01/25/14 This Is The Day…


This is the day I think cabin fever might overtake me and I may commit a crime.

This is the day I might sit down and post a new blog for the first time in months.

This is the day one of my 3 extraordinarily irritating cats, (Mavis, Buddy and Omar) who are as bogged down as me by cabin fever, frigid temperatures and snow, might just drive me over the edge and I may commit a crime.

This is the day I work on my 2014 Bucket List, a project my minister Tim gives us every January, well, not 2014, but the bucket list part, and my mind refuses to come up with worthwhile words to fill in on the goals sheet. My goal today is to not go freaking insane!

This is the day I reflect that this crappy weather is a phase, just like everything else. It’ll pass, Spring will come, this will become just a memory.

This is the day a coworker of mine, Barb, has her funeral mass at a local church. She doesn’t get to be annoyed by anything today. She doesn’t have to listen to my squirrely rant or watch my eyes fill with tears because I’m so sad her end came the way it did. I went to her viewing last night in sweat clothes, because they were the only clean things I had. I nearly didn’t go, because one just doesn’t go to a funeral in sweats, but I thought, why not? Am I really going to let this silliness stop me from paying my respects. Is anyone really going to look at my bottom and have their day ruined by what’s covering my backside, or will they just be pleased I didn’t choose the alternative and go buck nekky?

This is the day, if I look further than my nose, that I might go outside and at least pick up the snow shovel. I think it’s to work on moving the snow, but maybe it’ll be to WHACK one of my cats if they don’t stop annoying me!

This is the day I’ll do a load of laundry, in case something life shatteringly important comes up, so I won’t have to face it in dirty sweat clothes.

This is the day I try to come up with something thought provoking to put before whoever reads this, but I got nothin’.

Yep, this is the day the Lord has made, I shall rejoice and be glad in it… and not commit a crime or whack a cat (though that part sounds appealing at the moment!) .

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08/28/13 I’m Still Alive – I Hope I Never Take That For Granted Again!!


Vin Diesel Riddick Standee 080813This is a post to tell myself and whoever’s reading this…. I don’t think I’ll take the saying about “appreciating today for tomorrow is not promised to me” for granted again.

August 8, 2013 I experienced what I thought was a heart attack, in all places, at a movie theatre, while I was doing a part time job of putting together a Vin Diesel “Riddick” standee. It would take a whole separate blog to adequately describe that night.

A heart attack, it wasn’t. Severe, massive Pulmonary Embolism saddle blood clot lodged in my lung with countless other little mutant clots riddled throughout my legs and lungs, it was. Forgive me for saying, “What the f**k?” to the doctor when he told me that. I don’t have blood clots, sir, you must have me confused with someone else. He didn’t. A stay in the i.c.u. for a few days followed by another few days on the 15th floor of the hospital gave me a lot of time to think about things.  There’s a part of me that’s still convinced this is all in my imagination, much like my favorite Robert Downey, Jr. daydreams…

but Denial only stretches so far. The part of me that can’t quite reconcile what I’ve been told about how many people ‘buy the farm’ when this happens, that part is still accepting that I’m alive for some purpose, I don’t really know what yet. It can’t just be to drive my family crazy! Maybe because there are still Robert Downey, Jr. films to be made and for me to watch! Maybe it’s some appointment with the divine and there are some things I need to do, I don’t know.

I’m still at home recovering, until these unnerving dizzy spells are under control. Part of me misses my job and coworkers like crazy. Part of me thinks I could get used to this lazy-piece-of-human-sitting-idly-watching-life-go-by gig. Not really, it’s driving me even squirrelier than I already am.

I have decided if I ever meet Vin Diesel, I will cheerfully tell him, “Son, you put me in the hospital!” I’m guessing he’s never heard THAT one before!

12/29/12 G.L.A.D. Chronicles – Deciding My Course


I’m taking a few days to think about my goals for 2013. This came up yesterday during lunch with friends Tim and Joanne.

