Just checking in
So I've been slacking off on the blog a little bit- sorry! We've been super busy, plus I was hit with some nasty 24-hr bug that took me a couple days to recover from. No fun. The good news is it's over, and now we are looking forward to a brief but hopefully fun trip to Charleston. About time! :) I have some special plans for a letterbox I'd like to plant down there, but have not managed to find time to carve the stamp etc. I hope I get it done!
Friday, May 26, 2006
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
a little mental chewing gum for you
A quote for you today:
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Our awesome motorcycle pics (updated)
So, if you want to see the badass pictures of Billy and I on the motorcycle last Thursday, they are available online. There are a few companies that hang out on the Dragon's Tail and shoot pics of everyone driving by. They put the pics online, and you can go see if they have any shots of you. Two companies got pics of our run that day- here's how to see them:
Current mood: aggravated
Dogs on the deck. Baby happy in the playpen, Littleman wants to "watch"- he settles on the couch. Clear a space, lay out my mat. Breathe deep. Perfect time. Smoothly, I follow the prompts and focus on gently relaxing my muscles. "Elongate the spine. Exhale to center. Inhale, arms up. . ." Littleman slid off the couch about 2 minutes in, now he's sort of doing yoga too. I encourage him- I'd love to have him practice with me. ". . . to downward-facing dog pose. . ." I breathe, I stretch my spine, I press my toes into the mat. Feels good. Littleman has completely lost interest- he is running circles around me, screaming with glee. Sweetcheeks in the playpen is getting restless, too. Blocking it out, I relax into Child's pose (Alas, it does not in any way resemble my children at this moment!). Littleman trys to climb on my back. Sweetcheeks begins fussing in earnest. ". . .Inhale, arch your back. . ." Littleman crawls under my belly. Sweetcheeks is crying. ". . .Exhale. . ." Littleman literally shoves a toy in my face, loudly telling me something about it. His body blocks the TV. The dogs outside go ballistic over a jogger on the street. Sweetcheeks is insistent, though I try talking gently to him and telling Simon to move out of the way. On my back now, a jumping Littleman accidentally steps on my fingers. It hurts. Sweetcheeks is starting to get frantic. A last ditch attempt to relax, and I'm nailed in the face with a ball.
Sigh. I gave up.
Sunday, May 7, 2006
Six years ago today, Billy and I stood on a dock over a lake, hands fast, and publicly proclaimed our lifelong commitment. We sealed the deal with a leap over the broomstick. That day was a blast- so many great friends and family, a comfortable laid-back outdoors gathering and the indescribable joy between Billy and me. What an appropriate beginning.
Saturday, May 6, 2006
Is it still a train of thought if it's on a motorcycle?
The far side of the lake flickers on and off like an old film, disappearing and reappearing rapidly as trees whip past my vision. Warm, heavy air captures scent and holds it, intensifying the honeysuckle and fresh-mown hay until it feels as though we are swimming in summertime. I anticipate the turns, our bodies synchronized and balanced, dancing with the living asphalt. The speed is exhilarating, but it is this measured, magic balance that defines our best rides. (It's rather like meditation, really- I'm having difficulty describing it- it is learned and practiced, but feels utterly instinctual. It requires a certain hyper-awareness of the here and now. It's a matter of rhythm, of relaxation and of skill. Such rides definitely tap into an energy and a power that is beyond the everyday). Passing through forest, the air is thick with the scent of hot, baking pine straw- sweet and toasty, it perfumes the air as surely as fresh spice cake on a crisp winter evening. I see the butterfly in a split instant, and abruptly it whips along my wake and off somewhere behind me. Does it wonder what in the hell that was all about? (I'm glad I didn't splat it). Slower, easier here, I stretch warmed muscles and tip my helmet toward the sky. We've been lucky today, skirting pewter-black billows and staying dry. Now I see a smooth expanse of perfect turquoise, strewn with endless marches of roiling brilliant white cumulus. The sun is getting lower and it is sparkling with improbable incandescence off the stream winding through the fields. Brief flashes of life whiz by, little glimpses into other universes populated with joys and sorrows, wisdom and folly, peace and stresses that I shall never know anything about. Flash, flicker, flying by and they are gone, just as quickly as they arrived. I'm overwhelmed, happily trying to take it all in, sucking in life and love and exhilaration until I feel as though my heart would burst. How much life can one being hold? I see the passing place coming and adjust my position, and then we fly away to new horizons.
Monday, May 1, 2006
My war wounds and honors
You know, I have to say I've been a little surprised at myself when it comes to body image these days. I have never in my life been terribly concerned with how I look, and though I try to eat well and keep active, my interest in being young and fit is pretty limited. I would certainly have never expected to waste much thought on the unfortunate physical side-effects of childbearing. Oddly enough however, I have found myself mourning a little over the fact that my body is completely different now than it was pre-children, and there are some aspects of that youthful figure which I can never regain. Not to get into nitty-gritty details, but for those of you in blissful ignorance, some forever-altered areas include hips (completely different shape), joints (noticeably more stiff), tummy (no amount of exercise will ever make that poor stretched skin flat and firm again), back (ow) and breasts (I'd rather not talk about it). There's oh so much more, but you get the idea.