be happy at the size we are?  Why can't we accept that everyone is different- different sizes, shapes, colors, personalities, ideas.... how boring would life be if everyone was the same?

I'm allergic to sugar.  Well, not so much allergic as intollerant.  Think of somone you know who is lactose intollerant, then think of what happens to them when they eat, say cheese.  If you don't know, go ahead and look it up.  That's what happens to me when I eat sugar.  It's not a huge deal, I've just learned to cut sugar almost completly out of my diet.  I can eat about 5g per meal, but that's pretty much my limit.  And if you were wondering, 5g is about as much as you get in 1/2 a serving of peanut butter (yep- there's sugar in peanut butter!).  So for the most part, that means that deserts are out and so are all those yummy Starbucks drinks, unless I can get them in a "skinny" version.  It took me about a year to really accept this, and every now and then it's hard to not eat a piece of cake or some Halloween candy, but I'm ok with it now.

Now I'll admit- sugar intollerance really isn't that common.  Most people look at me like I'm crazy, so I usually just tell them I'm allergic to sugar.  But what really bugs me is when people feel the need to comment on it.  Let's get this out there- I'm skinny.  I struggle with my weight, but not the way most people do, I have a hard time keeping it on and usually hover around the very bottom of "normal" for my height.  But that is a totally different issue for another day. 

Anyhow, back to the sugar thing.  When I go to, say Starbucks, I'll order a "skinny" drink and I'll hear comments.  Yes, I hear you behind me making snide remarks.  Or when I skip dessert people feel the need to try and force something sugary on me.  Even my friends who know I can't eat sugar do this, which irks me to no end.  Especially my friend who is lactose intollerant- it's not like I try to force feed her ice cream or milk.  Or when people ask me why I don't just eat fake sugar (put all those chemicals in my body?  Ewwww).  Do they really think they are helping?  Does it make them feel better?  It's like kids making fun of someone who is different, but with a little bit more tact.  Sometimes.

So why do people try to cram as many cars as possible into things like parking  lots or through a green light?  We're like ants in a row, or some other animal that tries to cram as many of themselves as possible in one little spot.  I was thinking about this question while driving home today. 

I was on a road with construction, making it one lane in the direction I was traveling.  By the way, this is very annoying because the city had just redone this road a couple months ago, snarling traffic, and now it's all torn up again.  Anyhow, I was behind this guy who paused at the yellow light, then decided to go anyway and didn't really make the light.  That left me as the first in line at the red light.  As I watched the cars line up behind me, I noticed the drivers were getting impatient because I was going straight and they wanted to turn right.  But, because of the aforementioned construction, they were stuck waiting for the light to turn green and for me to go.  So as I sat there thinking about their impatience and the guy who considered stopping but decided to run the light, I decided to do a little experiment.  I inched for about 2 feet.  Then watched every other car in line behind me (about 15) get as close to the car in front of them as possible without actually hitting that car.  Why do people do that?  Personally, it's one of my pet peeves.  Sure, sometimes I do the inch-forward thing, but for the most part I try not to.  Is a few feet really going to make a difference?  Is there really a need to creep forward?  It won't give me a jump when the light turns.  In fact, it's the opposite- that few extra feet will give you a chance to get up your speed.  You know, so you can then slam on your brakes to avoid rear ending the car in front of you.  So what's our fascination with getting there first?  Rushing through the light?  Are we really that important or in that big of a hurry we can't wait the extra 3 minutes (or 2 feet!)?

I recently cut all my hair off to donate.  I have a friend whose daughter has done it a few times and I have two friends that have done it as adults.  When my daughter heard about this she wanted to know more about it, so I told her what they do with the hair and how it goes to people who have lost their hair due to diseases.  She thought that was cool and decided to do it herself.  She'd never had her hair cut more than a trim, so she had a lot to cut off.  And that got me thinking. 

If my kid could be so selfless, why couldn't I?  I mean, it's just hair.  It will grow back.  (On a side note, I've never understood why people are so opposed to getting their hair cut.  Look at those makeover shows.  People freak out at the haircut part.  Who cares?  It will grow back!)  So a bit later I started growing mine out to cut.  It was really short then and it took me 18 months (almost exactly!) to get it long enough, but 2 weeks ago I went and got it all cut off.  I donated 8 inches to make wigs, then they had to cut another 2 inches off to give it some style.  But all in all, I'm pretty pleased with myself.  I'm fortunate- I don't have a disease that makes me lose my hair or one where the medicine to cure makes my hair fall out.  I can grow more.  It's pretty short, but not too bad.  And if I want to, in about a year it can be long again.

Look at that!  It worked!  I sent this from my cell phone.  Here's a picture of the coffee cup that matches my tank top. 

Now that I know I can use my cell to post pics (because the camera cord is already packed), think of the possibilities!  It's amazing what cell phones can do these days- you hardly need a computer anymore. 

