WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

I was thinking of that summery song from the 70s by Seals and Crofts as I strolled along the perimeter path this morning.  Those lyrics, and this chalk art, sum up a perfect Summer day.  I took the photo of these chalk etchings a few weeks ago and decided to tuck it away, then match it up with a sunny, Summer-lovin’ day like this one.

Anticipating the refreshing walk, I got an early start and took the car out for a spin to Council Point Park.  I wanted to get my four miles in, so I could hurry home and start cleaning out the garage. The garage was fairly organized after I decluttered it and cleaned it out in the Fall of 2016, but, unfortunately, on June 9^th the contractors for the insulation job threw everything in a heap in the back of the garage and also left hundreds of foam tidbits and cellulose pieces in their wake.  I swept out some of those papery particles and others have glommed onto everything, even inside closed cabinets.  It was quite the colossal mess, so I decided that I’d make use of the cooler, less-humid weather to tackle this job.

Slowly, but surely, in the year 2017, I have declared war on disorganization, clutter, and/or mess – whatever description you want to use, and I’m still anxious to finish everything to enjoy some “me” time.  I just hope it doesn’t rain every weekend once my designated “me” time finally arrives.

Despite that big, bold sun, there sure was a “Fall feel” in the air, and it made me recall that I heard Accuweather’s long-range weather forecast on August 1^st and jotted it down, to look at around Thanksgiving to see how accurate they were.  I really don’t know whether to believe these same weather folks, who predicted a snowier-than-usual Winter for 2016-2017, and, it turned out to be a fairly mild and low snowfall season (not that I am complaining).

Anyway, the Accuweather meteorologists predict that Michigan will have a “very dry September, a very moist October and a wintry November” (hmmm, I’m glad they used the word “very” for the first two months only!)  At that rate, I’d better keep motivated and moving along with my steps and miles, just in case October and November’s weather put a big dent in my daily excursions, thus messing up my final goal.

Most of the regulars were at the Park today, and I chatted with a few folks, then hastened to get my two laps in so I could get home.  I did not even make a single pit stop for my peanut pals, because they were all MIA, so that full Ziploc bag filled with peanuts that was slapping against my thigh the two trips around the entire Park, went home with me untouched … well, there’s always tomorrow.

That was some torrential rain last night, but we sure needed it.  The lawns were getting downright crispy looking.

This morning the weatherman said it was 93% humidity and shallow fog.  Well, no wonder with all that rain!  I peered outside and saw no fog, but, there were leaves and debris littering the street, hours after I saw that same flotsam floating in the rain water which had collected in the street and was rapidly rising to the top of the curb during the height of the storm.

Thinking that Council Point Park might be a haven for mosquitoes this morning, I decided to take the car for a spin, and just walk laps at Meijer and enjoy the air-conditioned store, rather than endure buggy or muggy conditions.  But, out of force of habit, I was halfway to the Park before I realized “oh-oh … wrong destination” so I blamed my brain fog on the warm weather and just stayed the course, because … doggone it, how hot and humid could it be there anyway in the early morning?

I parked and headed toward the pavilion where I saw the perimeter path was already filled with most of the regular crowd, so I decided that I had made the right decision to swelter at the nature nook versus ten trips past the produce, dairy and meat departments, and, at the other end of the store, strolling past the school supplies.  Yep, they’ve been out since 4^th of July.

But, if you check out this Great Dane and his master, a pair I regularly see walking the perimeter path, they both look hot and dog tired, don’t you agree?  Usually, on their morning meanderings, the dog is walking with its head high, and is very regal-looking next to its handler. This pooch and his master do look a little pooped to me, and the dog kept stopping on the path, four feet planted firmly in place.

Unfortunately, there was no breeze this morning, but there must have been quite a bit of wind at the Park last night during the storm because there were leaves, and even some small branches, scattered about the grounds.  It was nothing compared to Memorial Park which I passed on my short road trip, where there were large branches laying everywhere.

Actually the walk was not so stifling as you’d think, since the sun had been just filtering between the clouds, but, on my last walking loop, the sun finally popped out and was full strength.  Whew!  I was beginning to regret my decision, but, I got four loops walked, (which was four miles), and more steps than I’d have garnered at Meijer by walking laps around the perimeter of the store, especially since I often stop to chitchat along the way.

