Saturday, December 31, 2011
We got Home from our Second Home on Thursday and invited some friends over for dinner. We had a couple of cocktails and ordered in dinner. Opened a bottle of wine and listened to Mr. Friend tell us he had a flight the next day to Palm Springs. (Mr. Friend is pilot.)
We all looked at Mrs. Friend and said, "You should go too. For New Years." That was quickly amended to, "We should all go to Palm Springs."
By midnight, we had tickets to Palm Springs.
The task for today is to figure out how to get back home.
Friday, December 30, 2011
I contend that jeans are not constant. As evidence, I give you this from 1983:
These jeans actually cover this woman's posterior. My jeans would not. Not, especially, if she were to sit down. And, I paid MORE for LESS (which follows the bathing suit rule of fashion, when I come to think about it).
But who really wants to see my rear end? Okay, let me rephrase because I can already hear you yahoos making noise. Is it really necessary that I should look like a plumber every time I bend over? Keep in mind the middle of a middle-aged woman is intended to be hidden from view. What are love handles to one are muffin tops to someone else. What's cute on a young woman is, frankly, not as interesting when skin has lost its elasticity. Need I say more? No, I thought not.
I love my jeans. Don't get me wrong. They look great with a crisp white shirt and a pair of stilettos. As long as I don't move. As long as my white shirt is long enough to reach or even - is it too much to hope? - fall below the waist band. (Oh, but that is a different diatribe.)
What is a woman to do these days? Suffer through it, as far as I can tell. Suffer as women always have with fashion. And so you will find me endlessly hiking up my pants to try to maintain a sense of decorum because actual dignity is out of the question.
Maybe I should buy a skirt.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
And speaking of which, I bought a second black purse yesterday. Exactly like the one I bought two days ago. So now I have two friggin' black purses that I don't need and I haven't even decided that I want. (What's wrong with me?) BUT, there's a very good reason for that: I saved a whopping $14 on the second unnecessary black purse, so there. It means I have to return the first unnecessary black purse but that was worth $14, right? Just doing my job. (And, yes, the Kindle fits in there, no problem.)
Of course, I found a nice black coat (that goes nicely with my black purses, btw) at the second store. So I got that, too. Needed it, yep. So, there's that. But, I've got to hurry up and get out of this town before I buy anything else.
Better finish up this pie and get a move on. Wait, there's pizza in the fridge too....
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Eighty-three percent of Americans rate rainy days and nights as the best time to have sex.
It's High Time for Conception: Studies Show Peak Times, Weather for SexWell, yeah—because what else is there to do when you can’t play golf or drive with the top down?
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Is it me or have jeans gotten tighter since then? Plus, the stuff required to get through the day has expanded. For example, when I wasn't carrying a purse, cell phones hadn't even been invented and now I can't live without one. Car keys looked like keys back then. Now, they look like Oreo cookies or something. Larger, needless to say. I have two house keys, two car keys, keys for the office, keys to my mom's place (3), a bicycle lock key, and two storage locker keys. Those won't all fit in my pocket. I have prescription sunglasses. I suppose I could wear them on a chain around my neck in case the sun comes out but ...
Oh, what the heck. I need a purse. But how many purses does one need? Further, how many black purses does one need? Specifically, do I really need the black purse that I bought today? One that is more expensive than any other purse I've ever purchased? Do I really need that?
I was going to take pictures of all my black purses so you could vote or give me counsel. I have three with me right now and at least two more at my other house. However, I realized rather quickly that the arguments for and against would fall along gender lines with the women saying, "You can always use another black purse" and the men asking, "What's the difference between one black purse and another?" I fully understand what the men are asking. It is, in fact, my quandary. At the same time, this gender will also ask, "How many black shoes does a woman really need?" which, in mind, disqualifies the entire gender from entering into the conversation on black purses.
I also bought a wallet. I can't remember the last time I carried a wallet. (What's gotten into me?) It's black, if you must know, and could double as a clutch so technically, that's another black purse. My current wallet is a rubber band. A real wallet just adds needless weight to an already heavier than necessary satchel. But I bought it anyway.
