Day 3 of New Eating

Today I had my lovely eggs before my morning duty.  That way I didn't have to scarf them down like I did yesterday.  I like eating my eggs for breakfast and not for lunch.  Plus they are filling and last a long time in my tummy.  So, I didn't take any snacks with me to administer my small group testing.

Once I was done with my initial small group of first graders, I had two more kids to test who missed testing yesterday.  Then, it was lunch time so I had my lunch:  almonds, beef jerky, and an orange.  But when 2:00 and dismissal duty rolled around I was quite hungry.  I had a diet Dr. Pepper and a very small handful of mixed nuts after duty to tide me over until I got home.

When I got home, my son was in the kitchen doing his homework and my husband and daughter were upstairs on my bed.  Since this was the perfect pay back, I flopped onto them and announced, "Group hug!" I allowed all my weight to rest on my ten year old daughter.  Her breathing became shallow but she wasn't about to tell me to get up.  This was like a dream come true for her!  Mommy AND Daddy all to herself!

For dinner, I asked for my shake to be made with ice.  I figured that way I could eat it more than drink it.  So, my husband loaded up the blender with ice and water, added flax seeds, and two scoops of chocolate soy protein meal replacement and a few pieces of frozen peaches.  Buzz.  Buzz.  It was blending away, chopping up the ice, and then nothing...  Our trusty Kitchen Aid mixer finally bit the dust.  

Before I became a school teacher I worked for Williams-Sonoma and for The Rolling Pin.  I think that I won that blender in a sales contest.  We used to have sales incentives sponsored by the vendors and then at the end of the contest you would be rewarded with free products.  I am an loyal Kitchen Aid fan, so winning that contest was a no brainer.  Anyway, I've been teaching full time for fifteen years and quit working in retail  a year before that.  So, the blender was at least sixteen years old.  Sadly, the part that failed is the cog that drives the blender blades...the motor is still running like a champ!  We'll see if Kitchen Aid can send us a replacement part.  Since they are a company that I respect, I hope they can help us out.

My milkshake was quite delicious but still full of ice chunks.  Dutifully I chewed up the ice and shivered my way to the bottom of the cup.  Then I was frozen to death!  I had to sit with my hands over my mouth and under a blanket for a few minutes before I could even begin to function again.  Figuring that I must have burned some extra calories by eating ice and processing a cold milk shake, I looked up that question on the Internet.  Unfortunately, the folks at Livestrong burst my metabolic bubble:  -calories-burned-eating-ice.  In order to burn enough calories to lose one pound by eating ice, you would have to eat 1.5 tons!  So much for that.

On another note, luckily, I was remorseful enough in my last post to earn back my wine and chocolate!  But first, I had to choke down an enormous fish oil pill and a prune.  I don't think one prune is going to do much for me but my husband says that the fish oil is a double strength dose.  I sure do hope that fish oil improves something tangible like hair, nails, skin, etc.  Taking that whopper is no fun, even if you chase it with red wine and dark chocolate.

Today I took over 15,000 steps and walked over six miles.  Jeans week at school has meant that I've been wearing sneakers every day.  Next week it is back to regular teacher clothes and proper shoes.  I wonder if that will effect my daily steps?

Day Two of Eating Plan

 Today was the first real day from beginning to end that I am eating all my meals from the new eating plans that my husband has started us on.  Surprisingly, I am adapting quite nicely.

In my lunch box were the following:  my lovely egg whites with cheese, some almonds, a few cubes of cheese, a beef jerky stick, and an orange.

My school day began faster than I was ready for and so I had to put off eating my eggs until lunch time.  I grabbed my almonds, cheese, and beef jerky.  While administering a test, I very quietly  munched on my almonds, trying not to make any noise.  After about an hour, I ate my cheese cubes (also while testing).  Those two things tided me over until the testing session was complete.

After returning my test materials, I opened up the beef jerky and promptly dropped a big inch and a half hunk of it on the floor of the conference room.  Thanks to my coworker tossing it in the trash, I didn't eat it... (God only knows when that carpet has EVER been vacuumed!)

Between make up tests, I scarfed down my orange and my eggs.  I actually heated them up since they had been sitting in my room temperature lunch bag from 6:30 until 11:30.  I figured that I needed to cook the botulism out.

By the end of the school day, I was quite starving!  I managed to walk into the cupcake shop next to the nail salon without caving.  Announcing to the clerk, "I'm on a diet.  I'm not even going to look at your lovely display of gourmet cupcakes.  I just want this green tea."  It pained me to walk out of the store with only the tea but I did it!  Whew!  That was a close one!

When I got home today I was greeted with a family group hug.  First I hugged my husband, then my daughter latched herself to my back, and finally my son squirmed in on my hip.  The kids tried to get the dog involved too!  We broke up our huddle and resumed our normal activities.