Hang in there – the “Dog Days of Summer” are here ‘til August 11^th … thankfully, relief is in sight this weekend, which ought to make us feel frisky and like young pups again.

I set out on this first day of August with a spring in my step, albeit a subdued spring, since slowly the heat and humidity have crept back into the Summer weather equation.  We’re back to dealing with the tropical-like feel once again.  And, there’s nothing like tropical garb to go along with those delicious fruit smoothies or rainbow-flavored popsicles you are no doubt indulging in while you soak up the sun’s rays.

In July’s crusade to end the clutter in my basement, I found some tropical-looking duds, luckily just in time for the escalating temps.

About a month ago, I was walking down Merrill Avenue, enroute to Council Point Park, and passed by a house, where the homeowner had painted their shutters, front door and trim in a delicious-looking cantaloupe color.  The vibrant hue gives an almost quaint, cottage-like look to this house.  On this particular morning, a woman was sitting in a chair on the porch and wearing capris in that very same cantaloupe color.  We said “good morning” to one another and I told her “your capris exactly match your house trim” and she looked down, then laughed and agreed, saying “I never thought about it, but you’re right!”

As I walked away, still chuckling, I said to myself “I have capris in that very color and style and I haven’t seen them in years, so what the heck happened to them anyway?”  I remembered they were a gorgeous melon shade and I never saw them upstairs with the rest of the clothes.  So, since that morning, I grew rather melancholy about my melon-colored capris, fearful that I might have even forgotten to pick them up from the cleaners.  At one point, I even absurdly thought perhaps the cleaners sold their cache of unretrieved garments and this lady was wearing MY capris!

Well, I don’t have to wonder any longer.  On the clothes rack downstairs, wedged in between some sedate-looking dress pants, I discovered those cantaloupe-colored capris hanging right next to a black pair of capris with embroidered pineapples, watermelon and cherries festooned all over them.  I was definitely thinking Summer when I made that purchase!

Nothing like kickin’ up your heels and feeling carefree in capris that look like they belong to Toucan Sam of Froot Loops cereal fame!

August of 2016 was the hottest month in meteorological history … I sure hope we don’t go there this year.

… ’til February.

We were blessed with yet another beautiful day today.

In fact, this day was 3G … great, glorious … yup, a true gem, and one we’d like to tuck away and pull out in the dead of Winter.

Not only was this a day that I wanted to go that extra mile before heading home to tackle the basement one last time (yeah!), but it was a 3G day for spotting “wildlife” usually not seen along the perimeter path.  Those three sightings were of birds and a critter whose names begin with the letter “G”.

As I passed the cement landing, a green heron was staring across the Creek and contemplating life I guess.  He stood there for the longest time.  I got a picture, then greedily, I decided I had to have a close-up shot, but as I moved toward him, he suddenly took flight.  I’m not a “birder” per se, and I may not have readily identified that tall, skinny bird with the long beak, except you might recall last Summer I spotted an unusual bird at the marina, used his photo with my blog post that day, then I e-mailed the photo to the DNR to inquire what type of crane or heron it was.  They identified it as a green heron.

Soon thereafter, a goldfinch was flitting between the branches of a small tree; you couldn’t miss his bright-colored plumage among the green leaves.

But, my biggest “find” (though certainly not a stellar shot), was a gopher.  It is the first time I’ve seen one at the Park and he posed very nicely, even when I made a move to grab the camera from the pouch, and I got one shot., but before I could zoom in on him, it was “go gopher go” as he scurried away and popped into his burrow in a heartbeat.

I know where he lives and now I will stalk him. 🙂

What a fantastic weather day we had and I was out bright and early to enjoy it.  This is the last weekend in July, and, happily the last weekend that I will spend in the basement working, because, with any luck, come Sunday evening I am done!

I won’t promise the basement will make the glossy pages of “House Beautiful”, nor will it pass muster with Martha Stewart, but I shall no longer cringe when I have to take someone downstairs.

Meanwhile, I have gotten re-acquainted with every item of clothing and footwear downstairs and revisited all the Rubbermaid tubs filled with “retirement stuff” (much of it squirreled away before the internet came around).  It’s been a monumental task for sure.