Writing is at the top of my list. I want to study and learn how to write fiction. As much as I love to read fiction, it irks the snot out of me that when I try to write it, my mind goes woefully blank. I have a few unconventional study guides to try to rectify this frustrating situation. I can blame it all on Nancy Drew. I passionately read every adventure of hers that existed when I was young. I thought if I couldn’t be her, I’d at least like to write great mysteries. The only mystery I seem to write so far is whether I’ll make any progress with losing weight. As reviewed in Mysteries Weekly: She’s up, she’s down, her roller coaster weight-loss effort reads like the never-ending nightmare of “Will Government Solve The Fiscal Crisis Before We All Go Over The Cliff?” Actually, I probably WILL lose weight and keep it off before government solves anything!

Back to writing, I feel it’s time for quiet and learning. Read, study, homework, whatever it takes to see if there’s an exciting mystery in me willing to come out. In the meantime, I’m reading so many good authors work now. Some of the best I’ve seen are my fellow writers at www.fanstory.com They’re miles better than what I’ve viewed in the bookstores and on my local library shelves. Maybe that’s one reason I’m not so sure ‘being published’ is any true measure of a writer’s worth. I see published books that aren’t worthy of using for toilet tissue and I read unpublished authors’ writing that absolutely blow me away.

Another goal is to continue the work I started in 2012 of putting myself first. That remains an alien and sometimes guilt-producing notion with me. However, as my personal clock ticks and time on Earth grows shorter, I am left with the knowledge that I don’t have forever to get this thing called life right. If I don’t work on it now, who says I’ll be here tomorrow or next year to make it a priority? I may never be a size twelve, calm, rational, island of tranquility… who am I kidding? I’ll NEVER be that! But I can at least move toward a serene nature and away from a squirrel-on-speed self!

Something interesting I’ve noticed since the last blog… I received various responses to last week’s piece about looking at myself without clothes on. Every response came from a woman either: younger, slimmer, prettier, etc. than me. None expressed being ready to look at themselves in this way (in the mirror buck naked). I find this interesting and a statement of the baggage women carry. Compared to them, I am a human who resembles a Caucasian Shrek. Yet I found no judgement. It wasn’t about how I looked cosmetically. It was about acceptance of who I am. The odd thing is, when I put clothes on again that night, the judgement began to seep right in. I’ve decided the only answer for me is to move to one of those “Nekky Colonies”. Not a nudist colony. This would be a “Nekky Shrekkies” oasis. We’d look like animated movie characters, hence we’d all look quite normal! I think I’m on to something. 🙂

wpid-5754027156_1c88c839b8_o_thumb.jpg                                                                                                     shrek

12/20/12 G.L.A.D. Holiday Smorgasbord


Queen Porkunia, By Bill Seitz

Queen Porkunia, By Bill Seitz (Photo credit: elycefeliz)

So many things are going on in the world lately, one could be forgiven for wondering if the Mayans might be right! If so, I thought I’d post one more post before the big…. what…. what happens if it IS indeed it? I have no clue. I wasn’t too convinced the end might be near until the Twinkie nightmare (normally sensible people everywhere burst through doors of retail establishments to scarf up every Hostess product in sight, except, it seems, for the Blueberry Muffins. I saw a few boxes of the poor muffins sitting lonely as could be on shelves at Remke Biggs, very near their expiration date.) Another sign that the end might be near? I realized, in a most unexpected way, that I don’t hate myself anymore. I always felt I’d learn to like myself: a) when pigs flew (I’m in Cincinnati, pigs fly here. That was a bad choice of markers!), b) when I was pushing up daisies at the cemetery (meaning, I had died), or c) when the world ended. As I said, pigs DO fly in Cincinnati, I’m still upright and breathing, so the world must surely be nearing that apocalyptic day.