My husband made me a meal replacement shake for dinner.  Tonight's version had flax seed in it.  I didn't notice it though.  I choked down an enormous fish oil pill with my shake and chased it with a few more almonds and two orange segments my son hadn't eaten left over from his dinner.

Because I was "snarky" in my post from yesterday, my husband has informed me that the wine and chocolate is a maybe.  Darn again!

I managed to get in 11,900 steps today but traded out exercise for a manicure, pedicure, and much needed eyebrow waxing.  I think I might walk laps around the house to get in some more steps.  If I lace up my sneakers, that might smudge my toes.  But walking barefoot around the kitchen...that's something I could  should do.

My husband's sardine lunch.  Blech!

Day 1 of New Eating...

After almost 42 years of yo-yo dieting, I'm turning over the string.  I hope the slip knot doesn't choke me!

My husband is the stay at home parent in our house.  He is an avid Internet reader and has discovered a plan 28 days to a healthier heart and 9 super foods to a healthier heart.  Oh Lord.

As I said in another post, I like my bubble...my routine.

For breakfast I've been having four egg whites for several months.  At first, he made the eggs with lunch meat and cheese on the top.  Then I gave up normal eating utensils for Lent and started using only chop sticks.  That means the lunch meat got dropped because it was too much trouble to figure out how to cut the meat.  Currently, I just have four egg whites and one slice of American cheese.  I use my chop sticks to scrape the edges of the Tupperware and then break the eggs into little squares.  To the horror of my coworkers, I eat this cold.  (Eggs are smelly.  Heating them up makes them more smelly. Heating up already cooked eggs just cooks them more.  Hence:  cold.)  I love my eggs and hope that doesn't change.


He does the majority of grocery shopping at Sam's Club.  While I was at work, he did the shopping.  So, we now have vast amounts of healthy foods.  I'll be allowing my husband to make the food decisions for me.

As an after school snack, I had 20 unsalted almonds.  For dinner he fed me a meal replacement shake with added banana and strawberries, a small cup of frozen fruit, a glass of red wine, and two squares of dark chocolate.  I could care less about the dark chocolate.  I'm not a fan, but I'll gladly eat it if you tell me to.  The wine was yummy.  However, my glass is empty.  I want another glass but he's not getting up to fill it.

 Darn.

My Bubble

I live in a bubble and I'm proud of it.  Inside my bubble are my kids, our dog, my husband, and me.  Every now and then people visit and we "grant them access" to our bubble.  We are thankful that we have loved ones who want to come inside.

Most days the bubble works as a well oiled machine.

My alarm clock is set for 5:30 am.  Depending on if I need to wash my hair, some times I get right up and some times I lounge a bit.  As I get ready, I wait for the next alarm clock:  the kids'.  That rings around 6:20.  The kids and husband begin to stir.  I give kisses and hugs and say, "Have a good day.  I love you."

The dog and I go down stairs.  I turn off the burglar alarm, make the coffee, let the dog out the back door, and wait for her to come back.  She gets two treats.  I make my coffee cup:  one scoop of creamer and two ice cubes.  I gather my things and go to my car.

My drive to work is more or less the same every day.  I listen to the same radio station, listen to the daily prayer and try to interpret how that is applicable to my life.

When I arrive at work, I park in the same spot.  90% of the time I back in to my spot, but some days I pull straight in.  Mostly all of my coworkers park in their same spots everyday too.

I do my morning duty, eat my breakfast, and then begin my work.

At the end of my school day, I do my duty again.  Then, return to my classroom and tidy up loose ends/prepare for the next day.

My drive home is one of my favorite things to do.  I open my convertible top, turn on the radio, kick off my shoes, and call or text my husband.  We chat about our day and current events.  As I drive, I let go of my work day and "survey my kingdom" once I get to the top of the overpass bridge.

Once I'm home, I am greeted by my kids, husband, and dog.  The kids do their homework.  I rattle around. Some days I walk or run.  Some days I just sit.  We eat dinner, finish homework, and get caught up.

My son's bedtime is 8:00 but my daughter's is 9:00.  I usually get into bed somewhere in between.  I DVR the following shows:  Hoarders (one version on TLC and the other on A and E), 19 Kids and Counting, NASCAR, and Project Runway. Usually, it takes me several days to get through one episode of Hoarders because I fall asleep quickly.

I am a restless sleeper.  I get up a lot in the night.  I check the clock, go to the bathroom, roll over, check on the kids, and even click the channels until I find some news or familiar show that I can close my eyes and just listen to.

This is my life in my bubble.  I like it here.  I like it a lot!