I'll go ahead and put my money in my wallet and then put the wallet in my purse and then go to the store. Try it all on for size, as it were. And see if there's anything else I really need.
Monday, December 26, 2011
What if fill-in-the-blank doesn't get done? Are there any real consequences? Another question to ask is, could s/he have said it differently? As in, what was the proper thing to say/ask? If there is no real answer to that question, the problem lies with with the offended party and the matter qualifies as "small."
What happens when something really BIG comes along? That's a different story. It should be dealt with appropriately, whatever that is. But if one has practiced letting the little stuff go, the bigger stuff filters down to take its place on the priority list, effectively becoming smaller.
The REALLY BIG stuff sucks. There's no way around it. But what if we think of the REALLY BIG stuff as equally good, as bad? Then REALLY (bad) BIG stuff deserves no more attention than REALLY (good) BIG stuff like family, health, love and kindness, and all that.
Okay, I realize that may have come off as cynical, that last sentence. But that's small stuff. Let it go.
Life is good and I realize that's not always easy to hear. And, I realize that's not True for a lot of people. For a lot of people, life is packed with REALLY (bad) BIG stuff and I have nothing to say that will placate those people. In fact, whatever makes me feel better about my life, day, obligations - whatever - won't mean spit to someone who's REALLY down and out. When I think about it, it makes all that I've just written seem pretty trite.
Which makes all of my/your garbage really, really small stuff.
I hope you didn't sweat the small stuff this Holiday Season. I hope it was really good big stuff.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
I think Mr. S. gets far too much credit. What does he do, exactly? In my house a giraffe makes the toys and it's the elves that make the mess. A mess of paper and ribbons that streams from room to room. Every room, in case I didn't make my point.
And then, Mr. S. has the gall to wonder why Mrs. S's hair is white and steam is coming out of her ears with the sound of train whistles. And, by the way, when's dinner? And, did you make my favorite pie? And, I'm hungry.
He thinks he's a hero if he put his finger on the knot while Mrs. S. ties the bows on the packages and carved the Roast Beast. He even ... and, what's this? For me? Why, it's exactly what I wanted.
I don't have any idea what Mr. and Mrs. S. are doing but this I know. He needs the longest night of the year to get done what he needs to get done, and it'll be dark at the North Pole until April so they can sleep it off.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
If you include all the grandparents (who know they're grandparents) there will be seven of us at tonight's gathering which amounts to approximately 33% of the total revelers.
Next year, there will be (at least) eight of us. A perfect example of the aging population.
I'm just taking a short break between baking and dish washing before taking off to Grandma's House. Safe travels to all who are venturing out today. And, keep an eye out for the Fat Guy.
Friday, December 23, 2011
I was married (the first time) in 1984 and Charlie, a college classmates of my parents, was invited. He didn't come but I made up an index card with his name and address on it anyway. Everyone who was invited got a card whether they came or not. The cards also tracked what people gave for a wedding present so I could appropriately thank them. And then, the card file became my first Christmas Card List as a married woman. I had been instructed to send each one a card my first Christmas as Mrs. So-And-So. And, so, I did.
I heard back from several to whom I sent cards. But Charlie's was my favorite. He thanked me for the card and then asked who the hell I was. Not in so many words but since I had signed the card with my new married name, he couldn't make the connection to his former college classmates.
So I wrote back, "I am the daughter of ..." and explained the situation of having been instructed to mail greetings to everyone on the original guest list.
The following year, I received a card from Charlie. And, the next year. And the next. For 27 years.
Now, he uses a computer so sometimes I hear from him at other times of the year. But I still get a Christmas card. Every year.
Which is awesome.
Merry Christmas, Charlie.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
So no posting. Can't be done. I'm just too busy.
I have to check the list. Twice. And compare it to everything that's laid out on the dining room table in little piles, organized by intended recipient. I have to stir. Again. And check for doneness. So, I'm sorry, dear readers. No post today.
All that's left is the menu. I have the general idea. The roast is already ordered and I figure there will be some vegetables and potatoes. Oh, and don't forget pie. And wine. So, there's at least one more run to the grocery store. On the busiest day of the year. No sweat.