So, this morning, as I went tripping off to the Park, a Ziploc bag brimming with peanuts at my side, I took in the peace and solitude of the neighborhoods that I traveled through.  I enjoyed the male and female cardinal tweeting to one another and all the delightful birdsong along the way.  I smiled when I heard the fast-pecking noise of the pesky woodpeckers that were drilling holes into a tree, or two … or three.  All these morning sounds were certainly noticeable, the result of windows being opened to invite in the refreshing air, and the hum of A/C units being non-existent for a change.

At the Park, where many others who frequent the perimeter pathway consider me a “squirrel magnet”, I stopped to chat about the glorious weather to several walkers.  Of course, if I pause longer than a few minutes in close proximity to the blue metal park bench, and do so without opening up my bag of peanuts, that one squirrel (my personal favorite), will come nosing around my feet and looking up at me with plaintive eyes.  Yes, it makes you chuckle, and … yes, it is just like when your child, or a beloved pet, wants attention and cannot wait a minute longer ‘til you are finished doing something.  “Pay attention to me now!” is what he seems to say.  “Okay already!” is what I want to say, and sometimes do.  Oh, all right … I admit that I’m such a soft touch sometimes.

But, there are others, not just me, that delight in, and are enamored by, the squirrel who likes to frequent the blue metal bench, as this chalk rendition of my little furry friend appeared on the perimeter path right across from the same bench.  I’m sure that you, just like me, recognize the “chalking” resemblance to this little guy.

I love seeing children’s chalk-art drawings.  It takes me back to some school projects done in elementary school, which now repose in an old scrapbook at the bottom of a closet.  Those neatly lettered and carefully crayoned “stories” as only a child can tell them will be dug out one day and digitized to be displayed in this forum.  (Well, aren’t you all lucky.)

Hmm – perhaps that should be my next project (after I clean out the car, then the garage, plus pull weeds).  On second thought, that sounds like a good Winter project to me … hunkering down in the house while the snow is softly falling outside, and remembering, then recounting, a wonderfully simpler time.

I stepped outside expecting the humidity to hit me like a ton of bricks, but it wasn’t bad at all.  As I hurried along to my destination, the breeze that was stirring the leaves on the trees, similarly was airing out my brain as well.  An additional bonus, was the gray skies and lack of sun that kept me from getting heated up even before I reached Council Point Park.

But, just before I stepped outside, I was tying up my walking shoes on the cellarway steps, and heard birds cheeping and twittering close by.  I mean REALLY close by.  I finished tying my shoes and threw open the door, while wondering what mayhem and mischief was happening on the other side of the door.  At eye level, through the screen door, I saw nothing … until I looked down, and was greeted by at least a dozen sparrows lined up neatly in a row along the sidewalk.  Simultaneously they turned their heads to look at me.  What in the world?  I opened the screen door and said “shoo!” like one would shout at a stray cat that languished too long by their door while clamoring to get inside.  “Shoo!” apparently worked, because in record time, they all flew up into the air and were gone from sight.  Now, I’ve seen a slew of sparrows line up along the chain link fence, but this was new to me.

I walked down the sidewalk, still ruminating about those sparrows, and was half tempted to double-back and peek around the corner to see if they returned, but I just kept on going.

The usual crowd was at the Park and “good morning” peppered the exchanges along the perimeter path.  I was dismayed to see the first reddish-colored leaves of 2017 on one of the small memorial maple trees.  I think this particular premature sign of Autumn’s arrival, plus the  recent lack of rain, seem to be taking its toll on some of the larger trees around the Park, which already have crispy brown leaves scattered beneath them.  (Please let’s not rush Fall, which a few mouse clicks and a visit to https://days told me the Autumnal Equinox is September 22^nd – still 56 days away!)

And, on this subject of trees, I have to share photos of this majestic Weeping Willow tree that occupies a large portion in the backyard of a corner house on Emmons Boulevard.  When I stroll along the side street, the tree is so large, that the branches touch the ground and it gives you the impression that you are walking beneath a huge green canopy.  Just the smallest breeze causes those wispy stems and narrow leaves to appear to shimmy back and forth.  That willow tree’s swaying motion reminds me of the adage that people should handle adversity like the willow tree … simply bend with the wind.

Today I added another four miles toward my goal, and the promise of a wonderful weather weekend shall make the steps plentiful then as well.

The beautiful Summer flowers are at their peak right now.  I really enjoy seeing those pretty pink and purple blooms spilling out of baskets and porch pots.  My head is constantly swirling around as I walk through the neighborhoods to check out the landscape and creative design that people have in their gardens.