I pondered long and hard about whether to share the next bit with you, not sure if it made me a questionable person, or a repressed woman in a world with few limits anymore. The answer to that still eludes me, but a friend said my story might inspire other souls. My life-changing moment came about a few weeks ago. I wanted to recapture a feeling of freedom I got to experience this summer, freedom from a lot of emotional baggage I’d carried most of my life. This desire led me to question my appearance, avoiding mirrors, body image, those things that some women are doggedly pursued by. I wanted to know what I look like, REALLY look like. Not the image I present to the world of a body covered by whatever black, blue or gray fabric gets pulled out of the closet that day. But ME. The naked truth. I thought about this for days. The part of me that felt this was just bad on my part wrestled with the inner person who questioned, “why?” What was I afraid of? I didn’t know.

One night, I screwed up my courage, uncovered down to the skin I was born with, and looked in a mirror. It’s almost as if I were looking at an exhibit in a museum, observing myself from this angle and that view. I made the surprising discovery that I didn’t have a single negative remark to make about myself. WHAT? No slams about the excess pounds making me a loser, lamenting that I wasn’t a size two, no haranguing that someone who looked like me had nothing worthwhile to offer the world? No. I merely commented, “So this is what I look like.” I think the past few years of embracing my inner squirrely self has taken some of the pressure off of me. It’s given me an ability to embrace my squishy softness that huggers and cats everywhere seem to be attracted to. (Or do the cats just think there’s really a squirrel in there?!)  Honestly, it doesn’t get much cuter than my squirrely self, what do you think?

                                               Sue Glamour Squirrel

The interesting result I’ve noticed is that I want to take better care of myself since viewing the real me. It’s not: “Oh, I need to lose a billion pounds, though a loss would be beneficial, I’m sure.” It’s more a case of feeling an acceptance toward myself that I’ve never experienced before and wanting to treat myself like a friend. I go for walks now, eat more sensibly, go to bed earlier, all kind of strange things that people who like themselves do!

The shooting last week in Newtown, Connecticut brought such a sober, harrowing twist to the holiday season. I don’t know why the shooter did it, or why fantastic people meet such an awful fate. I’ve been awed by the acts of heroism the teachers displayed at Sandy Hook Elementary. I’ve been blessed by all of the good that has poured forth in this nation and from around the world in our country’s time of sorrow. I pray that blessings rain down on the people of Newtown.

Christmas is upon us. I’ve had a real mixed bag of thoughts this year. Money is tighter than ever, which rules out giving cash to a variety of good causes. My energy level hasn’t been up to snuff in ages, so giving my time isn’t happening as much. I’ve kept my holiday projects a little closer to home and am focusing on people I hope can use a little love. Sometimes I question if I’m following the right path or not, but my current actions feel right for this day. My goal continues to be to show Jesus’ love to everyone I encounter as I celebrate His birth. Some days I feel as if I do that so poorly, those days when a rabid pit bull is cheerier than I am. Fortunately, the Holy Spirit is pretty amazing about weaving some calming presence into my soul and my attitude straightens out again for another day.

I hope my blog has added a bit of light to your week, a little humor with your coffee or an insight that helps your day. Every single one of you reading this are a warm blessing to me.

Blessings and Peace  🙂

                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

11/17/12 G.L.A.D. Chronicles Week 7 – Progress, Peace, Squirrely Friends, Recipe For Thanksgiving


What a chaotic few weeks I’ve had… busier than a frenzied flea at the SPCA. I got to feeling like the doggie in the photo after a while.

What I felt like after this week!

Fortunately, a little sleep, (I might add that sleep, for me, is a marathon event between myself and Buddy the cat. He starts with the event Pillow Takeover: positioning himself above my head with claws strategically placed near scalp. Wait until human is asleep and then … CHARGE, out pop the claws, scalp moves south to get away, and Buddy gains a little more territory. After a few hours of this, he moves on to Butt Borders… placing himself down under to hog the warm spots and contort human even further. It’s a regular gold medal victory for that cat every night!) a few walks in the fresh air, hot coffee and decent food… I started to resemble the lassie with the cup of java….    