And I should probably do a little housekeeping. You know, just straighten up a little. I usually like to hide things in the oven or the dishwasher but they'll be in use. Maybe the washer? Or dryer? Which reminds me, time to advance the laundry.
Dinner's about ready and it's time to get it on the table. Oh, wait. The table is covered with all the presents. I suppose we could eat under the tree to make things even.
Oh, well. Just so you know. There will be no post today.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
I set him on a stool and let him arrange the figures however he saw fit. Pop quiz: Where's baby Jesus?
I don't think he's familiar with the story of the manger. But he understands the concept of a barn and he knows animals go in there so that's the first thing he set about doing. Getting the animals in the barn. There just wasn't enough room in there for all the people. He got a shepherd in there, and the Three Wise Men, but Mary and Joseph didn't make the cut.
Baby Jesus is there but he's hard to spot because it got a little crowded in there. He's under the camel. The one that's front and center. Actually, back and center is more accurate.
Who knows? Maybe that's the way it really was. Maybe all that the visitors who traveled afar could see after their arduous trek with their gifts of adoration was a camel's ass and a filthy barn.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
Cleaned the apartment, so that's good. Went for a walk and got caught up on my reading, so that's good. Prepared a report and ordered inventory, so that's good. But only spent about two hours at my PAYING JOB which is not so good.
Good thing my boss isn't reading this or she'd be PISSED. The trick, so far, has been to produce something that looks really great around 4:30 in the afternoon, something that took me 10 minutes to put together and is completely unsubstantial but looks impressive. That'll work until either 1) someone catches on, or 2) I really need to GET SOMETHING DONE.
I see a panicked, mad dash to Target in my immediate future.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
I can convert to PDF and provide a link to download that direct to your portable device. I tested it and it worked fine. It just doesn't provide a very readable copy. So unless you can help me out (or you convert yourself from HTML to ePub and then sync to your device, which is all I can think of), you'll just have to read it here.
The HTML version will convert nicely to a portable reader having access to the internet but you won't have the ability to bookmark. So, I'm stuck.
That being said, I'll get to work on a final version which will be published, and therefore available for download to a portable reader near you.
Which, my secret agent man thinks is a better idea, anyway, than giving away free books.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
I remember, long, long ago, shopping at Toys R Us while Hubby's Ex had the kids. We'd buy all the things a Divorced Dad would buy. Things That Required Assembly.
We'd go home, pour drinks, and assemble. I would read the directions and Hubby would ignore them, thinking them more advisory than absolutely necessary. There were usually parts leftover but by the time we were done, we didn't care anymore. We'd be bleary-eyed, exhausted, and a little drunk.
We'd hide the debris and go to bed, delirious that we were about to deliver the most memorable Christmas ever. The next day, the silly grins on our faces were as much from our sleep-deprived fog of Christmas Hangover as from our silly delusions of providing love through giant presents.
We're older and wiser now. Much older, mildly wiser. We have a grandson and we leave all Items Requiring Assembly to his parents. Now, we just give love. Oh, there's other stuff under the tree but not a lot. It doesn't take that much to make a three-year-old happy.
Which makes us happy. The silly grins are reserved for our delight in him. And his wants are pretty simple. He wants a pair of scissors he can use himself. And some paper he can cut. And our time and attention, which we gladly give him.
Now, we get to shop for ourselves. And guess what? We got just what we wanted.
It looks white, I know, but it's really green. I was worried about my over reliance on paper towels in the kitchen so I bought a package of washcloths at Costco and put dozen in the kitchen right next to the paper towel roll.
It worked. I use far fewer paper towels than I used to. By having several on the counter top within reach, I want to feel like I can use as many as I need although, as it turns out, I rarely go through more than one per day. But it's also nice to know I can have a fresh one whenever I want and it will never turn into something moldy and stinky like the dreaded kitchen sponge.
Anyway, for about $12, I can help save the planet, one paper towel at a time.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
We were coming home from Grandma and Grandpa's house on Christmas Eve, and we were telling the kids that maybe - just maybe - Santa had come while we were gone. We bought them bicycles that year. A green one for Big Brother. A blue one for Little Brother. We figured we wouldn't be able to wrap them so we put them in their bedrooms for them to find when we got home. So we were trying to encourage the idea that it would have been a perfect time for Santa to come. While we were gone.