Above is a photo from a home I pass daily.  Their front yard is filled with a variety of whimsical flower containers, but I especially like this flower power tricycle.  I took this picture about a month ago, and then spoke to the owners of the home a few weeks later, when they gave me a tour of their backyard, which is even more spectacular.  I was there about an hour and took a ton of photos which I’ll feature in future blog posts, but I love this hot pink trike with the vibrant flowers – now that’s what I call “flower power”!

Yesterday’s weather was just exquisite and our weekend weather is supposed to mirror Tuesday’s sunny day which was devoid of humidity and perfect in every way.  That heat and humidity crept in a bit this morning and I felt it as I walked down to Council Point Park.  I took that shorter route again and commiserated with a homeowner who had a perfectly manicured lawn for years … note that I said “had” because the Pagel Avenue construction project did a number on that perfect lawn.  The City has completed the project after nearly a year, and a landscape company came along and seeded, laid straw and then put a chicken-wire-type barrier over top of all that.  The landscape company also uses a huge water barrel on the back of their truck and they spray the newly seeded lawns daily.  I’ll be interested to see if that seed takes and I’m sure the birds have already tried to peck through the barrier to get at the seeds and had some frustration as it is “birdproof” for sure.

There were a lot of people walking along the trail at Council Point Park this morning, plus three bicyclists (without any blooms on their bikes I might add).  A young man was walking a pace or two in front of me and to my left.  He had his head down, arms bent at the elbows and moving them in a back-and-forth motion while he walked.  All the while he was huffing and puffing as he took long strides.  I heard him before he passed me up. So, I put my foot power to the pathway as well, and, just for the heck of it, I increased my speed to stay neck-in-neck with him for nearly the entire lap.  He was intent on his goal I guess, because he said nothing at all to me, so … when I departed the trail and headed for the parking lot, I turned to him and said “well, this horse race has been great fun, but I turn off here pardner” and off I went.

While walking home I passed a mini milestone.  I’ve now walked 455 miles in 2017 which leaves me a measly 300 more miles to complete my goal and beat my 2016 mileage.  With five months to go, I think that is doable, don’t you?

I might need to find myself some new weather gurus, because, just before I departed on my walk this morning, I know I clearly heard these weather descriptions being uttered:  “hot” and “humid” NOT “breezy” and “cool”.  It really doesn’t matter that the weather folks slipped up, since that breath of refreshing air felt delightful as I made my way down to Council Point Park.

The sun hid behind the clouds until I was halfway through the first loop, then suddenly it slipped out from that darkish mass of clouds, and there it was, shining down, bathing the Park in a soft and warm glow.

This is my kind of Summer weather, even if it is only here today and tomorrow.  It sure was nice to arrive home after my walk without beads of sweat trickling down my face, or clothes feeling like they were sticking to me.

I can’t believe it is the last week of July already.  It is time to stop and enjoy Summer before it completely slips away.  I have even noticed the sun rising later.  This morning, I looked out the front door at 6:00 a.m. and it was still dark.  It seems it was just a handful of days ago, that the sun was filtering through the blinds long before I put on the 6:00 a.m. news.

I am not enamored with the hot and humid weather and I’m sure I’m not the only human protesting this surge of sultry temps.  I’ve also been surprised at the lack of butterflies that are usually more abundant when the temperatures rise.

So, when I saw this pretty Tiger Swallowtail butterfly flitting by me just a few yards away from the perimeter path, I sure took notice.  Within seconds, I took the camera out of the case and hurried over to get a better view, and take a photo of it if possible.  Though I had hurried to hone in on this beauty, the butterfly took its good old sweet time, darting around the burdock, then hovering here and there.  I watched its delicate form as it gently nestled into the Queen Anne’s Lace, then it quickly took flight once again, alighting, then burrowing down in some periwinkle-colored chicory.

I stood there, patiently biding my time, until this butterfly came to rest on some prickly burrs.  “Be careful!” I wanted to say as it slowly settled down onto a burr.

I am sure there was not an ounce of nectar for it to sip on, but it lingered there for the  longest time.  I took several shots of this fragile creature, concerned it might vanish into thin air before I could zoom in on it (which I finally did successfully, as you can see above.)