 

Army Navy Market/Camo Weekend

One day during spring break, my husband and I went to the Army Navy Surplus Market.  This shop has been in business since 1955 with only two owners.  The current owner, Nick Potamitis, has owned the store since 1983.  

We went to the store for the purpose of finding camo clothing for the Boy Scout camping trip that was held on the air force base.  The theme was camo and I wanted to be ready.  "The only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize."  (Clairee Belcher) 

I couldn't help myself!  I had to take pictures of the "inventory".  This old bottle of insect spray caught my eye.  When I came home and "Googled" it, I found out that there was indeed a store called "Graham's Sanitary Supplies" that was located in downtown Tampa.  I can't figure out when that store went out of business, but the following photo is of the store at the corner of Zack and Nebraska.  I don't know when the picture was taken but Zack and Nebraska doesn't look like that any more.  (Look for a future blog about that location!) Click here to see that blog post.

Picture I took on Thursday

Archive photo from USF library

Digital ID: R05-z-00002057

Title: Graham's Sanitary Supplies Store.

Published: Tampa, Fla. : University of South Florida, Tampa Library n.d.

Physical description: 1 photograph : jpeg 21 x 26 cm.

Summary: Graham's Sanitary Supplies Store.

Other Contributers: Robertson and Fresh (Firm)

Other Contributers: University of South Florida -- Tampa Campus Library

Hierarchical place name: Florida--Hillsborough County--Tampa

Collection: Robertson and Fresh Photograph Collection

Subjects:

• Graham's Sanitary Supplies (614 Nebraska Avenue)
• Streets--Nebraska Avenue
• Streets--Zack Street
• United States

An old "foot locker" with "blood" on it.  Just kidding, but it does look very mysterious!

I can't read the rest of this foot locker, but it definitely says, "To Mrs..."  That's got to be a locker that was once full of her husband's belongings.  I wonder if he made it home, or if it was just his stuff?

Old and new shoes.

All of the AC vents had bars on them.

Used towels...in case you need a replacement woobie.

Aisles and aisles of new and used gear.

We were successfully decked out for our weekend with the Boy Scouts on the air force base.

Nicholas in full camo.

Me holding the line on the shore.  Note that my orange camo matches my orange visor.

The trip to the army navy store was "a trip".  My husband has been back three times already.  Walking through the shop is like walking into a Hoarders episode, but really cool at the same time.  Fifty seven years of interesting stuff!

Ramblings

One of the reasons I started this blog was to use it as a sort of a journal or diary.  Today, my thoughts are so scattered and I think that trying to organize them into some sort of paragraph form would help.

Dozens of cars passed by me this morning as I was trying to pull out of my street.  That doesn't seem like a really big deal except that all of these cars are going to get stopped at the air force base anyway.  We live about a half mile from the entrance to the base.  All drivers and passengers are ID checked.  What's the hurry? They are all going south and I'm going north.  Because of the ID check, the cars at this time of morning are usually going no more than 20 miles per hour.  Not a single car stopped.  I had to wait for a break in the line before I could pull out.

Finally, I pulled out.  Feeling a little ticked, I flipped over to my favorite radio station, Spirit FM.  It's a contemporary Christian station and the songs and message are uplifting.  But no...  This is the start of "Share-a-Thon" which is a week long fundraiser.  Not much music, just a lot of begging for money.

I know it seems like an oxymoron, but my next favorite radio station is 98 Rock.  It's a foul mouthed tool type guy station that features Bubba the Love Sponge.  As I listen, my IQ lowers.

Then, I got a text message from a girlfriend who told me that she was wearing the shirt I got her to the hospital to have her babies!!!  So, much for that crabby attitude.  It was wiped away at 6:49 a.m. with the following words:  "I'm wearing your shirt to the hospital today and I am thankful for you!"

Really!?  How totally awesome are friends?  To think that she would take the time to text me ON HER WAY TO THE HOSPITAL TO GIVE BIRTH  TO TWINS is so amazing!  I bought her this shirt that says "This is what I'm thankful for" written over the baby bump. Crabby mood:  Gone.

Then...She had the most precious little angel babies:

And then, my neighbor had surgery and that went well.  She's home from the hospital today.
And then, my coworker's niece had surgery and that went well.
And then, her husband got a new job!  Obviously, that went well.
And then, my daughter's report card came with a note saying that they had miscalculated her grades for the last quarter and her grades went up and earned "Second Honor Roll"!
And then, my son earned his Wolf badge and is currently working on "Arrow Points".

My thoughts are not organized into paragraphs, but today was a goooood day!

Picnic Island Ponderings

I'm not sure if this counts as one of my 45 under 45 but...

I stuffed my kayak into my convertible VW Bug, grabbed my camera and set off for Picnic Island to have an adventure and spend way too much time in my own head. 