Funny story.  Over the summer we took the kids to one of those paint your own pottery places, where you paint the stuff, leave it, they fire it, and then you come back in a couple days and pick up the finished piece.  Well, way back when I was pregnant with our first kid, I went to one of those places with friends and made a coffee cup for myself.  Now, years later, it's been dropped, hit, bumped around and there are cracks and chips in it (apparently they don't have the highest quality dishware at those places).  So I wanted a new coffee cup. 

When we went, I picked out a new cup that was almost like my old, giant one.  I painted it in colors that I thought would be pretty.  It's a speckly white with a turquoise rim and turquoise polka dots, then the inside and the handle are a purplish muave color.  I'd show you a picture, but when we were boxing up things to move the cord for the camera apparently got packed because I can't find it anywhere to download pictures.  So just use your imagination. 

Here's the funny part.  About a 2 weeks ago I was wearing my favorite tank top and drinking coffee and I noticed that my coffee cup matches my tank top.  Yep.  I somehow managed to match the colors- perfectly- to my favorite tank.  How funny is that?  I wasn't even wearing it when we painted, but I guess subconsciously I really liked those colors.  Crazy.

Today marks 6 months since I broke my elbow.  Has it really been that long?  The good news is that it's way better than the doctor expected.  It's the only real bone I've broken though (I broke a toe once and had a stress fracture in my foot), so I really had no idea what to expect.  The last time I was at the doctor, 2 months after surgery, he told me my arm would never straighten and that I'd be "permanently disabled" if it had happened at work.  That wasn't the greatest doctor's appointment I've ever had and I came home pretty despressed.  Because, at that time, I still wasn't able to use it much and had trouble doing basic things, like putting my hair in a ponytail.  But guess what?  It'is way better than he told me it was going to be.  My husband thinks that the doc purposely set my sights low so I wouldn't be disappointed.  That, and most elbow breakes are from old poeple, so their recovery wouldn't be neary as good.  Anyhow, But the other day we were eating dinner and my husband noticed that I can bend my arm.  All the way.  As in bend my elbow and touch my shoulder.  How cool is that?  I have no idea when it happened, but sometime over the last 6 months I got almost full range of motion back.  Nice.  It is still a little weak- like when packing boxes and carrying them out to the garage and my elbow ached for days, or after about 45 minutes of biking when it starts to hurt from putting pressure on it.  And I can't straighten it all the way, but all in all I'm pretty happy with where it is now. 

Ahhhhh.... Labor Day, come and gone.  Most people think of it as the end of summer.  I like to think of it as the beginning of fall.  Sports start.  School starts (well, ours starts a month ago, but most reasonable places start around now).  Football starts.  It's the beginning of that great fall weather which is perfect for working out in the great outdoors. 

However, I was unable to enjoy the fact that yesterday was 80 and cloudy- near perfect for running.  My husband took the oldest cross country this weekend to look for a place for us to live when we move in a month or so.  I'd like to have a place already rented (we plan to rent till we sell our house which, God willing, will be quick!) so the moving van and my Fitness magazine know where to go.  I'm picky like that. 

So the hubby and oldest are out looking for dwellings and, when I talked to him last night, the kid is acting like a saint, despite the 3-hr time change, long flights, lots of driving around, and non-normal eating schedules.  It always amazes me when the kids come through.  They can be total brats at home (don't judge.  You know your kids have been bratty before), then pull of an "I'm the most perfect kid ever" routine when out in public.  Drives me nuts.  Can I get some of that agreeableness and good will at home?  Every once in awhile?  I'm not going to lie- I'm kind of dreading the teen years.

I'm on a new diet that works great. I lost 6 pounds in the past week. I ate normally and hardly worked out at all. Want to know the secret? Mix 2 parts stress with 1 part caffeine, throw in insomnia, and there you go. Instant weight loss. Although I should mention, I'm positive this isn't doctor approved.

See, we're moving. Cross country. Going from the West to the East Coast. It's somewhere around 2000 miles. So if that isn't stressful enough, we're going to sell our house. Yes, I said sell. We'll give it 6 months, then rent it out if we need to. It goes on the market tomorrow and we're getting the pictures taken today, so for the past week I've been doing nothing but painting, cleaning, painting, organizing, painting... you get the idea. Did you know that you burn 230 per hour of painting? I had no idea it was that high. And figure I spent at least 15 hours painting. Well, there goes a couple days worth of calories.

Balance getting-the-house-ready and figuring-out-what-needs-done-so-we-can-move with trying-to-keep-things-relatively-normal-for-the-kids and you get stress. Lots of it. Which makes for quick, easy (ish....) weight loss. But I don't advise it either.

I came downstairs this morning to find that our dog had literally eaten my kid's homework. It was in the homework folder, inside the backpack, by the front door to grab on our way out the door. That means he managed to get the folder out and then proceeded to eat both. Hmm.... No one is up but me yet, but I'm pretty sure there is going to be an upset little kid when they come down and see this. The good news is that there are enough pieces that we can prove the homework was complete. The bad news is that, well, he ate it. Guess we're taking pieces in and I'm talking to the teacher this morning.

