Friend Kim and new cute husband arrive soon. We will visit for a bit and them we are all going to go to Yellowstone. Yeah. I am ready for some R & R. I am tired of cooking and cleaning. I want to be waited on.
I am watching the dog. She ate a bunch of grass on which I had just sprayed weed killer. First time she has ever done that. I gave her dog treats. These make her thirsty and she drank a lot of water. I hope I diluted the stuff. Gad.
Okay off to make soup and inflate a bed. Hosta la veesta Babies.
Bea
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
"Life's Been Good To Me So Far"
In our little community church I am a rock star. I was the second keynote speaker at our women's retreat. In the morning I talked about the Western Christian tradition of meditation. In the afternoon I led two guided meditations. I was a hit. Only it wasn't me. Yes I studied for two weeks. Yes this is a subject about which I am very knowledgeable. Yes I have some little ability as a public speaker. But...when I got up to speak nothing came out like I had planned it. I don't even remember half of what I said. I opened my mouth and out it flowed. I think I gave a sermon. People laughed and then they cried. It was amazing, for all of us.
I have been asking God to use me. I never expected He would latch onto my gift of gab. Yes, I am a talker. Always have been. I have thought of it as a curse. Like my fat. The plump woman who could not keep her mouth shut. Believe me when I tell you I say some of the dumbest things known to woman kind. And people listen to and believe me. They always have. I have frequently felt like a big ole fakey manipulator. I know I can be persuasive. I thought using this gift was LYING. And sometimes it has been. I can't just leave the obvious alone. I have to jazz it up a bit. I love adjectives and adverbs. They contain the color of life. I long to present life with more pathos, gravity, excitement and humor than it actually contains. I have been told this gift was LYING. And sometimes it has been. When I talk or write I always try to have a governor on my mind/mouth. It is frustrating.
When I got up to talk something happened to me. The governor came off. I was free. Soaringly, leapingly free. All the superlatives in my mind and mouth were/are not enough to describe God. Telling people about God's love and having them listen to and believe me felt TRUE. Suddenly I was completely what God created me to be. In that moment I came to myself. In God. I was not self conscious. I was God conscious. What gracious liberty I was given. I am grateful. So grateful.
If you have been reading for a while you know what a burden my self is to me. It is too fat. It is too timid. It is too arrogant. It is too undisciplined. It is too judgemental. It is too self depreciating (tee-hee). I have longed to be shed of it. Food for me offered/s the release. I know this is not what God has in mind when the Bible talks about "dying unto self." We are meant to love ourselves as we love others so dying unto self cannot mean abandoning my self with addictions. I think I had a taste of what it means to die unto self. My willingness to be used by God lit up my God conscious enough to fade out my self conscious. I realize I have just described what happens during meditation. Amazing.
Okay back down to earth. I am having trouble with the praise I am receiving. Five women surrounded me in a restaurant yesterday with praises. I didn't know how to respond. I know it wasn't me. God came through me. So I said that. It is all I can say.
Take care, Love Lynn
I have been asking God to use me. I never expected He would latch onto my gift of gab. Yes, I am a talker. Always have been. I have thought of it as a curse. Like my fat. The plump woman who could not keep her mouth shut. Believe me when I tell you I say some of the dumbest things known to woman kind. And people listen to and believe me. They always have. I have frequently felt like a big ole fakey manipulator. I know I can be persuasive. I thought using this gift was LYING. And sometimes it has been. I can't just leave the obvious alone. I have to jazz it up a bit. I love adjectives and adverbs. They contain the color of life. I long to present life with more pathos, gravity, excitement and humor than it actually contains. I have been told this gift was LYING. And sometimes it has been. When I talk or write I always try to have a governor on my mind/mouth. It is frustrating.
When I got up to talk something happened to me. The governor came off. I was free. Soaringly, leapingly free. All the superlatives in my mind and mouth were/are not enough to describe God. Telling people about God's love and having them listen to and believe me felt TRUE. Suddenly I was completely what God created me to be. In that moment I came to myself. In God. I was not self conscious. I was God conscious. What gracious liberty I was given. I am grateful. So grateful.