 (It's like a fun house in there.)

Little mangrove, if you work really hard and eat all of your veggies,
one day you will grow up to be a big mangrove,

Persistence

A trapped trap!

"The Dot and the Line" Cartoon

 Metaphor for life...

Old buoy, you've worked very hard but t is time for you to retire. 

Obligatory Self-Portrait

Obligatory Shoe Photo

"The Giving Couch"

A 42 Year Old Relationship Comes To An End...

Once there was a couch..... and she loved a little girl. And one day the girl would gather with her family and take pictures and put those into a photo album.  She would climb up her cushions and sit on her arm rests and take naps. And they would play hide-and-go-seek. And when the girl was tired, she would sleep on her slip cover. And the girl loved the couch.......very much. And the couch was happy.

Me
Six Months Old

But time went by. And the girl grew older. And the couch was often alone. Then one day the girl came to the couch and the couch said "Come, Jennifer, come and climb up my cushions and sit on my arm rests and take naps and be happy"

"I am too big to climb and play", said the girl. "I want to buy a house and fill it with furniture. I want a fancy living room like my parent's house. Can you give me a fancy living room?"

My parent's Kentucky condo

"I'm sorry," said the couch, "but I live in Vero Beach now, I have only matching Parson's stools and throw pillows. Ask your mom, Jennifer, and perhaps she will let me move to Tampa. Then your living room will be fancy and you will be happy." And so the girl convinced her mom, packed up the stools and gathered her pillows and carried them away. And the couch was happy.

Christmas in Tampa

But the girl stayed away for a long time.. and the couch was sad. And then one day the cat and the dog discovered the couch.  They scratched up the cushions and made the couch smell.  When the girl came back, the couch shook with joy and she said, "Come, Girl, climb up my cushions and sit on my arm rests and take naps and be happy." "You are too shabby," said the girl.

"I want a fancy couch to be the center of my living room," she said. "I want to have visitors and I want them to not be covered in pet fur and to sit comfortably, and so I need proper cushions. Can you give me new cushions?" "I have no fabric remnants," said the couch. "This is my best, but you may flip over my cushions, get new throw pillows and keep the dog out. Then you will be happy." And the girl washed and flipped over her cushions, kept the dog out, was satisfied with the fluffing. And the couch was happy.

Summer's birthday
(Note the excessive throw pillows.)

But the girl stayed away for a long time. And when she came back, the couch was so happy she could hardly speak. "Come, Girl," she whispered, "come and play." "I am too old and busy to play," said the girl. "I want an office that will serve as a place to complete homework and as a comfy space. Can you be the couch for my office?" "Remove the annoying throw pillows and allow my cushions to be flat," said the couch. "Then you can be casual...... and be happy." And so the girl donated the throw pills and allowed the cushions to be flat. And the couch was happy....

*Sigh*

But not really. And after a long time the girl and her mom came back again. "I am sorry, girls," said the couch, "but I have nothing left to give you----" "My feathers are flat." "Our lives are too busy for fluffing," said the girls. "My cushions are thread bare," said the couch. "You cannot flip them over ------" "We are too embarrassed to ," said the girls. "My arm rest stuffing is gone," said the couch. "You cannot climb--------" "We are too grown up to climb," said the girls. "I am sorry," sighed the couch. "I wish that I could give you something------ but I have nothing left. I am just an old stump."

"There are many people who don't need very much now," said the girl. "just a quiet place to sit and rest." "Well," said the couch, straightening herself up as much as she could, "well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. Come, girl, sit down. Sit down and consider donating* me to another home." And the girl did. (But first the girl wrote a fractured fairy tale of sorts...)And the couch was happy.

Look for the prequel coming soon!

* http://www.youthranches.org/

The Dragonfly Who Wasn't Meant To Be

I haven't made a piece of jewelry in ages.  My inspiration is slightly gone.

I've got about twenty pounds of seaglass and hundreds of paper Dixie cups filled with beads.  Then, a co-worker graciously gave me free pickings from an enormous box of rescued jewelry from her recently deceased kin's house.  That added to my idea bank and hoard of interesting beads and findings.  Dutifully, with my jeweler's loop, I examined every detail, contemplating the engineering and hoping to able to construct and repurpose some wonderful new things.  I separated the bits by color and material, bagged up some pieces that I wanted to repair, and admired my "workshop".

Thanks to my new influx, the inspiration bug bit.  Some time around the start of the school year, I sat down to restring a lovely "antique" necklace made out of several strands graduated milkglass beads which was secured with a golden wing shaped clasp.  One strand appeared to still be in good working order, so I left that one alone to use as a reference.

