Maybe it’s a generational thing.
Maybe those of us born before the Beatles landed or Woodstock or Vietnam still have our mother’s voice whirring in our head. Just to set the record straight, I was only seven months old when the Beatles appeared on Ed Sullivan.
Those of us at the tippy end of the Boomer Generation hear . . .”Don’t make waves.”
“For heavens sake Jamie, have coffees for your friends not fundraisers for Free Crimea.”
No. There’s not much screaming about passions around here. At least that I’d let on.
So this Finish the Sentence Friday prompt: “What I really want to scream out loud is…”
Presents a bit of a poser for me.
For most things I want to SCREAM out loud, I squish down deep in a itty, bitty ball.
And then go slog through 5 miles.
But appearances aside, I’m a gaming sort, so here goes.
What I really want to scream out loud is . . . .
My safe “Have coffees and not fundraisers for Greenpeace” answers:
“Is it too much to ask for ya’ll to put down the toilet seat?!”
“Could somebody PLEASE walk the dog, he’s standing crossed legged by the door.”
“Why on earth do ya’ll keep putting food incrusted dishes on the non-disposal side of the sink?”
Yes. It’s better to play it safe. By being diplomatic, you never run with risk of being misunderstood. Being thought a b*tch. Or heaven forbid in the South, The Scarlett Letter embroidered on the bib of a Southern Lady who spoke without thought of repercussion
~ being thought unChristian.
What I want to shout is . . .
I WANT TO SCREAM and not worry about the wreckage it might cause.
But I’ll leave that for another day.
Or as Emily Litella most eloquently used to say,
What say you?
What do you want to scream?
It’s so easy to commit to things. Follow-through is another thing entirely.
For me anyway.
In one of my “I’m old and this hurts” outbursts to my lovely, amazing trainer, she told me to google the World’s Oldest Competitive Bodybuilder. Her name is Ernestine Shepherd.
She is 75.
No peoples. This is for real.
She is awesome personified. So after watching several YouTube stories on her — and how she gets up at 3 a.m. gets her spiritual food, then runs 10 miles a day, teaches fitness classes. Works out with her trainer, a former Mr. Universe.
Well, I decided to go for it.
Tanning creams and oils and string bikinis here I come. I signed up for the Gold’s Gym Invitational for Those Who Have Lost Their Body and Mind.
I hopped over to the Chick-Fil-A run site and signed up for their inaugural half marathon in Athens, Georgia the first Saturday in April. I’ve stayed away from running half marathons in Athens because like Rome, this Athens was built on seven times seventy hills.
But after reading about the amazing Mrs. Shepherd, I thought why not?
Yes, it’s so easy to sign up for these things and then you’ve got to squeeze in some training time. Today I got out and ran seven miles.
I used to do that no problem but now I get kind of bored out there by myself.
I do try to put the time to good use. To think about book ideas, plan the rest of my day. Plan the rest of my life.
This is when I usually tune out and think how the heck am I going to keep running for four more miles.
There is no doubt mastering the mind is key to mastering anything you wish to accomplish.
~ ~ ~
I started this post the other day.
I’m due to go out and run another seven in a few minutes. As I look outside — it’s gray, windy and cold.
My mind is thinking cold, tight muscles and sore joints.
One of my favorite scriptures is Ecclesiastes 11:4:
He who observes the wind will not sow,
and he who regards the clouds will not reap,
Or run 7 miles.
If we wait for everything to be perfect — there will be a lot of waiting.
A lot of doing nothing.
Enough contemplation for me.
I got to go put on some layers.
God has a sense of humor.
It is now raining.
I saw the rain and did not run.
I did not sow today. Will I reap on April 5, the date of race?
Heck no, if it’s cold and raining.
Sitting once again outside on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.
Before I take off on a long ride on this beautiful (yet a bit smoky — must be a fire someplace) afternoon,
Ten things of Thankful for the week that was . . .
10. Monday the children were back in school and I helped finally rock my youngest’s Valentine party.
Because of snow and ice, then a scheduled break, they ended up having their Valentine’s Party on February 24.
9. My little craft was a big hit.
8. Thank goodness that I was able to find photo machine. Small town problems. I took their photos right after lunch and needed the prints back for the party in a couple of hours.
7. The alphabet. The craft was to make Valentines. We stuck a magnet on the back so they could put them on the fridge. Of course, many stainless models like ours won’t take a magnet.
The kids absolutely LOVED picking through mounds of sticky letters to find the right ones to spell out just the right message on their project. I thought the kids would just do their names but they added a lot of their own creativity.
6. Thankful for my Valentine. Tebow. Truly the purest heart among all us living here.
This was my example for the kids.
5. Toenail polish. This is the time of year, my feet are exposed and a bit of color does help gild the homely lily a bit.