The culprit? Morgan, our puppy. Well, not so much a puppy anymore. He's a golden retriever and he's 14 months, which is golden land, means he's more like an older teenager. But he still gets in to mischief and has his moments of destruction. To date he's eaten multiple toys, stuffed animals, and at least 1 shoe from each family member to include my favorite flip flops! Bad dog. He gets destructive when he feels ignored. We have friends whose kids are terrified of dogs, so when they come over I put the dogs outside, and Morgan gets upset (because he's not part of everything. He's a golden- everyone is supposed to love him) and digs up the yard or eats the plants. I was cleaning and put him in a room- with a baby gate so he could see me- and he ate some craft that was left out on the table. Sigh. All we can do is wait until he gets a little older adn grows out of it. Supposedly golden's are adult dogs at 18 months, so only a couple more months.

Isn't this great? I'm so pleased how it turned out. It took me about 6* months to do. I plan on using it to hold my current crochet projects. Right now that's (still) the ornaments. I sent a couple of finished ones to my mom and she loved them, so I'm debating making a bunch to sell at the school craft fair to raise money for the PTO. Either that or abandon the ornaments (I have some for our family) and move on to a new project. I have a really cute pattern to make a Christmas Elf, but it's a bit too advanced for me and I'm not sure I have the patience to be frustrated with it right now. But check out this pattern. How cute is that?

http://www.allfreecrochet.com/Christmas-Crochet/Colorful-Christmas-Elf/ml/1

*I had to take 3 months off for the broken arm, then 1 month of procrastination before I got around to making a liner for it.

Got this e-mail from a friend. Just something to consider:

Blue Fridays.

Very soon, you will see a great many people wearing blue every Friday. The reason? Americans who support our troops used to be called the "silent majority." We are no longer silent, and are voicing our love for God, country and home in record breaking numbers. We are not organized, boisterous or overbearing.

Many Americans, like you, me and all our friends, simply want to recognize that the vast majority of America supports our troops. Our idea of showing solidarity and support for our troops with dignity and respect starts this Friday- and continues each and every Friday until the troops all come home, sending a deafening message that every red-blooded American who supports our men and women afar, will wear something blue. By word of mouth, press, TV- let's make the United States on every Friday a sea of blue much like a homecoming football game in the bleachers. If every one of us who loves this country will share this with acquaintances, coworkers, friends, and family, it will not be long before the USA is covered in BLUE and it will let our troops know that once the "silent" majority is on their side more than ever, certainly more than the media lets on. The first thing a soldiers says when asked "What can we do to make things better for you?" is "We need your support and your prayers." Let's get the word out and lead with class and dignity, by example, and wear something blue every Friday.

Tomorrow is the first day of school. Shool starts so early here! The only good thing about it starting the beginning of August is that the kids get out the Friday of Memorial Day weekend. But for that whole first month of school, it doesn't feel like it's really school time, if that makes sense. Especially since it's still so hot outside. Back to school is fall, not mid-summer.

About 5 years ago there was a Staples commercial where a dad was back-to-school shopping with his 2 kids and he was singing "It's the most wonderful time of the year." I never really got that until my kids started school. When they were younger, before they started school, I never really understood why friends with older kids were thankful when school started back up. Now that the kids are in school, I totally get it. By the end of summer I am worn out with summer vacation and ready to send them back. Not that they are ready to go, but I'm ready for school to start.

I'm a very focused, driven person. I will always reach my goal if it is at all possible, so I think really hard before making goals or decisions, because once they are made, I'm not going to change them and will do everything I can to reach that goal. Sometimes to my detriment. One of my New Year's Resolutions this year was to work out 260 days, which sounds like a lot, but really is only 5 days/week. I was doing great, but then I broke my elbow and that put a cramp in my style. It took me until the end of June to catch up (which entailed about 2 months of working out 6-7 days/week) and get back on track so I can make 260 this year.

About 6 weeks ago, in my quest to catch up on workouts, I pulled a muscle behind my knee. Or at least I think that's what I did. I'm hypersensitive about knees because I tore mine a couple years ago and had to have surgery. But did that stop me? Nope. I've continued to muddle through runs and not give it a chance to rest. I figured it wasn't a real injury, because it only hurt when running and then stopped hurting when I stopped running, and some days it didn't hurt at all. But then it started hurting sooner and sooner in the run, so I had to cut back to running once a week rather than 3 times.

And all that was well and good, until this morning. I ran for 45 minutes and it didn't bother me at all until about the last 5 minutes, so I was congratulating myself on it finally starting to heal, but then I got home and wouldn't you know it? It still hurts. Drat. So my question to you is this- do you baby yourself when you're injured or just push through? How much time do you take to recover and heal?I'm more of a push through person, which sometimes gets me in trouble (like the knee that still hurts 6 weeks later!) and never seem to give myself time to fully heal.

This is my current crochet project. I just finished making a really cute bag and have to line that, but first I have to get to the store to get some good, thick fabric. I'm thinking a canvas lining. Maybe I'll spray it with ScotchGuard so it's water resistant. Or maybe I can find some sailcloth. Hmmmm....