Restringing the broken strands was a major headache!  Many of the original beads were missing and I had to  really work to find beads from my stash that would be suitable matches in size and color.  The thread was greasy and just disintegrated (some times inside of the hole for the bead).  I had to soak the beads in a gritty grease eating soap and then use an old toothbrush to scrub the beads and finally leave them in the sun to dry and regain their iridescence.  Just finding beads and cleaning them took several sittings.

Then, it was time to actually lay out the materials, try to factor in the length, size, shape, color, drape, knot tying, and where to work in some sea glass.  (Simply recreating a necklace isn't what I'm all about.  I must include seaglass...even if it's just a little dangle.)  I set the strands out, tried to estimate the length and to have them drape at equal increments.  *Sigh*

Finally I figured it out and used cotton embroidery floss to string.  Because the prethreaded stuff is so expensive I use my mom's old cross stitch thread with clear finger nail polish on the end to strengthen it and function as a needle.  Once it was all "done" it was time to focus my energy on the clasp.

The clasp looked like two sets of elongated golden wings.  Aha!  It's a dragonfly!  I'd tie all the strands onto that and hang a rectangular shaped piece of seaglass from it to make the dragonfly's body.  My assistant principal collects dragonflies.*  I determined that I would make this necklace for her.  Working with renewed purpose, I loved the way it was turning out!

Proudly, I wore the finished piece to church the next day...testing out the final look and function.  All good!

When we got home, I unhooked the clasp and set the necklace on the counter.  My daughter picked it up to admire it and in slow motion... It.  Fell.  Apart!  Beads were rolling off the counter, bouncing onto the floor, and finally hiding under the refrigerator and stove (for ever more).  *Sigh*

Trying to find meaning in this disaster, I eventually just collected up what I could find, put it in a bowl and that is where it still lies.

Except for a brief moment of inspiration during the Christmas break, when I discovered my drill chuck was stripped beyond repair, I haven't made a piece of jewelry since.

Yesterday I set up my new drill, washed down the table tops, and surveyed my "workshop".  My hope is to rekindle my creative thoughts.  Perhaps trying to rework the dragonfly clasp was never meant to be.   "So, fly he did."

*The Dragonfly
Once, in a little pond, in the muddy water under the lily pads,
there lived a little water beetle in a community of water
beetles.  They lived a simple and comfortable life in the pond
with few disturbances and interruptions.

Once in a while, sadness would come to the community when one of
their fellow beetles would climb the stem of a lily pad and
would never be seen again.  They knew when this happened; their
friend was dead, gone forever.

Then, one day, one little water beetle felt an irresistible urge
to climb up that stem.  However, he was determined that he would
not leave forever.  He would come back and tell his friends what
he had found at the top.

When he reached the top and climbed out of the water onto the
surface of the lily pad, he was so tired, and the sun felt so
warm, that he decided he must take a nap.  As he slept, his body
changed and when he woke up, he had turned into a beautiful
blue-tailed dragonfly with broad wings and a slender body
designed for flying.

So, fly he did!  And, as he soared he saw the beauty of a whole
new world and a far superior way of life to what he had never
known existed.

Then he remembered his beetle friends and how they were thinking
by now he was dead.  He wanted to go back to tell them, and
explain to them that he was now more alive than he had ever been
before.  His life had been fulfilled rather than ended.

But, his new body would not go down into the water.  He could
not get back to tell his friends the good news.  Then he
understood that their time would come, when they, too, would
know what he now knew.  So, he raised his wings and flew off
into his joyous new life!


~Author Unknown~
 

PCP: Check.

I went to my primary care physician today to proceed with my first step in being cleared for the hysterectomy.  The doctors have moved to a new location, which I found easily.  The new facility is located on the corner of the block.  I turned right onto the side street and turned right again to pull into the parking lot.  However, I actually entered the lot the wrong way...That should have been a sign.

The office staff were cold, unfriendly and very involved answering the phones, shuffling papers, clicking the computer...  She needed me to sign in.  She needed to see my insurance card. She needed my copayment.  The computer wasn't working and so she held on to my debit card but then I was called back.  The nurse had to wait for the clerk and I had to wait for them both.

She said, "Stand on this scale."  She said, "Don't get off."  She said, "Stand up straight.  Look forward."  She measured my height and pressed a button...presto my BMI.  Ew!

We went into the examining room where she put a clip on my finger and stuck a thermometer in my ear.  Then she checked on the finger...she forgot to turn it on.  She checked my blood pressure next.  Again, she looked at the finger...no battery juice.  She wrote everything in my chart and then she left.

I picked up my Sudoku booklet, checked out the new construction of the office building, and waited for the doc.