Oh, no, Little Brother explained, Thanta can't come until it noeth. (He had trouble with the letter s but for some reason, snow became no rather than thnoe.) Well, this was a predicament. There wasn't a cloud in the sky.
A fairly serious discussion ensued on the topic but we could not convince him. We searched the sky for snow, hoping for even a snowflake so the magic could happen. We pulled into our garage and went into the house. Put away your coats, boys, I said. They ran into their rooms and tossed their coats on their beds. One saw a bike. One was still concerned about the no.
Still, Big Brother didn't break the spell. Little Brother ran to the big picture window in the living room to resume his search for no. It hath to no, or Thanta won't come!
And just at that moment there was a light in the sky. It was an airplane or a satellite but that didn't matter. To Little Brother, it was Santa. He pointed. He shouted. He was sure. It was him! I can thee him!
Let's go outside and get a better look, I said. He ran into his room, past his blue bike with a red bow, grabbed his jacket, and out the front door we went.
Do you think it's really him?
Oh, yeth, it'th him.
We watched the light until we couldn't see it anymore. It's was a magical moment to actually see - or make believe you see - Santa in action. Not just the man but the entire entourage. An amazing, imaginary sight.
Little Brother was elated. Santa was probably the biggest concept he could get his head around. An epic moment for a six-year old.
We came back into the house, silent in our reverence and joy. Put your coats away, boys, I said for the second time that night. To their bedrooms they went.
And then it happened. Little Brother came running out of his bedroom. He wath here! He came! He had finally seen his bike.
He ran back to the picture window and searched the sky for another glimpse at the Fat Man. I believe! he cried. I believe!
When I had kids, I taught them to make red and green balls. I made chef hats out of paper towels and tape, tied on aprons and stood the boys on stools so they could manufacture their own balls.
Now, I have a grandson and it's time to pass on the balls. And fish. Herring, pickled and creamed. Another tradition which sounds disgusting even to me - and I like it. Not together, of course. Herring with balls. Can you imagine? Just the thought is a trifle sickening. No, best to keep the balls and herring separate. Safer that way.
I lost the recipe for the balls last year. Turned the house upside down for it. Got an e-mailed copy that was lost in translation either by the sender or the recipient but they weren't the same. Had to throw them all away. Such a sad, sad waste.
I'll turn the house upside down again this year because it's time to make the balls again and maybe I missed it in last year's search. The kids are already asking for them and the grandson is too, although he's not old enough to really know what they are yet. But they're delicious, the balls are. That much I can say.
I already have the sugar, red and green, to roll the balls in. All I need now is a truckload of butter. And a recipe. I need that recipe or all is lost.
It's just not the same without the balls.
And red and green fish is gross.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
I know some of you are still getting presents pretty regular. Being young, and all, it's to be expected. I'm sure you're ready. Permanently on the nice list, as it were. Then, there are others that have no expectation of being so lucky as to get presented with - ahem - a present. Does that make you naughty? No doubt, unprepared.
But, there's always hope, isn't there? No matter who you are. How old or how young. How naughty or nice. It's a bit like Cindy Lou Hoo, that belief, although maybe not so innocent or naive. But that's what this time of year is for, isn't it? A little hope?
Ah, yes. A little hope. For a present. Somewhere between naughty and nice.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Make a honey dijon spread. I used coarse ground dijon mustard - about a quarter cup - to 1-1.5 tablespoon honey according to taste.
Slice the pork tenderloin into very thin slices.
Assemble sliders: rosemary biscuit, pork, a little honey mustard (doesn't take much), add a little baby lettuce greens = twenty pork sliders that I guarantee will be eaten up at your next gathering.
They're great reheated too. Take off the lettuce, wrap in foil, reheat about 10 minutes in 375 oven. Yum.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Ten gifts. All accounted for. And that, it seems, is the end of our story. Somebody who chose and whose neighbors chose to never identify spent the spring, summer and fall expressing her thanks for the continuing existence of libraries, museums and books in Scotland, "a tiny gesture," she called it.