But in the meantime, here's what I'm working on. I have 3 done so far. If you're on my Christmas list, watch out- you'll most likely get one (or more) of these with your present this year.

In case you can crochet- or want to learn- here's where you get the pattern:

http://6ichthusfish.typepad.com/6ichthusfish/2009/11/free-crochet-pattern-for-christmas-tree-baubles.html

There's are great pictures and step by step instructions.

I just finished reading The Help. I saw it in the bookstore and it sounded interesting, then my neighbor loaned her copy to me. I feel like I'm jumping on the bandwagon because after I started reading it I found out that it's going to be a movie. The same with The Hunger Games. A friend recommended it, I finished it, then found out the movie comes out this fall. Although I'm not sure how they will make that one into a movie. Oh well- the book is always better.

So I finished this book, and all I can think is, "what would I have done?" It's set in the 60s, during the Civil Rights Movement, and I can't help but wonder if I would have been brave enough to stand up and say that it doesn't matter what color someone is, they should be treated equal. My mom was in college at this time and she said she went to protests and rallies in support of equal rights. Although she did go to college around Chicago, so it was more acceptable to do so than in the book, which was set in Mississippi. But what about living in the south at the time? Would you have gone against the flow or just accepted that that was the way things were?

I am a freak of nature. It's true. Everyone has weird little quirks, and in some ways I seem to go against what is normal. For example- when I was in college and then my early 20s, my resting pulse was over 100, despite being in really good shape. To make a long story short, I ended up at a cardiologist and after many tests he determine that I actually have 2 heartbeats. Strange, I know. You'd think it would make me awesome (which I am, but for different reasons).

Now, most poeple who are freaks of nature by definition are your professional athletes because their bodies just don't work the way "normal" people's should Anyone ever see that show Superhumans? It was only on for a year (I think) on the Discovery channel or TLC or something like that, and the host went around the world interviewing and testing people who weren't normal. The guy with the extra-thick skull, the ultramarathoner whose body just doesn't produce lactic acid in his musles so he can run forever, and others like that. I loved that show. Unfortunately, my wackiness doesn't make me a super athlete. Rats. Anyone else out there a freak?

One of the blogs I follow (http://www.shutupandrun.net/ Check is out- it's awesome!) challenged everyone to do a post about all those little things you do all day. So here is my day for yesterday, July 14th- our 11th Anniversary. Keep that in mind as you peruse.

5:10-Stumble out of bed. Put on running clothes. Run. One of the things I love about running is that I can do it from my house. Just walk about the door and start.

7:30- Eat breakfast. Cheerios. Yummy. Not really- I don't like them, but I eat them because they are good for me.
8:00- Make dinner. Yep- I'm proactive like that. Nothing fancy, just beef stew in the crock pot so it's ready when we are tonight.

8:30- Get kids ready for swim lessons. It's the last one of the session. Yea! Not that I don't like sitting around watching them try not to drown...

9:30- Head to the school to pick up some stuff for tonight's meeting, then off to the library to drop off books and pick up the ones I had on hold, finally it's off to the bike shop to pick up my new bike helmet! I waited until I felt ready to bike again before getting a new helmet (smacked my head when I crashed and broke my arm) and since I have a tiny head, they had to special order one and now it's in. Isn't it beautiful?

11:00- Lunch with friends. Unfortunately, our 7 combined kids (ages 3 to 16) love McDonalds, and it's about the only place they can all agree on, so guess where we ended up? That's right- the land of processed food. But we did get to see THE Ronald McDonald. The kids (all of them!) were thrilled. And that place does have its benefits- the kids can entertain each other and we can catch up because I haven't seen her for a couple months.


1:00- Home and time for a Mommy-required nap/rest time. Really- go in your rooms and I don't want to hear you until at least 3. Ahhhhh.......silence.....during which I'll organize (ok, purge) all my stuff to turn over tomorrow to the person who is taking over my job. When did I accumulate so much crap?!

4:45- A snack on the way out the door to the School Board meeting (I'm on the board) because I won't get dinner until around 8 tonight, whereas my family can eat at 6. Hence the crock pot.

5:00- School Board Meeting. Just like every other school board meeting across the country- not enough money, angry people, everyone else can do a better job... all around good time.

8:00- Dinner. And champagne. Necessary after that meeting. It would be wine, but it's our anniversary.

Every see a picture of yourself or catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and think "Woah. That's what I look like?" No? Just me? You get this idea in your head about how you look, eventhough you (I) look in the mirror every day to make sure my clothes are on right and look somewhat decent together. But somehow you still don't see yourself clearly.