As soon as she came in, I knew that I'd have to face the two things I dreaded:  You've gained weight.  You haven't been here in a while.  Damn if that wasn't exactly what she said.  "You haven't been here since 2009 and you've gained a lot of weight."  Here we go.  Shoulders slumped, I sounded like a whiney kid, "I know I've been here more recently than that.  I've had to get prescriptions filled.  I think I can remember getting an x-ray last summer and you would have had to write me a prescription for that."  The doctor dismissed those comments and went on to update my file.

"Are you still taking 25 mcg of Synthroid?" she asked.

"No.  I take 125 and I've been on that for a few years."

Shaking her head, she scribbled in a one before the 25 to indicate it was one hundred twenty five mcg.  We talked about my other health issues and she took notes.  As I was answering her I reiterated that I know that I had been to see her more recently than 2009 because I had the ablation in 2010 and needed clearance for that procedure.  While she was writing, I noticed that the first three letters on my chart were W.O.L.  (They have giant letter stickers on the side tab of the folder so that they can file them in alphabetical order on enormous sliding bookshelves.)  Then, I spoke up again and reminded the doctor that I have a hyphenated name and that most places file things under my maiden name which technically comes before my married name.  Listening to my heart and lungs, she said, "You know, you might be on to something here.  I remember your hyphenated name.  (She's a hyphenated name too and so therefore we have some unspoken kinship.)  I'll check on that as soon as I'm done."

Sure enough!  There are two patients with the same name and both of us take Synthroid.  Well, that explains a lot.  I haven't gained as much weight as she thought and I was seen by her last year.  Whew!

The doctor had ordered an EKG which they were able to do in the examining room.  In came the "oh-so-friendly-nurse" with the machine.  She grumbled, "Remove your top and bra and put on this paper cape with the opening in the front." and walked out.  I squinched up my face when she left and thought,  "Open your mouth when you talk.  Enunciate."

When she returned, she was all jolly.  "What is that that you are doing?  Is that Sukoku?  How do you play that?  How do you know when you get the right numbers?  How's your husband?  Is he home?  Are you enjoying being together during Spring Break?  What grade do you teach?  Do you like what you do?"  She was chatting away as she hooked me up to the EKG machine.  Happy.  Happy.  La, la, la.  "OK, you're all done.  Get dressed, hun, the doctor will be in as soon as she checks the EKG."

Feeling a bit schizophrenic, I got dressed and resumed my Sudoku while I waited for the doctor to return with the results...which were fine.

As I went to check out, the other "oh-so-cheery-clerk" informed me that Humana had made an error in their system.  My primary care physician is listed as my kids' pediatrician.  Calling Humana while I was still in the office, I thought back to the chart mix up.  Thank God I continued to speak up!  What are the odds of this?   Humana fixed their mix up and I was finally done.

I should have seen the "Do Not Enter/Wrong Way" signs in the parking lot when I drove in and then I should have braced myself for this bass ackward experience.

How Way Leads On To Way

We planned on going to see the archaeological dig site at Weedon Island get closed up, so off we went...Summer in her rain boots, Nicholas Indy with his hopes high, and me as the photographer/bug swatter.

Nicholas was in charge of the map and blazed the trail.  I had highlighted the route from when we were there two weeks ago and he remembered the way!  

Arriving before they opened the dig site, we were careful not to disturb anything.

Once Bob (the archeologist) arrived with his supplies and team, they took down the caution tape and removed the tarp to reveal the 80+ cm. deep hole.  Two skinks, a frog, and a cockroach had taken up residence during the work week and were carefully removed.

Skinks are very different than our usual Anole lizards.

Nicholas was right in the thick of it.

Last week they found these chirt pieces and a small chard of pottery.

An interesting lady came by.  She had very obviously dyed jet black fuzzy hair, no bra, and a very handsome walking stick.  As she approached the site, she looked up at the old oak tree and greeted it warmly.  She and Bob spoke to each other and then she hovered her hand above the unearthed chirt, feeling the energy from long ago people...thousands of years.  (Summer and I did the same, but didn't feel anything.)  The Lorax like woman reminded Bob to be careful with the roots, said good bye to the tree, steadied herself with the aid of her walking stick and hobbled back down the path out of sight.

And then it was our time to go.  

Although I don't have a single tree that I greet and speak for, I do have a "secret spot" (see The Education of Little Tree to fully understand the meaning of that phrase).  This is my spot.  Although the path  is warn down by many other visitors, it's MINE.  This is one of my favorite places in the world.  You can spin around in a full circle and not see any trace of man made structures...no buildings, no trees felled by chain saw, and usually no evidence of trash.  Although the air smells of low tide, I love it.  It's like a drug.  