Feeling right as rain!!

                                                                                                     

Thank goodness I’m a resilient squirrel in a (lately) extraordinarily nutty world. Seriously! Have you caught the news at all? Some days, I think the entire planet has lost their marbles. And that’s saying something, coming from me. 🙂  But, I’m not here to wallow in reality, this is MY blog and I’ll make it as lilac-shaded through my glasses as I want to! In this little corner, things are okay.

I‘m back to eating well, taking walks and sweating to workout videos, getting to bed at a decent hour. I created a new Excel program at work that SHOULD make life easier. I can do a lot of things on computers, but I’m not a geek, so… I go through a lot of coffee and lotsa nuts before it’s just the way I want, but I DID IT! Squirrel tail salute to me!

Speaking of my furry friends, I’ve found a delightfully daffy fellow blogger who’s as loco about them as I am. This blog provides me with many smiles and a cheerful person behind that squirrely curtain: http://evilsquirrelsnest.com/2012/11/17/squirrel-butt/  Squirrel, said I’d raise a paw to you today!

On to other silliness, I post the following picture, courtesy of my friend Rick Gordon over at Facebook, who probably posted it courtesy of another FB’er. This week, we’ll celebrate Thanksgiving. Like it or love it, be it the meal, the games around the table after the dishes are cleared, or even those insane Black Friday sales, the following piece of wisdom is surely correct for some human mutant you’ll meet during the holiday season. 

 

I’ve told Rick I’d like to have this put on a t-shirt. For now, I’ll suffice with a 5 x 7 print out for my board at work. Coworker ticking you off? Pop the picture out… it’ll speak volumes!   Back to the holiday meal, I’m making a light, fluffy dessert I found on www.allrecipes.com 

Strawberry Fluff

Ingredients:

2 (3 ounce) packages sugar-free strawberry flavored Jell-O

1 (16 ounce) package low-fat cottage cheese, blended with a mixer for smoother consistency 

1 (8 ounce) container frozen whipped topping, thawed 1 (20 ounce) can crushed pineapple, in its own juice, drained

Directions: In a mixing bowl, combine the gelatin powder, cottage cheese, whipped topping and pineapple. Mix together well, refrigerate until chilled and serve.  I personally prefer raspberry, so may make that if I can find the sugar-free variety.

Well, friends, that’s about it for now. Just remember, when your annoying family members are causing you to have dangerous thoughts, manslaughter is still illegal in the state of Ohio! (where I live) And probably in the area where you live too. 🙂

Happy Thanksgiving!

10/06/12 G.L.A.D. Chronicles – Week One


This blog is an egg of an idea still very much in the nest. Thoughts can come a plenty, but some, on further examination, seem as appealing as yesterday’s dishwater… cold, with the bubbles burst flat. 2012 is shaping up as the year that will either knock me out in the eleventh hour or see me become a dogged woman pursuing a seemingly out-of-reach goal. I vote for the second choice!

What does G.L.A.D. have to do with it?

The letters stand for what I hold dear (God’s grace), something I take way too for granted (Life), a few ghosts (Activity of the physical variety would be my ghost from the past. Activity of being a light to others is my Casper from the recent present. Spending time with God in prayer, contemplation, more listening, and less moaning like a rattling old ghost myself.) and some daunting D words (Depression, Dietary choices, Decluttering). I think those three are pretty tangled together in my case.

For a female who’s read enough books about health and diet to stock a small-town library, why am I still so overweight? Knowledge alone isn’t getting me thin. I believe that I’ve had depression to some degree most of my life. As a teenager, I’d have episodes of feeling “The Black Hole” crowding in on me. I knew when that happened, I wasn’t fit to hang out with humans. It would last a few weeks and then move on. Life would feel normal again. I never really knew what brought it on, but I could surely feel it coming. I discovered aerobics in my late teens and noticed when I did them… well, I discovered a few things. My first real experience with aerobics was with a Richard Simmons album (yes, that’s right, one of those shiny black discs that played at 33 rpm) titled “Reach”. The problem with doing a workout to a vocal prompt with no visual guidance is that I put my back out shortly afterwards. I don’t think the goal of using his record was to end up walking like Quasimodo!