If you have been reading for a while you know what a burden my self is to me. It is too fat. It is too timid. It is too arrogant. It is too undisciplined. It is too judgemental. It is too self depreciating (tee-hee). I have longed to be shed of it. Food for me offered/s the release. I know this is not what God has in mind when the Bible talks about "dying unto self." We are meant to love ourselves as we love others so dying unto self cannot mean abandoning my self with addictions. I think I had a taste of what it means to die unto self. My willingness to be used by God lit up my God conscious enough to fade out my self conscious. I realize I have just described what happens during meditation. Amazing.
Okay back down to earth. I am having trouble with the praise I am receiving. Five women surrounded me in a restaurant yesterday with praises. I didn't know how to respond. I know it wasn't me. God came through me. So I said that. It is all I can say.
Take care, Love Lynn
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
The Great Septic Tank Hunt
Life here is just dandy. We found the septic tank and had it pumped out this morning. I now know way more about cesspools, leech fields, septic tanks and vaults than any nice woman should be forced to learn.
I have never lived in a house with a septic tank. I just figured plumbing was plumbing. You pushed the handle and woosh, everything worked. I have been living in a fool's paradise, with a flush toilet. Spring/summer cleaning needed done. I did it. I washed everything in the house not nailed down. A couple of weeks passed. We had guests. They took showers and needed laundry done. No problemo, right? Wrong. Problems, big problems. Apparently the extra water and soap I used doing massive amounts of laundry, and then cleaning house like a mad woman for company, killed off the few bacteria still left alive in our system. And our system was full. Over full it turns out. The guests put stress on the failing system, and it failed. Hello hotel. Gad, how embarrassing.
Okay so we needed the system pumped out, no problem right? Problemo. No one knew where the septic tank was. The information we were given when we bought the house was incorrect. In fact we were outright lied to. We were told the system was on the southeast corner of the house and had been pumped out three years ago. We plunged rebar in the lawn (per advise of the septic company) looking for the tank until we were about dead. We found enough big rocks to build a nice size fireplace, but no tank. I called the county planning office. Mistake. According to their records our old house did not have a septic tank it had a cesspool and, "Cesspools were outlawed in this county in 1981 and you will have to put in a septic tank. We're not sure where you'll put the tank as the only place for it on your small lot is too close to your water line." What is a cesspool you ask? According to the county planner, "A cesspool is a privy without a top. It is a big hole lined with railroad ties and filled with rocks. Railroad ties are placed over the cavern and covered with dirt. The main drain from the house runs into it. The old timers always planted two lilac bushes over the top of it. These were good little systems and can work for years. But when they fail you have to back fill them and put in a septic tank. Do you have any big old thriving lilacs side by side?" Yes, we do. Probably at least fifteen feet high. Shit. No pun intended.
Mark and I went outside and stared at our bushes. They are a wonder. No wonder. We wondered what to do. Mark had a brainstorm, we would call the former owner. We would ask him what exactly he had had pumped out just before we bought the house, and where this pumping had taken place. Mistake. The former owner was jovial and glad to hear from us. "I see you are fixing up that little rental I sold you" he said "it looks great." Where is the septic tank you had pumped out just before we bought the property we asked. "I never pumped out anything" he said "I think it has a cesspool." We told him his real estate agent had put in writing that the house had a septic tank on the southeast corner. He laughed. "That guy" he said "he could sell wool to sheep." Mark hung up on him. We stared at each other some more. How much money do we have in the savings account he asked. Not enough.
I am not sure how this would have turned out if the neighbor had not come over a couple of days ago while we were outside. He volunteered to lend us his lawn aerator. Said it was much more effective than doing it by hand. (The rebar you know.) We told him our problem. "The septic tank is right next to the garage" he said "Howard put it in in 1996." Who is Howard we asked? Turns out he owned the house before the former owner. "I can show you where the tank is and where the pump out lid is." And he did. We called Howard. The system had NEVER been pumped out. Fourteen years is some sort of record.
This is the end of the great septic tank hunt. We have an empty vault, we met some nice people and we know why our lilac bushes are the best in the neighborhood. All's well that ends well.