On this trip I added to my collection of washed up shoe photos.  I love finding shoes!  I imagine the person who was wearing the shoe, the circumstances in which the shoe was lost, the travels that shoe has made with and without the person who once owned it, the lovely mixed meanings of the words:  sole/soul (only one, shoe/foot, the soul who wore it), wander and lost ("Not all who wander are lost"), pair and mix matched pair, sneaker (as in the type of shoe and as in who I am:  a sneaker in the woods) and on and on...    

And finally, my perfunctory:  "Two roads diverged in a wood...and I, I took the one less traveled by."

Spring Break List

1.  Go to Weedon Island to watch a group of archaeologists close up a dig.
     Two weeks ago my son and I were on the paths of Weedon Island, which is a nature preserve that features boardwalks, elevated berms between tangles of mangroves, and a "museum" that documents Weedon Island's unique history:  Indian community, an airport, mosquito control, power plant...  We came across some archaeologists from USF who were excavating a site looking for arrow heads.  They hypothesized that under the nearby tree, Indians may have sat while they formed their arrow heads.  They had found "flakes" when a post hole was being dug to set up a boundary line fence.  My son was "invited" to return to watch them close up the dig.  When we were there the hole was only about six inches deep and about two feet across.  They had planned on digging down THREE feet, skimming and sifting each inch!

2.  Attend a parens teacher conference for my daughter.
     My daughter is a talented math student.  She is freakishly capable of solving problems.  But she doesn't know her times tables quickly.  (She figures them out using skip counting patterns that don't even match sometimes.  However, her answer is usually right.)  Her biggest problem lies in attention to detail.  Her handwriting is sloppy.  She doesn't read the directions carefully.  When doing her scratch work, she often transfers the numbers incorrectly.  We've had her vision, hearing, IQ, and speech/language processing tested.  The results are all passing but there's a kink somewhere in the system.
     Her math grades are poor.  Hiring a tutor might help.  Since she understands the "how-to" of geometry, fractions, problem solving, I'm not sure of how to help/reward/punish her.  Drill facts?  Write the directions dozens of times?  Get a "Bop-It" to reinforce listening skills?
     Even as a struggling math student myself and an elementary school teacher, I can't figure her out.  It's like I'm watching her at a fork in the road.  I'm at the end of a smooth road, waving to her, shouting, "Come down this path!"  But she is going down the pitted, twisted, treacherous other road and calling to me for help.  Ugh!

3.  Visit my primary care physician for the first step before my hysterectomy.
     Oh joy!

4.  Take my car to be serviced.
     The driver's side window makes a grinding crackling noise.  The tire pressure light is on despite no obvious tire issues.  A plastic "hook" broke off of the canvas on the inside of the convertible top.  A plastic part keeps falling off the glove box.  (I put it back on myself, and currently it's fixed.  Yeah me!)

5.  Set up my new drill.
6.  Exercise.
7.  Work on my crossword puzzles and Sudoku books.
8.  Read.
9.  Hang out with my husband.
10.  Relax.

People Who Cross My Path

As a teacher who is not responsible for a homeroom, I am assigned a duty at arrival and dismissal.  My job is to help people cross the the street at the exit of our parking lot.  I've been doing this job every day for the last four or five years.  In that time a lot of people have crossed my path...literally!

Some days on my way in to school I see a man who walks/jogs and I feel a special kinship with him.  We have the exact same hand weights, he's thick around the middle, chews gum, listens to an "old fashioned" headset with antennae, has braces on his joints, and just generally seems like every step is a chore.  He goes through phases with his exercise.  Some days I see him early in the morning when it is still dark, other days I see him on my way home from work, and I even see him in the late afternoon while I am out doing my own exercise.  I'm proud of him.  He works hard at walking/jogging and he is persistent...although not always consistent.

Then there's an older lady that I see who walks on Bayshore in the early morning.  She always has on a windbreaker, short shorts, and a newsboy cap.  She's there EVERY day...rain or shine.  Only once did I see her walking and holding the hand of an older man who I assume is her husband.  What I love about her most of all is that she picks up trash and carries it with her until she gets to the next garbage can.  I've never actually seen her face but I recognize her outfit and gait.  She doesn't know it, but she inspires me.

Almost every day at around 6:45 a.m. I see the following folks walking along Memorial Highway:  There's a Spanish guy who walks with a cane and talks on his cell phone; and a chubby Asian lady who wears a black and white checked jacket; a heavy Black man with baggy jeans who pushes a stroller with only one hand...

"The Church Man" crosses my path every day at about 7:25.  The Catholic church up the street from my school, has daily mass at 7:00, and he goes every single day.  Some days when it is rainy I see him in a car but other than that rare occasion, he walks.  He comments on our school marquee, acts flattered when I stop the cars for him, and notices when I've not been on my duty post.  I really don't know anything about him, but he is part of my daily routine.  He's shared with me that on certain days when a different priest officiates, he is "late".  I worry about him when he's not there by 7:35 or so.