Anyway, making myself breathe hard, break a sweat and choose foods that didn’t come in plastic wrappers seemed to keep Black Hole away and my clothes would magically fit. When I had too many dates with ice cream from U.D.F. (United Dairy Farmers to those of you not from Cincinnati) and Twinkie boy, my clothes would mysteriously shrink and that ‘Rebel With A Cause’ Black Hole would come knocking. I don’t know if I associated these things back then. I just knew I looked sassy in my faded jeans and size ‘Small’ British band t-shirts. 

I suppose these chronicles will be about pursuing the G.L.A.D. and leaving the G.A.S. behind….

G-Gritting my teeth at the thought of ever

A-Accepting

S-Sue as a human with any redeeming value whatsoever 

I had such a surprise breakthrough this week. This involves backing up a bit and giving you some background.

Oh, how the years go by….

September 25th was my 30th wedding anniversary, a momentous milestone these days. My husband Craig and I celebrated by going to a retirement party for a friend of Craig’s, being held at Great American Ball Park during the Reds game. Before I loved squirrels, I adored piggies. Imagine my delight, seeing a few of my porcine friends at the ballpark.

Why do I want to sing “Macho Man” and “Y.M.C.A.” when I look at this construction worker pig?

What a jolly piggie!

Everything went pretty well until time came to head back to the car. Overweight and out of shape, long walks and stairs are things I tend to avoid. Hence why I’m overweight and out of shape. On this evening, I didn’t have a choice. It was h-u-m-i-l-i-a-t-i-n-g. When you’re sweating so hard and panting loud enough to cause a slew of calls to 911 because people hear a pervert following them, it’s scary. Climbing the stairs in the parking garage, I had conflicting thoughts blaring through my brain. The first wondered why it smelled like a mens urinal at the bus station. Did these people never hear of regular deodorizing and sanitation practices? The second image centered around my chest which felt ready to explode. I wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like and questioned if not, how could it possibly hurt worse? The third was a passionate prayer that God didn’t let me die right there in that urinal needing sanitation. What’s gross is when you’re sucking air that hard, you REALLY get the stench of urine in your nostrils.

For a few weeks, my heart has acted oddly, sounding like an out-of-tune-Mayberry band, with the odd, but regular, heavy heartbeat. Breathing during any exertion has become increasingly labored. It causes me such embarrassment that I try to hold my breath when anyone walks past within earshot. Heaven help me if they linger longer than twenty seconds. If that happens, I pretend I’m thinking about Robert Downey, Jr. in “Iron Man“. I wonder if I might experience simultaneous combustion if I were ever to walk on a treadmill and watch “The Avengers” at the same time? Oi, now there’s something to think about.

Back to the story, this has all vexed me enough to call my doctor and ask for an inhaler. He wanted me to have a stress test and a pulmonary function test, to see if there’s anything to worry about. The stress test has come back normal, for which I profoundly thank God. The P.F.T. will take place Monday. I sincerely hope I’m simply an old gray mare who’s ‘just’ obese and out of shape. If this is the case, a box of Clairol, diligent exercise and mindful eating can improve my symptoms dramatically. I think I’ve danced with denial long enough. That’s a mental exertion all its own.

On October 1st, I weighed in at 252 pounds, measured a 48″ waist, and I currently have an energy level of minus ten. Transparency must be my middle name. I don’t have the wherewithal to skirt the truth. The waist is the only measurement I hold interest in, as the number is one of the indicators for heart health. I’ve apologized to my heart for treating it like crap and I’m trying to make amends.