4. March. The month of spring’s arrival is HERE! Oh happy day.
3. Motorcycles. I don’t have one or ride one, but tons have gone by our house while I’ve played on my laptop sitting on the porch. Another sign that warmer weather is here.
2. Fire pits. I love to have something to do with all the darn sticks that fall off the trees and litter our yard. Just hunk them all in the fire pit, add a match and a marshmallow and you’ve got a great evening.
1. No one died on the finale of Downton Abbey. Hurrah! At least I wasn’t aware that anyone passed away or was thrown into prison even.
Happy week that was.
Linking up with —->>>
Is it wrong to be thankful for the same 10 things week after week?
Not morally wrong as murder or lusting after someone’s double mocha champagne truffle.
More lazily wrong. Like fallen-into-a-rut wrong.
Not opening my eyes and emotions to the spectrum of wonder all aroundest me.
Ten things of thankful for the week that was . . . (not putting coffee, health, my running friends.)
10. The SUN.
After last week’s ice and snow, it’s been warm in Central Georgia. As a girl growing up in Central Florida, I never could appreciate that tingly, world-is-coming-alive again feeling. The joy of seeing those first few daffodils.
9. My white legs.
SCREAM. It was warm this morning on our run through town. At least to my menopausal self. I braved a skirt. Boy are my legs white. But I’m most thankful they are attached to my torso and still move fairly well.
I haven’t shot a basketball in months but I have enjoyed watching my two favorite college teams do well. The University of Florida and SMU are having great seasons. Though why everyone enjoys hopping on a winning team’s bandwagon is worthy of a more thought-filled blog post.
Which the Gators don’t seem to be getting enough of as I watch them playing Ole Miss as a compile this post.
6. Okay. Here is where I want to put birds or coffee or sleep.
Why is it so hard to think of 10 things?
5. My bike.
Had an awesome 20-something mile ride on Thursday. It had been along time. I don’t like to ride if the temps aren’t hovering near 70. Much rejoicing that I’ll be able to get out on my bike regularly.
4. The LEGO Movie.
We went and saw it one night this week. Ate lots of buttered popcorn and drank copious amounts of Diet Coke. Awesome fun, creative flick. And the little boy at the end was my Joe. Okay, he wasn’t really but he sure did make me think of my Joe. And my daughter is the human embodiment of Wyldstyle. Purple hair and all. Just saying.
3. Frozen pizza.
Or should I say that my family is finally starting to be okay with me whipping out one for dinner when meal time creeps up on me and I am UNPREPARED. Not that that happens around here. Much.
I truly love broccoli. It’s the only green vegetable that I could eat EVERYday. It was very sad for me that the plants I put in my garden this fall were duds. But I learned that I planted them too late. Need to have them in the ground by early September.
1. Birds, Coffee, Rebounds, Black running skirts and white legs.
Looks like the Gators are poised for Number 1. Yeehaw.
Linking up with —->>>
Third graders study fossils. At least around these parts.
As a child, my mother volunteered at our local museum. Part of the responsibilities entailed traveling to classrooms and giving presentations. To prepare for these forays into the greater halls of learning — the Central Florida elementary schools — she practiced on me.
I loved the fossil trunk. Smooth rocks and artifacts that were so mysterious. I mean they could have been around when Stegosaurus or Brontosaurus roamed our earth.
So I couldn’t pass a chance to load up my two — three if you count Dad — and head to Fernbank and . . .
The building itself is beautiful. Way back when we lived in Atlanta, our house was mere minutes away. The law school where my husband and I met just a few miles down the road. But this was the first time I had ventured inside.
I tried to get this guy (or gal) all in the same frame.
It was impossible.
Like me, the kids were to the Mesozoic era and back brimming with excitement.
They did come alive and in the science experiment room — where we could do lots of hands on coolio stuff.
But for me the drawing cards was the dinos.
Maybe in an age of movies and games that bring these prehistoric beasts to life, a bunch of old bones isn’t that big of a deal?
Or maybe like a lot of things, the closer I get to becoming a fossil myself, I can identify with these quiet, mythical creatures?
What say you?
Linking up with . . .
Sometime you just have to come clean with your blog.
Today is one of those days.
As a blogger, I’m not really stat-crazy. I’m not forever analyzing my traffic and what posts seem to be most popular.
For one, I’m not that structured. When I kept track of the pulse of such things, I never really acting on any of the information.
And to be candid, it wasn’t like I was hauling in 10,000 page views a day. So why bother? Of course, there is the argument that if I acted on my analytics I might have better traffic, but that would make too much sense for me to act on.
That said, one of my most active posts — one that consistently shows up as popular — is the one where I debated about whether to color my hair.
Does she or doesn’t she.
In fact some of my discussion on the subject ended up on a rah, rah go gray website.