Usually those run-of-the-mill Cabbage White butterflies are found at the Park at the height of Summer, but seeing this Tiger Swallowtail was truly a treat, and made my morning complete.

I’ll leave you with this quote I saw a while ago and tucked away.  It seems to fit this blog post to a “T”:

Something precious is lost if we rush headlong into the details of life without pausing for a moment to pay homage to the mystery of life and the gift of another day. ~Kent Nerburn

… even when it is “Gratifying Green”.

The weekend is nearly over much to my chagrin (yours too I’m sure).

Unfortunately, Saturday started out soggy, putting a kibosh on the morning walk, but, it gave me time to get a head start on my basement painting project.

You may recall my unfortunate plumbing disaster in June where the pipe beneath the laundry tub corroded and fell apart.  Water was pooling beneath the tub and trickling toward the drain.  It was a sickening hot weekend and my A/C hose drains into the laundry tub.  That most-unfortunate event had me calling the plumber pronto.  While the plumber and his helper were here, I was told the basement drain was a little clogged, but he cleaned it out with a screwdriver and said it was good for now.  But, I decided to be proactive and have them clean it out properly.  This necessitated the use of a jackhammer to drill down two feet to completely clear the drain.

The basement floor is tiled and the jackhammer destroyed some of the tiles, so I was left with a donut-shaped mound of cement in the middle of the laundry room.  It looked pretty bad.  More tiles needed to be taken out to even it up before painting, resulting in a 4 X 4 foot bare-looking area.

I had to wait 30 days for the cement to completely cure, so, in the meantime I got all my supplies together.  First, I got paint chips and tried to match the pale green and beige-flecked tiles as best I could, so I picked a color that was a cross between sea salt and pastel green.  As you know, paint manufacturers have a multitude of colors available, and a corresponding, sometimes cutesy name for each hue.  The color I chose was “Gratifying Green”.

The clerk at the paint store recommended using a roller, but I said I preferred a brush as it was a relatively small area.  “No, you must use a roller to get a better result; a 4 ½-inch roller would be just perfect for your job” she said.   So, despite my protestations about preferring a brush, I left the store with not only my paint and masking tape, but a tray, roller frame and and a four-pack of roller covers.

In anticipation of this project, I was ruminating on how I was going to do this multiple-coat paint job.  Would I use a kneeling pad, or sit on a short stool?  Either way, my lack of flexibility and wild imagination, had me conjuring up several likely scenarios.  I pictured myself needing help to get back to a standing position since it was smack in the middle of the laundry room, especially if, God forbid, I should see a crawling insect zip past me and had no way to scramble to my feet quickly.

I grumbled about this impending project to my friend Evelyn, whose husband Tim is a professional interior/exterior painter.  She suggested I get a long-handled pole or jerry-rig a long stick to the handle of the roller.  “Good idea” I thought “why didn’t the clerk tell me to do this?”  (Probably because Evelyn and I are the same age and the Sherwin-Williams clerk was about twenty years old.)

Saturday morning’s weather was pretty ugly, but there I was, removing the stringy-yarn mop head from the handle to create a makeshift, long-handled roller frame pole.  Now, to bind the roller to the pole.  Well … old pantyhose didn’t work, and neither did half of the roll of masking tape that I bought to tape off the tile floor for the painting project, so … I decided just to bend over and roll the paint on that way.

Problem solved.

Now, others in the past tried their best to persuade me to use a roller instead of  a brush for a painting project, and I merely  brushed off their comments.  I once repainted the garage door with two coats of paint, with half the neighbors stopping by to tell me that had I used a roller, I would be sitting and sipping a cold drink, not to mention salvaging most of my long holiday weekend.

But, this time I was willing to give it the old college try.

Okay, I’ll concede – they were right.  I was finished that 4 X 4 foot project in record time.  I only had to take a small, spongy gizmo to apply the paint around the metal drain area.  Then, I could have a snack and busy myself with housework upstairs until I could return for the second coat after about six hours’ drying time.

Except first, I needed to take the roller off the frame.

How difficult could that be, right?

I struggled with it, pulling, pushing and prodding the ^%$# thing to extricate that nappy object from the roller frame.  I was wearing vinyl gloves to keep my hands from turning  a pale shade of green, so I WAS able to grip the roller tight to pull it off.  But, nope, it was stuck on there.  No amount of tugging and no magic button would release the roller from the frame.

Grrrrr.