Oh, the breakthrough, I nearly forgot to write about it. Note to self: add Distractible to my D words. As I worked on something at my day job this week, my perpetual negative self talk kicked in and started to drone on about what a nincompoop I was. From somewhere inside me, courage hopped up and I said out loud, “I am NOT worthless and I’m NOT a loser. Period.” What the heck? In all my fifty-three years walking this Earth, I’ve never had the natural response of thinking I’m somebody and refuting that negative b.s.

Please hang out and take a walk with me.

09/14/12 Depression Sucks, But It Doesn’t Have To Be The End


Cat, with its mouth open

Cat, with its mouth open (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hello everyone. The summer brought a lawn that I nicknamed Tumbleweed Connection and a drought in my blog. My writing vibe was dry and dead. Inspiration seemed as elusive as fitting into size 12 jeans… just not happening!

I wondered what it would feel like if I were to write a meaninful blog sharing insights into a life pursuing a relationship with God and then I realized I don’t even know what that looks like. Who can define such a relationship? Isn’t it rather relative, a matter of perspective? For some, it could be the ‘twice-a-year-letting-your-backside-hit-a-church-pew’ (Christmas and Easter). For others, it’s prayer 24/7. For a few, it’s talking to God throughout the day about all matters great and small.

I fall into the third category. It doesn’t make my way any better or worse than the rest of the world. It just makes it my way.

What if I measure it by how happy I am? I don’t think that would work either. I’ve had the summer from hell. A very bad bout of depression that isn’t quite over yet. Something about a dark night of the soul comes to mind.

Depression is so hard to explain to a person who’s never had it. It’s having every blessing you could ever hope for, yet you still feel on the verge of tears and ready to walk away from everything, crawl into a cave and hope there’s a landslide, so that the opening to said cave would be covered up and you could hide endlessly from humanity.

It’s looking in the mirror and wondering about God’s sense of humor in making a mutt like you, while looking at others and feeling sure they have all the answers. You’re the only one who could possibly be this stupid. You trudge along and try to get through the episode. Part of you wouldn’t care if you didn’t.

Then something happens, it can be miniscule or gargantuan, the happening is different everytime. Maybe it’s hearing a dear friend is really sick or an acquaintance has lost a longtime job and may lose their house. Or maybe it’s when you’re delivering the newspaper with your son and you make the acquaintance of a cat, an adorable feline who wants… DEMANDS your attention… you give her fifteen minutes of cuddles and then when you try to leave, she proceeds to put her teeth in your leg. For whatever reason, this doesn’t even phase you. You patiently have a conversation with this feline, explaining that this behavior isn’t cool, that if you’re going to hang out together, she must keep her teeth in her mouth and not on your leg… and you guess you’ll just have to come back next week and give her some etiquette lessons. The whole time, she sits there gazing at you like she’s actually listening! You walk away feeling a little bit lighter and smiling, not really sure why, but life seems a little better, suddenly.

In that moment, I talk to God; laughing about the absurdity of speaking to a cat as if it understands me, wondering how many people saw this daffy woman …. being who she is… and suddenly life doesn’t seem so bad.

I bet the prayers of friends might have had something to do with it. Maybe God knows better than anyone what the best way is to reach your hurting heart. It might be crazy as heck to everyone else, but it works for you. 

Maybe you can pass the blessing on and pray for someone else having a bad day/month/year/life. Maybe, just for today, the depression doesn’t win, God seems a little closer and you have a smidgen of insight into why you’re here.

To straighten out cats with wayward teeth!

Abundant blessings to you. 🙂

05/24/12 Enjoying The Signs of Life Adorning My Appearance


Dove wordmark

Dove wordmark (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hello everyone. This is a bit of an opinion piece based on some of the blogs I’ve been reading today about the….. shhhh…… controversial topic of women in my age group who are bucking up the courage to “go natural”….. now, before you wee perverts think a “Dance Nekky Party” is about to start, no, it’s not! At least not in my little space!