So this was me today — on the way to the salon.
To get my gray roots covered.
Yes, when I turned 50, I couldn’t do anything about ages effects on my skin and hormones but I could go blonde.
So I did.
And have been ever since May.
Now my daughter thinks I ought to go brunette, like I was in my 30s.
Too harsh for my gracefully aging skin tone.
So here I am a few hours after that photo was taken with nice blonde roots.
With my same 50-year-old skin.
Oh happiest of days.
It is so lovely this afternoon that I am writing this post out on my porch.
These are four photos taken in rapid succession with no thought behind them . . . other than twisting my laptop this way and that.
Well, I did put thought into the first one of me. I was trying for the cross-eyed look.
Seems I only have given myself a raging headache and managed to appear more zombie than zaney.
Ten things of thankful this second day after Valentines.
10. We never did lose power during the winter event last week.
9. We survived the Valentine’s Day earthquake.
Having just gotten into bed, there started this loud rumbling and shaking.
8. I woke up at 5 a.m. for a race in Athens on Saturday — the morning after all the earthquake hoopla. Got up in the dark and stuck my head outside to the cold and wind. And got back into bed.
It was wonderful. I didn’t even have guilt feelings about not running.
7. Am going to run later today with a friend. It’s so lovely out. And thank goodness by now my headache from crossing my eyes has vanished.
6. The birds are chirping madly.
5. Had the most fun watching the cardinals eat from the feeder during the snow. This is also how I know that I am officially an old person.
Not only do I get excited watching birds eat. I take their picture and post it on my blog.
4. Good health.
3. Good neighbors that make me smile because they are excited about their new puppy. Who is very adorable, btw.
2. That I had a hot dog for lunch. Though I might be rethinking my thanks on that since I’m running in about a half an hour.
1. That I was given another week — to listen to the birds, write a bit, eat a hot dog and link up with the Ten Things of Thankful gang.
Well, the ice pelts the windows.
And we still have power.
Thank the good Lord.
I did a little work early in the day but for the most part — I have done nothing productive.
Except spend some time at me mum’s chatting with her.
First nap, I’ve taken in four years.
Now, I’m sitting here watching Ghostbusters.
“Yes, this man has no dick.”
“Your girlfriend lives in the penthouse at Spook Central.”
“It’s the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man.”
Let you know if we are still warm tomorrow.
Are you warm and dry?
I must have them.
I just don’t remember them. At all.
Linking up with Finish the Sentence Friday: My best dream ever was . . .
Selfie of me passed out. No silly. This is supposed to be me asleep. ZZZZ. Dreaming nothing.
Plane crashes. Teeth falling out. Being swept away by tidal waves. Accidentally killing some one when I was digging a large hole at the beach only to turn around and see two feet sticking out of the pile of discarded sand that accumulated behind me. I thought how am I going to get out of this one.
There have also been dreams that have been just plain interesting, darn it.
Tunneling deeper and deeper in some old house. Another where I was on raft adrift on an endless calm sea sensing an enormous sea creature right underneath.
Those interesting ones I usually look up on Dream moods. Along the ones where people die and planes crash.
Just to remind myself that most of what is played in our mind while sleeping is not a foreshadowing but a working out of the subconscious.
Back to the task at hand.
My best dream ever?
I could make something up. Like I went to heaven. Or spent the entire day on a tropical island. Or won the Museum of Aviation Foundation Marathon in picturesque Warner Robbins, Georgia.
No. Can’t do that to you. Because I am above all a blogger with the purest standards of journalistic integrity. Most days, anyway.
Maybe my best dream is yet to come?
How about you?
I always loved taking photographs.
Not that I am particularly good. Not that I am dreadful.
I just enjoy capturing a subject and composing a decent shot.
Sometimes a photograph will make a million hearts sing.
Or make a million hearts cry.
But if the subject moves a deep part of you, even though techniques are not all that techie — let’s say a photo taken with a Polaroid Instamatic. For most observers, all it represents is a random collection of chemicals reacting to light aligning up in the form akin to homo sapiens.
Unless that shape is an image of your five-month-old daughter. Or of your 78-year-old neighbor crossing the marathon finish line.
If the subject is precious, so is the picture no matter the quality.
Walking over to deposit a borrowed set of moving blankets on my in-laws porch, I spied these beauties.
Their yellow heads such a thrilling, unexpected sight.
I was just opining on seeing the first daffodil at the end of yesterday’s post.
Never dreaming I’d stumble across one the next day.
Not the best photograph, but the subject matter . . . priceless.
Well, especially after the winters we’ve endured.
A little yellow glimmer of . . .
And all God’s people sighed, “Amen.”
When do expect your first daffodil sighting?
Linking up with Greta and Allison for Through the Lens Thursday. Our prompt this week: Flower.