Well, as Kermit the Frog would bemoan “it’s not easy bein’ green” and, though I realize that I was really “green” about roller painting, this was ridiculous!

I must admit a few choice words for the people who suggested using a roller, as well as the manufacturer of the handle and roller itself escaped my mouth.

Next, I tried rinsing that nappy roller under the warm water, thinking I could grab it with my ungloved hand, but all that did was send paint splats all over the wall, floor and into the laundry tub.

I threw the contraption in the trash, vowing next time to listen to myself.

So, I got two coats of paint applied yesterday and was downstairs today at 5:15 a.m. applying coat number three.  I don’t care if it was a slow and rather painstaking process, I told myself “I’ve got this!”

I peeled off my vinyl gloves and hurried upstairs for coffee and breakfast, to get going on a walk.  I took the car and drove to the Park so I could walk two complete laps, then cool off in the car when I finished.  There was a bit of a breeze and it was tolerable so the car and I both got four miles today.

While I walked in the Park, someone had already “rocked the Park” as evident from this painted rock at the cement precipice.  Its ghastly looking “face” (also pictured above) mirrored mine right around the same time yesterday.

I put the finishing touches on my own paint job when I returned from my walk and declared it done.

By the way … I finished the remaining three coats with a one-inch brush that I had saved from a prior paint job.   I did not struggle unduly with this small brush and it looks just as nice as the first roller coating of paint.  (However, the fact that it took me twenty minutes to straighten up to my full 5 foot, 9 inches height at each successive painting job is another story.)

Life … sometimes we gotta just grrrrrin and bear it.

The color is glaringly bright in the dim-colored laundry room, but, I figure I had a 50/50 chance of matching the color to the tiles.  The paint swatch looked perfect, but in hindsight a beigey shade would have worked better.

Using Sherwin-Williams color “Easy Green” would have been a tad easier on the eyes.

Using a paint brush for the entire job would have been easier on the pocketbook, not to mention the nerves.

But, the color I picked was “Gratifying Green” and I am SO gratified this project is finished.

It was another sizzling Summer morning, and twenty-five or so hot and sweaty humans dotted the asphalt trail at Council Point Park.  This sultry “Ozone Action Day” didn’t stop any of us from getting in our daily exercise.

I’m on a roll because I saw my Park pal Donna, pictured above, for the third time this month.  Though we are practically neighbors, sometimes months can go by, until, like two ships passing at night, we meet up on the Park perimeter path again.

I guess you could say she rolled back into my morning routine a week or so ago.  I caught sight of her on the opposite side of loop #1, as she moved along the path at breakneck speed.  So, I had my camera ready for when she caught up with me.  Just as soon as I heard the whirring of the rollerblade wheels right behind me, I whirled around, and, when she waved, I said “Gotcha!” and snapped her picture.  I was not power walking, but clipping along fairly quickly, so Donna slowed down to accommodate my pace so we could carry on a conversation.  I still had to huff and puff a little to keep up with her, plus it was hot and humid as well.

We had not connected in a while because she has changed her schedule, opting instead to do her ‘blading or bike riding at the Park in the afternoon, so we caught up with each other’s news as we travelled along the perimeter path.

Today we were on the same schedule once again – get out and get ‘er done before the weather became too unbearable to be outdoors.  Afterward, we visited a little in the parking lot as we got ready to depart the Park.  Donna was feeling proud as she just rollerbladed eight miles in one hour.  I, too, was feeling pretty good since I took my car for a spin this morning and left it in the Park’s lot, then did four miles in the same amount of time.  We congratulated one another.  I told Donna that a few years ago I had set a goal of walking five miles in under one hour after hearing Governor Snyder completed the annual five-mile Mackinac Bridge Labor Day Walk in 55 minutes.  To date, that goal has not yet been met by Yours Truly.  Donna’s response was “he must have very long legs or take extra-large strides – that’s a lot of miles to cover in 55 minutes!”  I felt better when she said that as I was wondering if I would ever achieve that goal.

Goals became our next topic, and I said that as of today I would be at the 440-miles-walked-so-far-in-2017 mark and I needed to get to 755 miles to top last year’s mileage.  She waved me off saying “you’ve got plenty of time to do that” and, then she told me that she used to set goals with her biking and ‘blading, only to supersede them early in the year, so she set higher goals, but eventually gave it up because it took away all the fun of the exercise, if she was always trying to one-up herself.