Love Bea
I have never lived in a house with a septic tank. I just figured plumbing was plumbing. You pushed the handle and woosh, everything worked. I have been living in a fool's paradise, with a flush toilet. Spring/summer cleaning needed done. I did it. I washed everything in the house not nailed down. A couple of weeks passed. We had guests. They took showers and needed laundry done. No problemo, right? Wrong. Problems, big problems. Apparently the extra water and soap I used doing massive amounts of laundry, and then cleaning house like a mad woman for company, killed off the few bacteria still left alive in our system. And our system was full. Over full it turns out. The guests put stress on the failing system, and it failed. Hello hotel. Gad, how embarrassing.
Okay so we needed the system pumped out, no problem right? Problemo. No one knew where the septic tank was. The information we were given when we bought the house was incorrect. In fact we were outright lied to. We were told the system was on the southeast corner of the house and had been pumped out three years ago. We plunged rebar in the lawn (per advise of the septic company) looking for the tank until we were about dead. We found enough big rocks to build a nice size fireplace, but no tank. I called the county planning office. Mistake. According to their records our old house did not have a septic tank it had a cesspool and, "Cesspools were outlawed in this county in 1981 and you will have to put in a septic tank. We're not sure where you'll put the tank as the only place for it on your small lot is too close to your water line." What is a cesspool you ask? According to the county planner, "A cesspool is a privy without a top. It is a big hole lined with railroad ties and filled with rocks. Railroad ties are placed over the cavern and covered with dirt. The main drain from the house runs into it. The old timers always planted two lilac bushes over the top of it. These were good little systems and can work for years. But when they fail you have to back fill them and put in a septic tank. Do you have any big old thriving lilacs side by side?" Yes, we do. Probably at least fifteen feet high. Shit. No pun intended.
Mark and I went outside and stared at our bushes. They are a wonder. No wonder. We wondered what to do. Mark had a brainstorm, we would call the former owner. We would ask him what exactly he had had pumped out just before we bought the house, and where this pumping had taken place. Mistake. The former owner was jovial and glad to hear from us. "I see you are fixing up that little rental I sold you" he said "it looks great." Where is the septic tank you had pumped out just before we bought the property we asked. "I never pumped out anything" he said "I think it has a cesspool." We told him his real estate agent had put in writing that the house had a septic tank on the southeast corner. He laughed. "That guy" he said "he could sell wool to sheep." Mark hung up on him. We stared at each other some more. How much money do we have in the savings account he asked. Not enough.
I am not sure how this would have turned out if the neighbor had not come over a couple of days ago while we were outside. He volunteered to lend us his lawn aerator. Said it was much more effective than doing it by hand. (The rebar you know.) We told him our problem. "The septic tank is right next to the garage" he said "Howard put it in in 1996." Who is Howard we asked? Turns out he owned the house before the former owner. "I can show you where the tank is and where the pump out lid is." And he did. We called Howard. The system had NEVER been pumped out. Fourteen years is some sort of record.
This is the end of the great septic tank hunt. We have an empty vault, we met some nice people and we know why our lilac bushes are the best in the neighborhood. All's well that ends well.
Love Bea
Monday, July 19, 2010
Making the Best of a Bad Situation
It is hotter than hell up here. We are having company this weekend and I am supposed to be cleaning the upstairs. Mark's office is about a foot deep in junk and this is where the guests will sleep. I am stalled. Phooey.
We got back from our latest adventure a week ago. I am finally recovered. Another thousand miles on the car in a few days just about killed me, but we had a great time. We met Mark's family in Sheridan and then all went up to his sister's wedding in Livingston MT. The wedding was at a rented church camp way up in the mountains. We were not prepared for how "way up" it was going to be and ran out of gas. Mark's sister (not the one getting married) thought it a great adventure. His wife thought it was a pain in the ass. Thank God the cell phone worked in between the two huge mountains and we were rescued.
