[tweetthis]#kitchensafe #comedy #write #justwrite #sharktank[/tweetthis]

I made it to my favorite workout class tonight. Huzzah! If you follow me on Instagram, you saw the pic one of my workout and teaching partners in crime took of us. (See what I did there? Clever and shameless.) Life just feels better when i manage to squeeze it in to my day. My Fitbit and family appreciate this also. I have surpassed 10,000 steps, you see. No need to power walk up and down the hall 750 times until my little wrist vibrates and flashes in all its glory with the big 10k. My kids sometimes watch me, wide-eyed with wonder, like they’re hearing the banjo from “Deliverance” for the first time. Sorry, not sorry. It’s one of my quirks.

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[tweetthis]Howling at the #Bloodmoon[/tweetthis]

I saw that man again today. That sad looking one that sits on the corner of 7th and our main highway through town. You know the type. Do you ever stop and give them money? Some of you probably think I’m gullible. That those people are dishonest and lazy. Maybe they are. I still feel a twinge of guilt and an awkwardness when I drive by and pretend to not see him. Even if the words scribbled on that ratty piece of cardboard aren’t true, even if he doesn’t really have a hungry family he needs to feed – it’s still sad to me. To come to that point of need, or addiction, or a self-worth that is so absolutely nil that you’d rather beg than try harder.

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What’s your learning capacity? Oh… hi and good morning. Excuse my abruptness. I’ve been standing over the sink washing a set of dreadful dishes and this has been bouncing around in my head. How far are you willing to go? Do you even know or care? This whole process is new to me, you see. I know nothing about setting up websites, adding sight plug ins, gaining followers, or analyzing site traffic. What the heck is a jet pack and why does a little button encouraging “Woo-Commerce” keep coming up in my WordPress? If this sounds Greek to you, I’m right there with ya. I’m referring to the new terms and technicalities I see every day on this new blog adventure. I.don’t.know.squat. I just like to write stuff. Can’t the rest of this crap do itself?

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It’s Saturday afternoon. Between scrubbing my kitchen back to orderly life and detailing my van to my favorite 90s Pandora station, I’ve been playing “pep rally” with my daughter. It fits her spunky persona to want to pretend put on a pep rally. Her preschool is attached to our local high school, and her little class of 5 or 6 had the opportunity to attend this week’s Homecoming Pep Rally. Oh my word.. What fun she must have had! I’ve heard nothing else since she came home Friday afternoon. We’ve been reenacting the whole gala this afternoon. She does this a lot – emulates experiences. I’m surprised at times at her attention to details. Children really are sponges to the most miniscule facets of an encounter. As far as the opportunities that I provide her, I pray that the majority of them are positive, residual, and teach her how to be reflective and independent. Her favorite Disney princess is Mulan, by the way. This I love. She wants to be the warrior princess. Rock on, sweet girl. Maybe I am doing something right.

 

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[tweetthis]Happy Birthday, Johnny! #Appleseed #apples #followyourbliss[/tweetthis]

 

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Do you ever find yourself caught up in hypothetical scenarios? I find myself doing this all the time. Like… what if I actually DID walk into to work stark raving naked like that terrible reoccurring dream I keep having. What if I forget to lock the house one day and we get robbed? What if I can’t keep up with this blog for 30 days in a row business that I’ve somehow talked myself in to doing. What if? What if? What if?

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[tweetthis]#procrastinator #tweetthis #writing[/tweetthis]

Hey. You. Tap, tap, tap. That’s right. I’m addressing you, the reader. Bravo for finding my blog, by the way. I feel very small out here in cyberspace. But for whatever reason, click of the mouse, or tap of the screen – you are here. HERE. You are reading these words that I have pre-typed on my cell phone Notes App, because inspiration hits at odd times and can be a real pain in the ass. I’m just saying. Wouldn’t it be nice if it struck when you were home? All cozy comfy in your ugly sweats, sitting in front of your laptop? Summon the inspiration! I’m ready now! But, no. At least not in my reality. For example, right now I’m in the midst of getting my hair done. There’s enough foil up in here to tune in to Eastern Ukraine.

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Running.  This used to be a dirty word in my mind.  Who wants to do that?  Why on earth would anybody choose of their own free will to over exert themselves without reason? My thoughts this evening stayed in constant motion with the pounding rhythm of my sneakers. I could fully understand the concept if someone were to be chasing me with a knife. Otherwise….

My opinion has changed over the last couple of years, as opinions often do.  Call it old age. Or maybe the desire to not succumb to diabetes and heart disease if I have power to prevent them.  And I do.   Also, the exhaustion that wraps its cruel fingers around my brain and body while both raising and teaching small children was starting to eat me alive.  These were important motivators.  However, the brain is a fascinating organ.  You see, I’ve known for my entire life that exercise and a balanced diet are valuable practices for a better life.  I just didn’t care.  My running journey didn’t start because I was a changed woman.  This journey started for me because I need an escape.  I needed an out from stress.  I needed some me time away from kids, responsibilities, paper grading, bills, housework, disagreements.  I just needed…. Something.

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Gridiron

I love this time of year.  The temperature in the Midwest really starts to cool down.  People peek their noses back outdoors and start noticing the rapidly changing air.   The trees aren’t quite ready to turn those beautiful shades of orange and burgundy, but oh so close.  You can almost smell Fall in the air.  If you’re anything like me, the idea of sweatshirt hoodies and campfires just about make you do cartwheels.  And football season.  Everybody is happier during football season, am I right?  I can appreciate a good NFL game on the television for sure.  But, my favorite players to watch are the pint-sized version.  Go ahead.  If you know me personally you know I tip the charts at a scathing 5″ tall.  Pint sized people are my cup of tea.

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So I’ve been amused lately at my daughter’s creations. She’s 3. She’ll be 12 in October. She loves all things girly and pink and princess. This is completely NOT the way I was raised. When I was her age, I remember playing in dirt and scooping buckets into the cow pond in search of tadpoles. My Grandpa Everett used to call this part of the farm the “honey hole”. If you aren’t familiar with farm terminology, don’t think too hard on what that refers to. You might think differently of me.
Nevertheless, it has been interesting to watch my daughter come into her own personality. She’s artsy. I dig it. She likes painting and doodling. She’s a sponge to new knowledge in preschool. Her latest craze is Scotch tape. Oh the joy two pieces of paper and a cheap roll of tape can bring. It has become a nightly chant when we get home. “Piece of paper, not a book! Piece of paper, not a book!” She’ll say this over and over again, referring to NOT a coloring book. This is her attention getting mechanism those first few minutes home. You know, when Mom unloads the car on the entryway floor and slumps over the kitchen counter scrolling through a bunch of brain rotting social media posts, while the other hand gets lost in the Goldfish bag. Don’t lie. You know you do this, too. I just need 5 minutes, ok?! After about the 752nd “Piece of paper, not a book!” I’ll roll up the goldfish bag – Stupid, salty crackers – and mosey over to the desk for her paper and tape.

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Family Photo

Family Photo

Families are not meant to be perfect. Some days they aren’t even functional. And being in charge of little people, raising them well, hoping you instill the values that make them productive members of society is just about enough to make my head pop off. So through the evening homework arguments (I know nothing, I tell you! Just ask my son.), celebrations, sports practices, cooking disasters, long work days, did I mention arguments? Somehow, we muddle our way through. Somehow, we get to the other side. And in the blink of an eye moments become memories.

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