That was some food for thought, so momentarily I decided that perhaps I needed to quit beating myself up for all the walks missed thus far in 2017, for circumstances beyond my control.

But, I still want to beat that 755-mile marker at year end nonetheless.  J

Our mouths were going a mile a minute and our legs sought to keep up.  Donna and I are the same age, and, since we are both advocates of exercise and healthy eating, our conversation was peppered with whole-grain bread finds, oatmeal topping tips, nutrition and exercise.  She regaled me with her tales of yoga because she practices yoga, plus takes and teaches classes in it as well.

I complained about feeling like a Mack truck ran over me after my Fourth of July weekend spent in the basement, so I asked Donna if she does stretches before ‘blading and biking, and she said “no – never” but she quickly added that doing yoga helps.  “Pfft yoga!” I said, then told her about the one yoga class I took eons ago.  Even though it was an introductory class,  I was the only novice, so I was hopelessly behind everyone else for every move or pose and just couldn’t catch up.  So, after the third class, I quit and got my money back.  In a show of bravado of how I could learn yoga and Pilates on my own, I took that refund money and hustled over to Best Buy where I bought a portable DVD player, a book entitled “Yoga For Dummies” and a couple of DVDs on yoga moves.   My mother, always an authority on how I routinely got enthralled with an idea and never totally followed through with it, cautioned me to return those items to Best Buy because I’d never use them.   I recall that my response to her suggestion, was I simply rolled my eyes at her in a dismissive manner, since I was confident I would excel at yoga … once I applied myself, that is.

Well, it was a long and hot Summer that year, so I deferred the yoga regimen to the Fall, then the Winter, then ….

It’s been years since I have even thought of that brief fascination with yoga, until my basement cleaning endeavor these past few weeks.

Indeed, I have found a treasure trove of items representing the various phases of my life – school, entertainment, travel, creativity and … exercise.

The “found” exercise equipment gave me a giggle and I shared that story with Donna, who also had to chuckle, because by the time you get to your sixties, you’ve done a few stupid things along the way that you don’t mind sharing with others because they can relate.

I have many Rubbermaid containers downstairs and went through each of them.  I discovered one such container, chock full of long-neglected exercise gear, and, I had to shake my head, then ask myself “what in the world were you keeping these for – your “golden years”?

Here was that DVD player, book, tapes, and even my yoga mat, all squeezed into a powder blue container that I had not opened in decades, and what do you know, they were all still shrink-wrapped as well.  Guess Mom had me pegged, didn’t she?

And, there were a few gym-like gems in that Rubbermaid container as well, like the colorful vinyl-coated barbells, in various weights.  Plus, soft weights that you strap on your wrists and ankles using Velcro closures.  How nice, but they weren’t doing much good stacked in this tub were they?

But wait … there’s more.

Tucked into the recesses of that Rubbermaid container, were my old, scuffed-up ballet slippers.  Yes, ballet was also a passing fancy in my life for a while, perhaps during my late twenties.  I  took ballet at a local studio, after being inspired by a couple of coworkers who shimmied into their scoop-neck leotards, tights and leg warmers to perform barre work in the ladies bathroom lounge every day on their lunch hour.   Using the back of the couch like a barre to brace themselves, and watching their moves in the horizontal mirror, these petite ballerina wannabees were the epitome of grace.  I was so inspired and in awe of them, that I got my money and gear together, and, under the tutelage of Bertha Ray, I, too, learned and practiced pirouettes, plies and barre work.  Every Tuesday night, I pulled my hair into a sleek bun, donned a leotard and tights, and showed up at Bertha’s Ray’s studio to become lithe, and achieve flexibility through the rigors of ballet.  Oh sure … those coworkers made it look effortless, but at 5 feet 9 inches tall, I towered over my teacher and felt like an Amazon next to her, not to mention that I was truly the exact opposite of graceful.  My toes ached in those teensy black ballet slippers and my shins cramped up, so, after a few months that novelty also wore off, and so ended the ballet lessons.

I recounted all these grand finds and their memories to Donna and she laughed.  We agreed that youth is a blessing, and, while growing old is sometimes fraught with illness, aches and pains, or even sadness or heartache, you become comfortable enough that you can laugh off those young and dumb episodes and even poke a little fun at yourself as well.