A day off.

January 23, 2009, 08:18:29 AM
Well, seems Soph has caught a bit of a stomach virus that has been going around.  So she’s off school, and I’m off work.  Called in some vac. time, staying home to coddle the little one.  Actually looking forward to it.  She’s surely sick, but the kid always has such a positive attitude, such a trooper….. puke, wipe mouth, and smile and start babbling, immediately after…… slight fever, too.  It amazes me the way she still sees the best in the situation, when most adults, if as sick as her, would be lying in bed whining like invalids.  I guess the cartoons and day off balance it out, in her mind…….
Those of you who are parents know this routine, buckets strategically placed throughout the home, from where she sits, to the bathroom.  Sort of a barfing path / walk.
I guess we just make the best of it we can.  Makes no sense to worry over that which we cannot change.
 
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Looking ahead. And liking the future again.

November 23, 2008, 11:18:20 PM
Christmas is but a month away.  Of course, money is short, and new surprise expenses seem to pop out of the woodwork to compound things.  So why am I not concerned, and upset at this?I guess I’m used to living frugally.  I know that I’ll have the $10 to pay for the Christmas tree that Sophia and I will soon march off into the woods at a tree farm to cut by ourselves – a tradition for us.  And I know the bills are paid, and we’ll be eating.Even if the items under the tree aren’t plentiful this year, we surely will have a peaceful and quiet holiday, devoid of drama and nonsense.Last year, I themed the tree as “the great depression”………. candy canes, glitter covered pine cones, bows and ribbons.  And a 1930’s toy tin train that I had found at an auction running under the tree.I guess my theme was a year ahead of schedule, eh?Just the same, I anticipate the holidays this year as much or more than in years past.  I look forward to the “old fashioned” type of celebrating family, people, peace and contentment.  Safety.  Security.  And a few very well thought out gifts.

And no drama. toothy10

There is nothing quite like the experience of a child excitedly waking you up way too early, to tune you in to the fact that “Santa came last night!!!“, nevermind that it is 5:00 AM and you would be extremely miffed at being woke at such an infenal hour the other 364 days of the year.  On this day, it’s such a good feeling to bask in the joys of childhood.  Even if it’s from the creaking, graying adult side of things.  It’s still a childhood thing that comes back to us in the presence of little ones on Christmas day.

Al

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Over-responsibility(uber-responsibility?)

  November 02, 2008, 11:57:15 PM
Blueberry Huntin'I really enjoy bicycling.  It’s an odd thing.  Not to be competitive, as in racing, but to just ride.  Whether wandering the trails in the woods or cruising local roads, gazing at the sights, it’s something I just love to do.  Something I loved to do in my teens, before I discovered my other passions, cars and girls.  But that’s another story.  
I’m surely of the explorer mentality.  I’ve not bought a new bicycle since, oh, 1984 or thereabouts.  That particular twenty-four year old example hangs very well time worn, in my basement.  The last few mountain bikes have been yard sale finds, patch em’ up and ride em’ type deals.  I’ve spent some time the last two years stopping at bike shops for parts, and to gawk at the bikes.  I’ve wanted a new road bike for some time.  But the prices, holy monkey butts, about $700 for a “decent starter bike”Huh??  Yipe!  Oh no, no money for that.  I recently saw a sweet one, and inquired at my credit union about possibly getting a loan.“A loan for a bicycle!”  I heard the loan officer chortle, in my imagination.  “If you need a loan for a two-wheeler get a paper route, or cut lawns, like the other kids do!”Despite such ramblings within my psyche, I gathered up the nerve to ask when I was there one day.  She looked briefly at a file on me…… (Holy shit, they have a file on me!  Is this the CIA?), and made a waving motion with her hand as she said, “No problem.  You’ve got very good credit.”Huh?  Good credit?  Whendaheck did that happen, I thought………I then asked what the payment would be per week, on this imaginary 2 wheeler we were speaking of?About 20 bucks a week.  Shit.  Why did I wait this long?  Why did I fondle so many, gaze longingly at them at shops, rather than stepping up to the plate?

Before the ex came along, before Sophia came along,  it was all about me, all about my wants.  Since then, I had made a 180 degree turn to super – over – responsible.

And still, I feel uneasy and guilty about buying something I want, something I would cherish and enjoy greatly.  I seriously doubt $20 a week will break me.

Geez.  What happened to my old carefree irresponsible behavior?  It didn’t make my head hurt quite so bad.
 toothy3

 
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A lack of drama.

 
November 02, 2008, 11:33:09 PMIt sometimes, to me, seems almost boring without drama and turmoil, things I dealt with on a daily basis in the past.
In a recent phone conversation with Chris, I remarked how there was very little in exciting news to report, for the most part, nothing new was going on………
“Yes, isn’t that great!” she remarked.  “So peaceful, so tranquil”……….Hmmm.  Perhaps I’d gotten so used to turmoil in my life that it causes me to be a bit uneasy when there is none.  Perhaps I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, when there is none?No drama is a sweet thing.  Apparently it takes some time to get used to, though.  I often feel guilty about doing something non – productive, such as loafing about the house in an old favorite silk robe, as I am now.  So many things I should be doing, ya know.  I need to remind myself that enjoying some peace and tranquility is not loafing, sometimes……
actually healing one’s spirit or soul is productive work in the end.  I’m beginning to think that life is not all about worry, work, rushing from one appointment to the next, but all about the bits of time we manage to save to coddle, comfort ourselves, our happiness, enjoy our loved ones.
Very un-modern thinking, but I think I’m onto something.  Maybe I need to mark down a “date” with myself on the calendar, schedule some “nothing” time every week.
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A bike ride.