The sister getting married was having her own adventure while we were stranded on the mountainside in the blazing sun. Her wedding dress didn't fit. And when I say "didn't fit" think vital parts of her anatomy hanging out. A casual wedding was planned and the bride purchased her turquoise and tan gauzy sundress in Florida four months ago. Four months and about thirty-five or forty pounds ago. The top of the long flowing dress did not begin to cover her breasts and the strap ties would not hook in the back. A crisis ensued. How to cover the bride's boobs? The bride began crying and did not stop for an hour. Eventually (we gas less ones missed most of this) the new sister-in-law saved the day. First she told the bride to shut up. Told her she was not "a fat slob" and that ALL brides looked beautiful. Told her she had a choice, she could ruin her wedding day over a "non-essential" or she could "suck it up and smile." Then the sister-in-law sent an SOS around the camp to all the other cabins looking for some sort of decorative pin and a half slip. Miracle of miracles, one woman had a big turquoise pin and another had a cream colored half slip. Why she had a half slip for a camping expedition was never fully explained. Anyway the sister-in-law took the outer skirt and gathered it up in the front. She pulled this extra material up and fanned it out over the brides chest and pinned the whole frothy swath in front at the empire waist. Voila, a ruffle over the offending boobs. She then tied the ties around the bride's neck making a halter top. The bride put on the half slip and the see through gauze underskirt became wedding approved. The bride looked in the mirror and said, "I look like I'm pregnant" and began to cry again. Sister-in-law stepped in. "Stop that. This is what you look like. My brother knows what you look like. He likes it. Who else matters?" Who indeed? The bride cheered up, giggled in fact, and we had a wedding.
Running out of gas, an ill fitting wedding dress, and the varying responses set me to thinking. It is all about how you respond to things. It's a choice. It is a chance to respond negatively or positively. I can change my feelings with my response. Or if not, at least I don't have to make everyone around me miserable.
I learned something valuable.
Take care, Bea
P.S. Chico Hot Springs was a treat. We stayed in the old lodge. Next time we will stay in the cabins overlooking the valley. We had one of the best dinners I have ever had. The flaming frozen chocolate orange was worth the price of the meal. Bye
We got back from our latest adventure a week ago. I am finally recovered. Another thousand miles on the car in a few days just about killed me, but we had a great time. We met Mark's family in Sheridan and then all went up to his sister's wedding in Livingston MT. The wedding was at a rented church camp way up in the mountains. We were not prepared for how "way up" it was going to be and ran out of gas. Mark's sister (not the one getting married) thought it a great adventure. His wife thought it was a pain in the ass. Thank God the cell phone worked in between the two huge mountains and we were rescued.
The sister getting married was having her own adventure while we were stranded on the mountainside in the blazing sun. Her wedding dress didn't fit. And when I say "didn't fit" think vital parts of her anatomy hanging out. A casual wedding was planned and the bride purchased her turquoise and tan gauzy sundress in Florida four months ago. Four months and about thirty-five or forty pounds ago. The top of the long flowing dress did not begin to cover her breasts and the strap ties would not hook in the back. A crisis ensued. How to cover the bride's boobs? The bride began crying and did not stop for an hour. Eventually (we gas less ones missed most of this) the new sister-in-law saved the day. First she told the bride to shut up. Told her she was not "a fat slob" and that ALL brides looked beautiful. Told her she had a choice, she could ruin her wedding day over a "non-essential" or she could "suck it up and smile." Then the sister-in-law sent an SOS around the camp to all the other cabins looking for some sort of decorative pin and a half slip. Miracle of miracles, one woman had a big turquoise pin and another had a cream colored half slip. Why she had a half slip for a camping expedition was never fully explained. Anyway the sister-in-law took the outer skirt and gathered it up in the front. She pulled this extra material up and fanned it out over the brides chest and pinned the whole frothy swath in front at the empire waist. Voila, a ruffle over the offending boobs. She then tied the ties around the bride's neck making a halter top. The bride put on the half slip and the see through gauze underskirt became wedding approved. The bride looked in the mirror and said, "I look like I'm pregnant" and began to cry again. Sister-in-law stepped in. "Stop that. This is what you look like. My brother knows what you look like. He likes it. Who else matters?" Who indeed? The bride cheered up, giggled in fact, and we had a wedding.