Tiny, yes, but also, in its way, very grand.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
They know I can't touch them, as much as I would love to. I have to face the public and what would they think if they saw what I had done? I would rather stay inside and hide from any face-to-face encounters until these interlopers pick up and leave. Forever.
I could pierce the top of my right ear and the right corner of my mouth and dangle a chain between the two. That might disguise them or possibly draw attention away from them. I could wear a Phantom Of The Opera mask that would allow only one side of my face - the left side - to be exposed. Maybe a wild hairdo or dramatic eye makeup as distraction.
That is why, (boss / chairman / president ), I couldn't (come into work / attend the board meeting / present my report). I'm being occupied and the disruption to my normal (workflow / attendance / stellar reporting) is unavoidable. As much as I would like to change this situation, I know the damage they can do and I must wait it out.
I sit on my hands.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Thank goodness, there's always the first latte of the day....
Friday, November 4, 2011
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
But the reunion found me. One did, anyway. I happened to be on Facebook lamenting the discomforts of our small apartment when I noticed a post from a high school classmate who was excited about promoting her novel on her first book tour, her current stop being Portland, just across the river from my tiny apartment.
A flurry of text messages produced phone numbers and before I knew it, we were planning time to get together. Right now she's giving an interview to the local newspaper at the Wordstock Festival at the Portland Convention Center and then we're off to lunch and 30 years of catching up.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
America differed from Russia in that its government existed under the form of a democracy. The officials who ruled it, and got all the graft, had to be elected first; and so there were two rival sets of grafters, known as political parties....The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair, 1906
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Pork and Pasta salad and Peaches
Poultry and Potatoes with Peas
Pesto Pasta with Poultry and Peppers
Tonight, it's Pasta Primavera and tomorrow, it's Pesto Pizza.
Monday, August 29, 2011
The real purpose of this post was to see who’d click through to an entry titled “cool data…”
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Yankee's new Leaf Peepr app, free and downloadable for iPhones and Droids, lets users check color status by region or zip code, and also offers interactive elements like the ability to upload new reports and photos to YankeeFoliage.com's fall foliage map. Leaf color on the Leaf Peepr app is coded as green, turning, moderate, peak, fading and gone.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Friday, August 5, 2011
Read more: http://www.seattlepi.com/living/article/With-right-tune-musical-desk-reveals-its-secrets-1734531.php#ixzz1UD5f6Ct5
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
|From Drop Box|
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Okay, I'm exaggerating, but only slightly.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
One tweet explained why the reptiles avoided airport security: 'We go straight to the runway because it takes 5 hours to get out of our shells for the TSA ...and the shell pat down option is too awkward.'Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/travel/article-2009791/JFK-Turtles-Flights-delays-New-York-airport-mating-turtles.html#ixzz1QoCMSpst
"I don't accept the status quo," he told the crowd, brandishing a portable credit card processing machine. "I do accept Visa, Mastercard or American Express."
Friday, June 24, 2011
That’s the name of a housing development that placed an advertisement on the front page of the Seattle P-I’s website. I’m thinking Overlook anything was a bad idea from a marketing prospective. Why would you want Overlook in the name of something you want people to look at? And while iPad wasn’t a sexy name, it was, nevertheless, enthusiastically adopted by popular culture. By the way, if you want to take a look at Overlook, you can win an iPad.
It’s better than Probe, I guess.
But, never – never - should you overlook Glenn.
Went to the dentist yesterday where they cleaned my teeth with some super-charged water pick that sprayed highly focused water at my gum line. All I could think was I hope she doesn’t slip with that thing and That air hose is useless, stuck to my lower lip. I’ve usually swallowed whatever detritus they were hoping to suck up before they ever get around to it anyway, so what’s the point?
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
Polly wants a quacker.
A problem cannot be solved by the mind that created it.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Right now I'm sipping a latte outside a Nordstrom just as it's opening, purses beckoning for me to browse the half-yearly sale. I've been good today. I had oatmeal and fruit for breakfast and I've done my walk for the day. But the last few days I've been pretty damned lazy. Not walking, eating out, and not writing a single word.