2 examples. 1) I was watching What Not To Wear a few years ago and there was woman on it who had lost something like 50 pounds and couldn't figure out what size to try on. Stacy and Clinton had this giant piece of paper and made her draw an outline of herself. When she was done they stepped back and she's added about 6 inches to her width. 2) I had a good friend in college with a serious eating disorder. So serious she got kicked out of school and forced into rehab because she was, literally, killing herself. At the time she left she had 3% body fat (women shouldn't have below 12%). Her bones stuck out- you could see every rib, every vertabrae, you could even see the outline of her pelvis. And yet she still thought she was fat and needed to lose more weight. Studies routinely show that people with eating disorders look in the mirror and see someone bigger than they really are, which feeds into the needing to loose weight thoughts, which spurs on the eating disorders.

Without going on, I think that shows we don't really see ourselves the way we really are and that we are harder on ourselves than need be. But why is that? Can't we all just be happy with the body that we have? Thankful that it (usually) gets us where we are going and lets us (usually) do what we want/need to do? Why, as women, can't we stop striving for the impossible and unattainable and be satisfied with how we are? Think of all the money we'd save on gyms, clothes, diet food, etc. That alone might get us out of the recession.

I recently took the kids and flew cross country to visit the grandparents. Yep- both sets live in the same town. Convenient, isn't it? Anyhow, my hubby flew out and joined us for the last couple days. I think I've mentioned before, but my parents have lived in this town my entire life- they've even still live in the same house I grew up in. My in-laws moved there around 1989 and still live there, in the same house. The town is small- about 60,000- and growing up there, I got to know a large chunk of the population.

Going back there is... intesting. Many of hte people I grew up with went to college (or not), got married, and moved back there. This seems foreign to me, because I was pretty happy to leave and have no desire to live there. I ran into an old friend of mine while I was there, and it's wierd having a conversation as an adult with someone who has known me since I was born. Anyone else every feel that way when they return to their hometown? There's a great song that sums it up. It's by Cross Canadian Ragweed and it's called "17."

Check them out:

www.myspace.com/crosscanadianragweed

Here's a few snippets of the lyrics:

"You're always 17 in your hometown."
"Running from your folks, running from the law. Running from a love, running for your fears, running from it all."
"I bet she doesn't even remember my name. Just like she didn't back then."

Happy 4th of July!

-George

I went swimming this morning for the first time since I broke my elbow. I felt so sluggish, so when I got back home I counted the weeks and it had been 16 weeks (exactly) since I last swam. No wonder I was so slow. I only did 1200 yards. I've mentioned before that I was a swimmer growing up, so doing that little is like asking a golfer to play 2 holes or a marathon runner to run a 5K. It wasn't much. But let me tell you- it totally kicked my butt and I've been tired all day. But the good news is that I didn't drown, which is always a plus. Even with 2 lifeguards there, I doubt they are up for rescuing someone at 5:30 in the morning.

I was driving home from a friend's house last night at about 9:30 and it was pitch black. She lives out in the country, so there are no ambient light or street lights, just the moon and stars. Oh yeah- and the glow of wildfires burning in the area. Ok. So it's dark. I drove past this house that was all lit up with rope lights on the porch. It looked really pretty and made the house look nice. But the thing is, I've noticed this house before because of it's huge front porch and, in the light, the house is not that nice. It's a little rundown, there's trash in the yard, the driveway is all dirt.

I had a a half hour drive to get back home, so my mind starting wandering and the aforementioned house got me thinking about how much better things look in the dark. People. Clothes. Makeup. If that's the case, why aren't dressing rooms darker? I've also read that you'll eat more when it's dark, which is why many restaurants have dim lighting.

So if everything is better in the dark, why does everyone push for daylight savings? Shouldn't we just embrace the extra hour of night and think "for this 6 months, I'm going to look better and so is my house?" Maybe I need to change all the lightbulbs in the house to 40W or just not replace them when they burn out. (Yes, I know, regular lightbulbs are terrible and we shouldn't use them. Sorry, I'm not replacing them with CFLs until they burn out, so deal with it.)

You've heard of "the dog ate my homework," right? Well, in this case, the dog ate my shoes. And they are (were!) my favorite flip flops.

I keep forgetting that Morgan is a puppy because he's so big. He has a shoe fetish- it's the 3rd pair of shoes he's destroyed since we got him. Sigh. It was hard to throw these away.

Your smile for the day:

The hummingbird nest in one of our trees.

Took the kids miniture golfing and one of them decided that this was a home for orphan princesses. Where do kids come up with that stuff?

We have a couple windows in our shower. The bottom of them are 5ft. high, so no one can see anything. Two of the windows look out over the front of our house. One looks out over the neighbor's roof, and it's the one you face when you are standing under the water.


And guess what happened? I totally flashed the DirectTV guy. Our neighbor just moved in and it was a Saturday morning. I was in the shower and the DirectTV guy was up on the neighbor's roof. Oops. I figure that if I saw him, then he probably saw me. When I told my husband he just laughed.

In the spirit of sugar-free, here's what I've eaten in the past 2 days.