I mean, those of us in the fifty and over group who question ‘anti-aging” products. The opposite of aging is, let’s face it, pushing up daisies at the cemetery. You’re either aging, from the day you were born, or you’re dead. I’m alive! Why should I want to anti-age?

I do love Dove soap and always have. One of the few soaps that doesn’t make a girl’s delicate areas have a reaction. Works on one’s face, works on one’s unmentionables. Gotta love that.

Dove doesn’t have “anti age” products. I love them all the more for that. They use real women for their ads. I double love them for that. They’re one of the few companies that don’t make me feel like some kind of gross, unworthy monstrosity. With them, I’m just a girl. Just a fifty-two year old woman.

I love Dove. 🙂

I have wrinkles, my face is not flawlessly smooth or peaches and cream white like it used to be, and my hair looks a little more like Pepe LePew everyday with that striking gray streak zipping along the middle.

I LIKE Pepe LePew. I always did want to look like a star. 🙂

This isn’t a ‘change your life’ post. Sorry, if that’s what you were looking for today.

I’d love to hear from others. Do you fight age, embrace it, or sit in a chair and moan that there’s nothing you can do about any of it anyway?

All opinions welcome.

Oh, alright, due to thousands of tweets received during the writing of this post, I WILL host a “Dance Nekky Party”, beginning in ten minutes. Be there and be bare! 🙂

Blessings. 🙂

05/23/12 What Would You Buy If You Had The Money?


Reading about the places Diana Frey used a credit card to buy things that would be paid for out of her Union’s funds; I got to daydreaming about what I would purchase if I could have an unlimited cash flow.

I’ve decided I’m quite boring! My list would be something like this:

Book Stores, an open-ended account to Amazon.com, Book Stores, a candle shop, an occasional movie, a store that sells Flair pens and Gel tip pens, Book Stores, possibly a few coffee shops, a tea shop, maybe a stone squirrel for my garden.

Hmmm, I sound greedy. There aren’t any gifts listed for my family. Let them get their own unlimited imaginary funds to plan lavish spending with!

At the end of the day, I suppose I’ll keep working and not dip into the company bank accounts. I have an awfully healthy fear of having to take showers with bunches of strange women in an open setting. 🙂

Have a blessed day!

04/27/12 Sweating Inspiration!


What a great week it’s been! Getting outside everyday and sweating, I forgot how much enjoyment is in “glistening” with odoriferous perspiration! Walking has turned from torture a week ago into still huffing and puffing (fractionally less!), a lot of sweat and a feeling of accomplishment that moi hasn’t keeled over and is still going!

Two WordPress blogs have inspired me: Joyful Journey and Fabulous 50’s. They’ve managed to make fitness and perspiration seem desirable and not something to avoid at all costs! For that, I am grateful!

Joyful Journey talked about the website www.myfitnesspal.com  It’s got the nicest phone app that allows me to download my exercise, food, notes, lots of cool things. Very motivating and FREE! I love free lately. 🙂  It mimics the features of other well-known sites that do not offer such services for free and it’s extremely easy to use on my Motorola Droid. Gotta love that, no notebooks to tote around for journals, food diaries, whatever.

I can’t get away from it. Over at Facebook, different friends are writing about training for events and the accomplishment they feel moving from walking to running and busting a move in general. Emily and her mom Joanne lead the pack of inspiring women in their posts about “Girls on the Run.”

My brother Jon and his wife Marcia are in on the act. During the last family gathering at Easter, unlike me, they didn’t look like they’d been up close and personal with an air hose planted up their bums! I can’t hiss at them, as I know they work out and don’t eat like rebellious children.

My book club friend Deb, definitely a long cool woman with a blonde mane, also inspires me to move. She’s about as slim as they come and breaks a sweat regularly.

Obviously, I can’t beat them, so I wave the love seat lizard’s white flag.

I’m ready to join them, call Cecil B. DeMille and tell him “I’m ready for my glistening close up, Mr. DeMille!”

Drops of sweat

Drops of sweat (Photo credit: Wikipedia)