I guess you could call it a vacation and excuse me for my lax behavior. Lazy is what you're supposed to done on vacation, after all. We're in Vancouver (WA) today and should be home tomorrow. Yesterday, we explored Camas (WA) and Cascade Station in Oregon. Last week we explored the Columbia River waterfront on the Washington side, downtown Vancouver, Uptown Village just north of downtown, and the historical Hough District including the Historical Museum in the old Vancouver Library.
Between last week and this, we ventured to the Oregon coast where we walked on the beach, did a little gambling and shopping, more eating, and where I sang Crazy by Patsy Cline in a karaoke bar. I suppose that was interesting.
Did I mention eating? It's hard to eat well on a road trip unless you're lucky enough to bring your kitchen with you. We did find some gems along the way. Something to look forward and plan for next time. That's my favorite part about travel. Finding really good food and the adventure of discovering it.
The stores are open and my cup is empty. Time to walk on.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
I made a video. It's raw and amateurish but I know there are voyeurs when it comes to toast. Don't watch if it's not your thing.
It's been my experience, however, that many think it's magic.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
He's often talked about bringing a newer model into our home - for years, in fact. I was the one who resisted. I've been faithful to one toaster for so long, the idea of trying something new - especially with the old toaster watching - feels more than awkward. It feels plain wrong.
My toaster and I go back nearly 50 years together. You don't just toss that aside like it didn't matter. Like it wasn't significant. My faithful toaster still resides in its usual space, underneath the counter. I've not displaced it. Meanwhile, the Other Toaster still sits, unopened, untouched in its box on the counter. I can hardly bear to look at it, much less toast with it.
And even though I haven't made a single move towards the new toaster, the old one protests by making toast even less appealing than before. It's never in the mood, it seems, to get hot on both sides of the bread. I have to stop and start and constantly readjust just to get a little toast. Is that too much to ask? I don't ask often. Maybe once a week, if that. But still, it takes coaxing.
My husband has been patient. He's waiting for us to get acquainted before he starts toasting on his own or we start toasting together.
I'm not willing to give up toast. I like toast. I'm even willing to try new things. But a new toaster? I hope my husband knows how much I love him just to even consider it.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
The dishwasher holds a similar property. The best time to unload one is just before dinner. Set the table from whatever's in the dishwasher and you don't have to put it away (which is the whole argument for having two dishwashers - one for dirty, one for clean).
Here's my cleaning tip for the day: don't. You can't tell how dirty your house is until you start cleaning it. And if you can't tell it's dirty, why start?
So there you go.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
I'l have to talk to the marketing team about putting our logo on the bus.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
Problem: Sex can literally break your heart.
Solution: More sex.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
The IRS has ruined another weekend, I might add. It's bad enough that I work weekends as it is, but to tack another one on for good measure is just rude. April 15th is a Friday so what's wrong with just getting it over with? The 15th is a holiday in DC - that's why - so while they get a day off, I'm at work. And the next day, and the next day, and the day after that, ruining yet another weekend.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Note my place card. A loyal reader. (Thank you, Sandy!)
Thursday, March 3, 2011
I always thought dancing with good exercise but that seems to the mostly true when you don't intend to do it. at a nightclub for example are party. personally I like to dance wall in cooking. this might explain why some of my recipes turnout and some of them don't. I wonder if that's what happened to my christmas cookies this year. instead of watching the pot to boil I turn my back on in the kneeboogie.
so I tried to dance video on tv instead of my walk today. it's almost as moronic dancing by yourself as it is to be alone in a room on a treadmill dictating 1 blog. it was a dance instructor and his students, mostly female mostly young. macgyver pretty funny to watch but I cheered for the old lady in the back. it wasn't long until the old lady and I were just shuffling side to side trying to keep rhythm with the beat.
sorry old lady you're on your own.
I still think dancing is good exercise. but I thought I should a few minutes on the treadmill just to be sure. I know I'm the 1 making the rules here I wanted to make sure today's episode counted.
my next published book - okay my first published book - ruby of photos take endurance 365 days of walking. problem is there's nothing much photojenic about working out on a lid on an elliptical machine in a hotel weight room or walking on a treadmill in indoors. but I've got to say I'm glad no 1 was here take pictures of me dancing in my living room.
lindsay dot out