June 1:
Breakfast- minibagel with natural peanut butter, black coffee
Lunch- Italian chicken sandwich (Ciabatta bread, grilled chicken fingers, basil, roasted red peppers, mayonaise. Leftovers, not from a restaurant), watermelon, low-fat string cheese, water
Snack- apple, water
Dinner- whole wheat spagetti with spagetti sauce (from a jar), mixed green salad, 1% milk

June 2:
Breakfast- Cheerios, 1% milk, black coffee
Lunch- veggie pasta, low-fat string cheese, watermelon, bagel chips, water
Snack- apple, tortilla with natural peanut butter, water
Dinner- Beef stew (beef, carrots, potatoes, celery, onion, various spices), red wine

I know, I know- there's sugar in wine. Sorry, I'm not giving that one up. And yes, I need to eat more veggies.

I'm participating in the Sugar-Free 10 day challenge, which starts on June 1. For more information see here:

http://www.runtothefinish.com/

I've mentioned before that I went sugar-free for Lent one year. The thing is, once you go sugar free it's hard to go back to eating sugar. It takes a month to rid your body of bad stuff (like sugar), so this 10-day challenge isn't really enough to fully detox you, but it's a start. Suprisingly, the craving go away once you stop eating it for awhile, and I can no longer eat sugar without getting sick. It stinks somtimes, but in the end, it's way healthier and better for me.

We are the desired home for strange animals. I swear- none of our pets are normal.

Exhibit A- a snail. (Pretend there's a picture. I swear we have one, I just can't find it).

Ok. So Mr. Snail was suicidal. It's dead now- no suprise there. It liked to climb out of the fish tank and make a run for it. We found him 3 feet out of the tank one morning. It must have taken the poor thing all night to get that far.

Exhibit B: Wendell (8 years)

Wendell, our black lab is possibly the most un-lablike dog out there. Seriously. He's a retriever, but hates to fetch or play ball. He's big and black so he appears mean, but he's scared of everyone. After we got him, at 10 weeks, it took him, literally, a month to have the courage to walk down the sidewalk and 3 houses to the mailbox. We had friends come over, whom he knew, when we weren't home and he ran and hid and barked at them from under the bed. He's also anti-social. He thinks if he's in the same room as you that's good enough. And until he was 4, he was scared of the water. He's a Labrador Retriever- a water breed. Sheesh.

Exhibit C: Morgan (11 months)

Morgan is our new puppy that we got about 2 months ago. He's a Golden, so he thinks everyone is his friend and wants to play with him. And he chews on his feet- we took him to the vet who said he either has OCD (very possible) or he has allergies. And he chases his tail. I always thought that was a myth- dogs chasing their tail. But not Morgan- he does it for 5-10 minutes at a time, then bites tail when he catches it, yelps, then starts all over again. But what makes him strange is that he loves to watch TV. I swear- he'll sit perfectly still and watch it with us when it's on. He went to the kennel last weekend when we were camping (we take Wendell camping with us) and they said he's the friendliest Golden they've had. So he's not even normal in those regards.

We went camping last weekend. This is the picture that greeted us:

And of course, when one of the kids woke up at midnight and wanted to use the bathroom, it's all I could think of as we made our way down the hill in the dark with only my flashlight to protect us.

We all had fun. It's a great campground on top of a mountain. Each campsite has its own picnic table, bear box for food, grill, fire pit (which we couldn't use, due to the no-campfire restriction), and 2 tent pads and each cluster of sites has it's own toilet. So as far as campgrounds go, it's pretty nice. We went out wandering around the campground and the kids found a forest of baby pine trees, which they thought was really cool. I'm not a tree expert, but I'd say these are about 3-5 years old.

The best part is that there's a fishing lake too! No boats or swimming, but that doesn't stop our dog from hopping in. We've never caught anything, but that's mainly because of 1) our dog, and 2) the kids would rather throw rocks in the lake than fish.

After packing up and coming down off the mountain, we ended up at In and Out Burger- my husband's favorite burger place.

I spent a large chunk of last weekend rearranging rooms. Some people spring clean, I spring arrange. There isn't a single room in the house that hasn't been rearranged at least once since we moved in, most 2 or 3 times. Not just because our needs have changed, but because I was tired of the rooms. Well, I suppose the bathrooms haven't changed. I'm not much of a plumber, so those sinks are going to stay where they are. Although I would like a bathtub in the master bath. Who designs a master bath without a bathtub?

Anyhow, I digress. We've now lived here for 5 years- it's the longest I've lived anywhere since graduating from high school. My parents moved into their house when I was a few months old and I lived there until I went off to college. Is that strange? I didn't think it was that wierd- I went to school with mostly the same kids from 2nd through 12th grades and few of them moved. But then in college I discovered that living in the same house your whole life is strange. Even stranger I suppose is that my folks still live there. I can't imagine that. I'm ready to move on from here and start somewhere else. It's that nomadic heritage human's have I guess. So it's a poll- what's the longest you've lived anywhere?

I want to go back to a time when life was simpler, more uncomplicated. Back before kids and pets. Back when the only other person I had to worry about was my husband, and our biggest decisions were what car to buy or whether or not to go on vacation. Maybe something a little bigger, like whether or not to take that new job. But really, why didn't I appreciate it back then? It sometimes really sucks to be an adult and have to be responsible. Where can I get one of those boring lives with few complications and no real problems?