 
 September 23, 2007, 03:01:46 PM »
 

My mom took Soph to church today, so, after popping some clothes in / out of the wash, firing up the dryer, I decided to treat myself to another bike ride.  I took the mountain bike out, rode it down the front steps to the sidewalk.  Glanced at my $7 watch (never did get a new one)…… 1:30 p.m.  I started pedaling up the street, uphill, to the first right turn. Still going easy, just warming up…. take the right and begin to pedal harder.  Legs are beginning to protest, as if saying “what the hell is this??”…. Up a few streets, past the last house, the one with all the goofy yard decorations, including a full size native american on a full size horse?Huh? looks to be bronze??? down to the end of the road, onto the trail into the woods.  Instantly the bright sun disappears, and I am on an old logging road, zigging back and forth around washouts.  The bright sky is replaced by the canopy of trees, and patches of sun that manage to filter through dappling the ground. Up the long slight incline to the section where kids have built a freestyle bmx park, with probably 30 to 50 huge clay ramps. I go left up a steeper incline, bypass the park…. I do realize my jumping days are long behind me…crank across to the next gravel logging road….. legs seem to have woke up now.  I take the right and begin to upshift and put the power down.  Up out of the saddle, the legs feel warmed up.  Dodge right around a puddle on the path.  A squirrel runs across the path ahead, never hearing my approach until I am just about on him. A few hundred yards on the path comes to a fork, I sweep left and burst out of the woods into a cleared meadow, to the right a marsh full of cattails.  Again I’m out of the  saddle, letting the bike float and soak up the bumps, going downhill. I notice that the wind feels funny going through my hair- or new lack of it.  Even at speed I notice a yellow butterfly (moth?) cross the path in front of me, then a big grasshopper alights just in front of me.  The path now veers hard left and downward, steep….. I think to myself that I will be paying for this downhill on the return trip.  Hard on the brakes, down to lower gears, I roll down the turn over loose rocks.  into a field, freshly mowed.  Houses a hundred yards away, back to civilization.  I turn around and climb back to the meadow, no interest in seeing houses.  Back through the meadow, up to the fork in the path, swinging left this time to a climb I made yesterday, the one that looked so impossible.  The path is a huge rock, with no soil and with loose baseball sized rocks strewn about.  Heck, made it yesterday.  I gather speed then downshift at the last second, and again rise out of the saddle.  Shifting my weight, forward, left, back, whatever it takes to keep the traction on that back tire.  Make it to a few yards short of the 100 foot climb and the legs just quit on me.  Drop off the pedals and push the last few yards.  Shit.  Made it yesterday.  Oh well.  I notice one of those brown and black wooly-bear caterpillars on the path, the ones that are supposed to forcast next winter by the size of their stripe. Except this one is all brown, no stripe? 
I take a few moments to wait for my breathing/ gasping to subside (man gotta lose dem cancer sticks for sure) and climb back on and begin to pedal to keep the lactic acid in my legs from going into cramp mode.  Gradually up the gears on the back chainring to top, and back to business.  Down the gravel logging road, past an old man out for a walk, then hard on the brakes and downshifting to take the left to the bmx area.  Zig around the jumps, and take the right, back onto the sun-dappled washout road.  Out of the saddle again, into top gear on the rear chainrings, down to the end of the path to the pavement. back into the sunlight, passing the house with the perfectly manincured lawn an crazy-ass lawn ornaments (does he really need a half size cast iron cannon in his front yard? What the hell?)
Now really accellerating through the front chainrings (gee, sure am thirsty) up to top gear.  A girl in a car pulls out of a sidestreet, never sees me, as, she never friggen’ looked in the first place.  She slams on the brakes when halfway in the road and strangely, I fell no impulse at all to flip her the bird.  I dart around to the left and then take the next left down the paved alleyway, downwill, top gear, cranking as fast as I can.  Hard on the brakes at the bottom, downshift, take a right and go down two streets to the paved alleyway behind my house.  The odd neighbor a few houses down is out working on his psycadellic camoflage speedboat on the trailer, I wave then a few houses later take the left into my backyard, rolling between the pickup truck and bus, down through the back yard to the front yard.  I glance at my watch, it’s 1:48pm.  Holy crap.  18 minutes?  It sure felt like longer!  I ride a little more up and down the street to let the legs cool off to prevent cramps, thinking to myself, what was my excuse, all these years?  I couldn’t find 18 minutes a day, a week, a month, to go out and experience such joy?
Now I feel the sweat come, and I feel absolutely parched.  Into the house for a few glasses of water, and back to the laundry. 
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