Running out of gas, an ill fitting wedding dress, and the varying responses set me to thinking. It is all about how you respond to things. It's a choice. It is a chance to respond negatively or positively. I can change my feelings with my response. Or if not, at least I don't have to make everyone around me miserable.
I learned something valuable.
Take care, Bea
P.S. Chico Hot Springs was a treat. We stayed in the old lodge. Next time we will stay in the cabins overlooking the valley. We had one of the best dinners I have ever had. The flaming frozen chocolate orange was worth the price of the meal. Bye
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Rushing
We were gone half of last week and we are leaving again on Friday. I am stressed out about trying to get up and running for summer and all this travel is driving me nuts.
I finally got the gigantic flower bed planted (60 plants) and also window boxes and barrels at front step. My five roses in barrels died. Wayyyyy to much rain. In their places I have planted rhubarb, strawberries, a tomato plant, lavender and day lilies. Over the weekend we got out the patio furniture and grill and furnished the deck. Mark has killed the weeds in the lawn twice. They are thriving. I will drag out the hoses tonight to start watering. I have half the storm windows out. I have half the windows washed on the inside. I have half the curtains washed, ironed and rehung. I also still have to wash throw rugs, our bed comforter and the living room slip covers. It is so good to hang stuff on the line. (My small old beloved dryer will not accommodate much more than clothing.) Then I will start cleaning the house. First project is to shampoo the rug. Then I will wash walls in the kitchen. Phooey.
Mark said the other day that we live in winter country. He is so right. Being holed up in a house for eight months makes us all crazy come summer. We go like gangbusters for July, August and September and then it is time for winter again. If you don't hit the ground running at the end of June, poof, summer is gone. I have to say, it is bea-uuu-tiful here right now. Spring flowers and blinding green grass. This won't last long. It was 90 degrees earlier today. In a few days the grass will start turning brown. Oh and the mosquitoes. They flew the dog around the yard last eve. She was not amused.
I quit drastic for diet. Turns out the equivalent of Medifast does not mesh with my constitution. I need MUCH, MUCH more fiber and protein. Gad. That protein powder went in like paste and came out like cement. Holy moly. My digestive system may never return to normal. I was thrilled to eat oatmeal and blueberries Sunday morning. I am fairly okay with my weight at present. We will see how I am after this weekend. I have to go to a wedding. I hope to not focus on my fat and to enjoy the people around me. Some of the folks are real judgemental. Say a prayer for me to just let all the comments roll off, or to be brave enough to respond in kind. I am getting my toenails touched up tomorrow. Maybe I will just flash those at the "skinny" police.
Okay have to run. I need to make reservations at Chico Hot Springs and at the dog resort (jail).
Take care. Love Bea
I finally got the gigantic flower bed planted (60 plants) and also window boxes and barrels at front step. My five roses in barrels died. Wayyyyy to much rain. In their places I have planted rhubarb, strawberries, a tomato plant, lavender and day lilies. Over the weekend we got out the patio furniture and grill and furnished the deck. Mark has killed the weeds in the lawn twice. They are thriving. I will drag out the hoses tonight to start watering. I have half the storm windows out. I have half the windows washed on the inside. I have half the curtains washed, ironed and rehung. I also still have to wash throw rugs, our bed comforter and the living room slip covers. It is so good to hang stuff on the line. (My small old beloved dryer will not accommodate much more than clothing.) Then I will start cleaning the house. First project is to shampoo the rug. Then I will wash walls in the kitchen. Phooey.
Mark said the other day that we live in winter country. He is so right. Being holed up in a house for eight months makes us all crazy come summer. We go like gangbusters for July, August and September and then it is time for winter again. If you don't hit the ground running at the end of June, poof, summer is gone. I have to say, it is bea-uuu-tiful here right now. Spring flowers and blinding green grass. This won't last long. It was 90 degrees earlier today. In a few days the grass will start turning brown. Oh and the mosquitoes. They flew the dog around the yard last eve. She was not amused.