-M

I got some disappointing news the other day. I went to the doctor for a follow up because it's been 8 weeks since I broke my elbow. Based on my age (adult) and where the elbow was broken (on the inside of the joint), my arm will never function properly again. And physical therapy to try and make it work would only hurt me more than help me. Sucks, huh? It will only ever straighten to between 25-30 degrees, and the doctor tried to cheer me up saying "hey, how much do you really do with a straight arm anyway?" That's supposed to make me feel better?

I tore the cartiledge in my knee 2 years ago and had to have a scope. Doctor said I'd be running in 6 weeks. It took me 3 months. And now I can't run more than 5 miles before it hurts too much. I've had to let go my goal of someday running a marathon and have set a goal of a half marathon, with much walking and some running. (I'm not giving that one up just yet!)

So the lesson learned here is that 1) don't get old, and 2) when you do get old, don't hurt yourself because you just won't heal the way you should.

I was at a coffee shop this morning and there were 2 men at the table next to me having the Mac vs. PC debate. What made it so cute is that they were both in their 70s. Then, as I was leaving, this older, 70-something woman walked by talking on her cell phone. I don't know why, but I think it's so neat when I see older generations embracing current technology. Granted, not everyone has kept up with current trends. Whenever I visit my parents I'm always amazed that not only do they not have cell phones (we don't even have a landline anymore- cell only here), but they still use dial-up internet service. But I love seeing those older folks using their cell phones and being on Facebook.

Close your eyes for a minute and imagine technology as it was when you were a kid. Not much there, right? I remember getting our first VCR, the Atari, an Apple IIe computer... these things were awesome way back when. My uncle worked on a superfast computer back in the 70s, when computers were first starting to be used more, and now my cell phone has more computing capability than his entire supercomputer. I can't even imagine what technology will be like when I'm old, but I'm hoping it doesn't pass me by and I'm not stuck using rolls of film when the world has moved on to digital. Isn't that why we have kids though? To keep us up with the current technologies?

Got this from a friend. I think it's outstanding.

You always know pregnant people and I have a few friends pregnant right now. But this time it's really strange. I know seven- count them, 7- people who are pregnant right now and all of them are due this summer. What was going on 7-8 months ago? That would make it October. Huh. Anyhow, even stranger, every one of them is having a boy. What are the odds? I read somewhere once that out of 100 births, there are 55 girls born to every 45 boys. Maybe boys are making a comeback.

One of those pregnant people is a really good friend from college and I'm making a blanket for her. I was holding out until I knew the sex of the baby, so fortunately for me, the kid cooperated at her ultrasound. I promised (threatened) pictures of my projects, so here's what I have so far. I fully admit, I stole the idea of mixing 2 different colors (blue and white in this case) from a friend, and I think it's turning out pretty well. And, I still have 2 months to finish it. Yea me.

One of my kids is really into princesses. She has loved them since she was 3, and we own a ton of princess things. You'd be surprised how much princess gear there is out there. Besides the obvious (dress ups and clothes), we have nail polish, hair stuff, shoes, sheets, etc. You name it, we probably have it. We even "met" and had lunch with the Disney princesses last time we went to Disneyland, so in her mind that makes them real people.

So, needless to say, she is ecstatic over the British Royal wedding on Friday. Living out West, it will come on at 3:30 AM our time, and she somehow managed to convince her dad that she can get up to watch it (I made him agree to get up with her). Princess Catherine is all she's been talking about for the last week or so. I blame myself, because I'm the one who told her about the wedding and that the person would become a real princess after she married a prince. She thinks this is about the coolest thing ever and says that her new goal in life is to grow up and be a princess. We need to work on that one. Anyhow, she asked me the cutest thing the other day- she asked if Princess Kate was going to hang out with Cinderella and Snow White and all the other princesses. I didn't have a heart to mention that those are fake princesses.

Happy Easter! As always, it's cold here on Easter. We've lived here almost 6 years, and no matter how warm it's been (mid-80s last week), it is always cold for Easter. Maybe it's to make us sympathetic for all those northerners that still have snow. At any rate, it didn't stop the kids from running around outside looking for eggs. They refused to believe there were more eggs and kept looking. It also didn't stop the sun from melting the chocolate inside said eggs...

Along with this chilly day we have wind. Spring out here means wind, and lots of it. It's nothing to have 25 MPH winds. We routinely have gusts that are tropical storm force or higher- the highest at our house so far is 72 MPH last spring. When it gets that windy everyone gets cranky, including the dogs. They refuse to go outside and the older one likes to hide from the wind, which gets really interesting when they haven't been out all day. When the oldest kid was younger it was cold and windy and I was tired of waiting for them to hop in their carseat, so I said the wind would blow them away if they didn't get in the car RIGHT NOW and, suprisingly, they not only believed it, but to this day they are still wary of windy days. Man kids are gullible.

One of my best friend's dad died this past weekend of a massive heart attack. He was young and it was sudden. About 2 months ago another friend lost her father-in-law. That makes me wonder- are we really old enough to start losing our parents? Most of my friends' (and my) parents are in their 60s. That's too young, right? Living out West, 60 is not old. People out here are still active well into their early 80s. There's a 70-something year old in my yoga class that routinely kicks my butt. My 54 year old neighbor still competes in all the 100+ mile bike races. What's that old saying, "age is just a number." It's all how you feel and how you act. But back to losing our parents. I remember my grandparents- one died while I was young, then the rest in high school or college. Is that a dying trend, with people having kids later in life? And if we're old enough to lose parents, does that mean we are middle aged or just "real" adults now?

I was in the grocery store parking lot last Saturday afternoon at 5, listening to the kids argue about what movie they wanted to watch that night and thinking about how I needed to get home and make dinner so we could eat on time. I watched two young women walk out of the store, carrying their coffees (our grocery has a Starbucks inside), and chatting away. I imagined they were discussing their plans for the evening and I realized that I couldn't remember what my husband and I did on Saturday nights before we had kids. Sad, right? I tried to think about how different my Saturday would have been if there were no kids in the picture- what we'd do all day and, more importantly, how late we'd sleep in. Isn't there a country song to that effect? Anyhow, it's not that I wish we didn't have the kids, but more of just wondering what life would be like without them. I wonder how many other people feel the same way. Remember way back when, before kids were in the picture, and you (ok, I!) naively thought things wouldn't really change once there were kids? I'd just have this cute little kid to tote around with me, who would automatically eat when we did and be content to follow us around all day doing what we wanted to do. Of course then you have a kid and realize this isn't the case. Maybe when they get a bit older they'll be happy to do that. Or, eventually, we can just leave them home or they'll be off doing their own thing. Is it too early to plan for an empty nest?

A friend of mine just turned 30 and listed 40 things she wanted to do before turning 40. Figure she has 10 years, so that's 4 a year, and I have less years than that, so I should take 4 per year and multiply that by..... you get the idea. I think 40 is a bit ambitious (things, not years), so I can probably come up with 10. The last list I did had "learn to knit" and "take up biking" on it, both of which I did. Unfortunatley, I'm not that coordinated so getting both hands working, at the same time, to knit was hard and I've since learned to crochet. Much easier. And faster. Anyhow, here's the start of my list. Some are easier than others and probably can get done in the next year, others will take a little longer. I reserve the right to edit/change/delete items in the future. Hey, it's my list.

1. Do a triathlon


2. Run a half-marathon


3. Start a new job


4. Resurrect our Crochet and Coffee group and keep it going for more than 2 months


5. Move to a new town

Here's a lovely picture of my gimpy arm. Isn't it great? I'm a firm believer in everything happens for a reason. Maybe the lesson learned here is not to procrastinate. There are lots of things that need done that I'd planned to do, but now can't. From the little (I was going to vacuum the house after my bike ride) to the bigger things (I was going to do touch-up paint on the walls this past weekend). Do it now, quit putting things off just because they might be unpleasant. And never, ever, take your health for granted.

Looks like I'm giving up exercise for Lent this year. I fell biking this morning and broke my elbow. Ouch. See the arrow? That piece of bone is supposed to be attached. So, tomorrow I will have surgery to put it back in the right spot and screw it in place. Good times. I think this goes to prove that exercise really IS hazardous to your health.

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, which is the start of Lent. I'm not Catholic, but I appreciate the symbolism of giving something up for 6 weeks, so every year I try to give something up for Lent. I'm currently debating this year's item. I thought about wine, but figured that was too risky. See, a couple years ago I gave up sugar and then, once Easter came, I found that I could no longer eat sugar. And now, 2 years later, I still can't. I don't really miss it, but every now and then I crave a candy bar, or a piece of cake, but I can't eat it because it makes me sick. It's not really a food allergy, I don't get hives or anything. It's more like when someone who is lactose intollerant drinks a glass of milk. Hence, I've stopped eating sugar. Of course it's unavoidable (even Cheerios has sugar in them!), but I limit it as much as possible. Sadly, no more cake or candy or pastries for me. On the plus side, I'm healthier than I used to be and have more energy, and as an added bonus I've dropped 3% body fat just by nixing sugar.

But I digress. I'm still looking for what to give up for Lent. Coffee? Wine? Suggestions?

I'm back, after a long hiatus. Things got crazy busy, and something had to give, so this was it (among other things). Do you ever find that life's like that sometimes? Just when you think you have it all figured out and you're going along all happy and organized, WHAM! Out of the blue you're thrown for a loop. Once the dust settles, things aren't always the same. But that isn't always bad. I find that the older I get, the less open I am to change. I like my steady, reliable old life. I like knowing that on Thursday nights I have yoga, and on Sunday mornings we will have pancakes for breakfast. But things need shaken up every now and then or life gets stale. And really, how can you complain about how much better things used to be unless there are changes?