I quit drastic for diet. Turns out the equivalent of Medifast does not mesh with my constitution. I need MUCH, MUCH more fiber and protein. Gad. That protein powder went in like paste and came out like cement. Holy moly. My digestive system may never return to normal. I was thrilled to eat oatmeal and blueberries Sunday morning. I am fairly okay with my weight at present. We will see how I am after this weekend. I have to go to a wedding. I hope to not focus on my fat and to enjoy the people around me. Some of the folks are real judgemental. Say a prayer for me to just let all the comments roll off, or to be brave enough to respond in kind. I am getting my toenails touched up tomorrow. Maybe I will just flash those at the "skinny" police.
Okay have to run. I need to make reservations at Chico Hot Springs and at the dog resort (jail).
Take care. Love Bea
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Maintenance
I am alive again. Thank You God.
Looks like Mark is going to get to keep his job and current salary. Our health insurance may be cut in half. The county budget is tight but NO ONE was laid off. The county attorney budget short falls were finally found to have been due to Mark's former boss's mismanagement and not Mark's. His good name is clear again. We are all grateful.
Okay, in the past week I have joined Curves, gone to yoga, had a chiropractic adjustment, had my teeth cleaned, gone to coffee with the girls, had my hair cut and dyed, had my legs waxed and started Drastic with diet.
I have not been spending any money for a couple of months. Fear you know. Well, getting all of the above done was not cheap and sort of sent me into sticker shock and guilt. No job you know. I always feel bad about spending money on my body when I am not the one earning the salary. I told Mark I felt guilty about spending money on myself and did he want to do something nice for himself. He promptly said he wanted to buy a $70 computer game. I said, "No I mean something nice for your body. Like I have been doing. Pampering yourself." He looked at me like I had lost my mind. "What do you mean pampering? All that stuff is just routine maintenance." Hold the phone Nellie. "Routine maintenance?" Getting your legs waxed? We had a real enlightening conversation after that. Turns out my husband wants me to do girly stuff and look girly. He asked my why I had quit painting my toenails! I was poleaxed.
My female relatives and church taught me to believe anything more than clean and neat for a woman was the apex of vanity and selfishness. The feminists taught me to devalue anything smacking of "feminine wiles." Sexual abuse taught me to hate my body, so why be nice to it or decorate it. I guess I just assumed Mark shared my views. Gad. I feel liberated. Is that not hilarious? After all that feminist crap I feel liberated when "given permission" to treasure my body and become a "high maintenance" chick. This could get damn interesting.
Take care. I love you all. Lynn
Looks like Mark is going to get to keep his job and current salary. Our health insurance may be cut in half. The county budget is tight but NO ONE was laid off. The county attorney budget short falls were finally found to have been due to Mark's former boss's mismanagement and not Mark's. His good name is clear again. We are all grateful.
Okay, in the past week I have joined Curves, gone to yoga, had a chiropractic adjustment, had my teeth cleaned, gone to coffee with the girls, had my hair cut and dyed, had my legs waxed and started Drastic with diet.
I have not been spending any money for a couple of months. Fear you know. Well, getting all of the above done was not cheap and sort of sent me into sticker shock and guilt. No job you know. I always feel bad about spending money on my body when I am not the one earning the salary. I told Mark I felt guilty about spending money on myself and did he want to do something nice for himself. He promptly said he wanted to buy a $70 computer game. I said, "No I mean something nice for your body. Like I have been doing. Pampering yourself." He looked at me like I had lost my mind. "What do you mean pampering? All that stuff is just routine maintenance." Hold the phone Nellie. "Routine maintenance?" Getting your legs waxed? We had a real enlightening conversation after that. Turns out my husband wants me to do girly stuff and look girly. He asked my why I had quit painting my toenails! I was poleaxed.
My female relatives and church taught me to believe anything more than clean and neat for a woman was the apex of vanity and selfishness. The feminists taught me to devalue anything smacking of "feminine wiles." Sexual abuse taught me to hate my body, so why be nice to it or decorate it. I guess I just assumed Mark shared my views. Gad. I feel liberated. Is that not hilarious? After all that feminist crap I feel liberated when "given permission" to treasure my body and become a "high maintenance" chick. This could get damn interesting.
Take care. I love you all. Lynn
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Rain
I think I am growing moss on my north side. The dog is so bored she just stares at me and whines. My roses are a sickly yellowish color. I am doubling up on my Vitamin D to counteract the gloom. The pigs next door are traveling around on water wings. The ducks laugh all day. And still it rains.
On the brighter side, a robin has moved into our car port rafters. She built a nice cozy nest directly over the driver side of our car. She refuses to vacate the nest so we are doing this sort of hula maneuver to enter and exit the car. Very tricky that. I will be glad when the babies are born and reared. It is fun to greet her each time I open the back door. On a less happy note, voles have moved into our basement. They tunneled around a basement window and took up residence in our old tax returns. Yuck. Mouse poops and urine all over everything. The cat ignores them. We plugged up the holes during a hiatus in the downpour and now just have to clean everything up. I refuse to do it alone so it will have to wait until the weekend. We put out traps. Nothing so far. I hope they moved out before we walled them in with Quick-Crete.
Still no job news. Turns out everyone in county government is nervous. I am only worrying about it from seven to eight p.m. every other day. Seems to be working.
On the fat front...who gives a rip? I am not gaining so I am not worrying. I started yoga again.
Yoga Fran came back from Florida. Gad am I stiff. It is great to start stretching again. I also bought some of those new "Sk*tchers" shoes. Thought they would be good for my posture and would give me a better workout while I walked. Not so much. I have plantar fascitis so bad I can hardly walk. I am not sure my feet will ever get back to normal. Those darn shoes were very expensive to be so lethal. I have a friend who is going to try to sell them for me on e-bay. I have worn them four times. I am going broke buying lineament for my feet. I also bought some heel pads for my shoes. Yoga Fran has me doing some stretches for my feet and ankles. I hope something works. I walk like and old lady.
I have been entertaining. Let me rephrase that. We have had two groups of people over for dinner. Was fun. I have figured out that four guests plus us is the ideal number. The house will seat them comfortably and food and dishes are not a chore. If it ever stops raining we will stain the deck, get the furniture out and entertain out there. I wish summer would arrive. Okay that's all. See you next month.
Love Bea
On the brighter side, a robin has moved into our car port rafters. She built a nice cozy nest directly over the driver side of our car. She refuses to vacate the nest so we are doing this sort of hula maneuver to enter and exit the car. Very tricky that. I will be glad when the babies are born and reared. It is fun to greet her each time I open the back door. On a less happy note, voles have moved into our basement. They tunneled around a basement window and took up residence in our old tax returns. Yuck. Mouse poops and urine all over everything. The cat ignores them. We plugged up the holes during a hiatus in the downpour and now just have to clean everything up. I refuse to do it alone so it will have to wait until the weekend. We put out traps. Nothing so far. I hope they moved out before we walled them in with Quick-Crete.
Still no job news. Turns out everyone in county government is nervous. I am only worrying about it from seven to eight p.m. every other day. Seems to be working.
On the fat front...who gives a rip? I am not gaining so I am not worrying. I started yoga again.
Yoga Fran came back from Florida. Gad am I stiff. It is great to start stretching again. I also bought some of those new "Sk*tchers" shoes. Thought they would be good for my posture and would give me a better workout while I walked. Not so much. I have plantar fascitis so bad I can hardly walk. I am not sure my feet will ever get back to normal. Those darn shoes were very expensive to be so lethal. I have a friend who is going to try to sell them for me on e-bay. I have worn them four times. I am going broke buying lineament for my feet. I also bought some heel pads for my shoes. Yoga Fran has me doing some stretches for my feet and ankles. I hope something works. I walk like and old lady.
I have been entertaining. Let me rephrase that. We have had two groups of people over for dinner. Was fun. I have figured out that four guests plus us is the ideal number. The house will seat them comfortably and food and dishes are not a chore. If it ever stops raining we will stain the deck, get the furniture out and entertain out there. I wish summer would arrive. Okay that's all. See you next month.
Love Bea
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