I had planned on writing about people who cross my path since last week.  In fact, I had already even started writing this post, but then I didn't finish it.  But then...  I GOT A HIGH FIVE!

For ages I have felt that all people who are suffering through tough exercise should high five each other as they cross paths.  Forcing myself to run and fake enjoyment, I have made it my passive aggressive mission to wave or say "Hi" to all other exercisers.  I can't stand it when you are on a long stretch of sidewalk, seeing someone coming toward you, and then when we get close the person averts their eyes.  Grr!

My passive aggressive running acknowledgement has finally paid off!  This week I was suffering through the final mile of a terrible run* and an absolute stranger put up his hand and said, "You go, girl!".  We high fived as we went our different directions.  Finally!  Does that guy even know how awesome he is?  He made my day!!!

I am inspired to be more attentive to those who cross my path.  I want to be the person with the outstretched hand.

*The first mile I ran was 13:80's.  The second mile I walked and was 13:30's...FASTER than my stupid jogging!  *Sigh*  The third mile, which I ran, was the fastest mile at 13:20's.  How is that even possible?

Race Recap

Yesterday I ran in the Gasparilla Distance Classic.  Here's a snippet...

I woke up rested, had my coffee as per usual, ate my so yummy Balance bar (thanks to my neighbor for hooking me up with an awesome bag of goodies), and checked my ipod to be sure the songs were right for the day.  This is my "Exercise Playlist":

Another Way to Die (Jack White and Alicia Keys)

God in Me (Mary Mary)

Freakkum Dress (Beyonce)

Ring the Alarm (Beyonce)

Bootylicious (Destiny's Child)

Low (Flor Rida)

Play (Jennifer Lopez)

Ain't It Funny (Jennifer Lopez)

Yeah (Usher)

Let's Get Loud (Jennifer Lopez)

Halo (Manic Drive)

Big Belly Man (Mac Fingal)

Party Rock Anthem (LMFAO)

Paris (Grace Potter and The Nocturnals)

Domino (Jessie J)

Sexy and I Know It (LMFAO)

Without You (David Guetta and Usher)

Stronger (Kelly Clarkson)

Good Feeling (Flo Rida)

Price Tag (Jessie J)

Run (Matt Nathanson and Sugarland)

What a wacko collection!  These are the songs I never tire of.  Each song brings new energy and the lyrics either are so stupid and corny that I can just let my IQ plummet or the lyrics are so meaningful that each time I hear them I find a new level of understanding.  This is the first time that I've ever looked at this list of songs and it feels strange to see this.  It's like a little glimpse inside the inner workings of my mind and the mental tricks I have invented just to get through the torture of running.

Running is hard for me.  I'm almost 42 years old.  At one point in the last few years I weighed as much as 270 pounds and on the day I had my Lap-Band undone I weighed in the 140's.  I'm currently somewhere in between.  When I ran in the Gasparilla in 1999, I was over 200 pounds and that was 13 years ago.  I used to wear two bras, a leotard, and two one piece body suits to keep all of the parts in place when I ran.  (And a baggy top over all of that.)  Now I wear one bra, a tank top, and an exercise skirt.

I arrived at the starting area about 30 minutes before the official start time.  This year was the first year that the pack was to start in waves.  I was in the middle group.  That meant that I had 40 minutes to kill before the actual start.  I listened to music, looked at my Pinterest inspirational pins, checked out my "competition", and thought about how pleased I was that this course was set up differently than the 1999 race.  The start line was near the Davis Islands bridge and I had remembered when Cindy met me on the Brorein bridge and it was nice to know that I wasn't going to need to pass that spot.  As I waited to start, I knew that Cindy was already with me.  

I didn't run the whole 5K but I did improve my time by almost ten minutes.  I ran until I got to Howard Ave. where my son and GrandMark were waiting for me.  After some kisses and an offer of a Bloody Mary, I got to the "turn around point" and started to head north up Bayshore Blvd.  When I got to about the two mile mark, I began to really feel the heat.  That section of the road is black top, there's no shade, and the wind was 15-20 mph.  I had to walk.  I force myself to not start or stop at a "man-made" object:  the end of the block, a stop sign, a mailbox, etc.  I only use "things from nature" like trees, a bird, a shrub, grass growing through a crack in the sidewalk, etc.  However, that stretch is like a desert. 

Running on the right side of the road, where the run/walk folks were, I could see the finish line area ahead.  Because of the curve of the road, I knew that the distance to the end was farther than I could manage.  So, knowing that I needed a break, I walked from one palm tree to the fifth palm tee.  Then ran for one song on my ipod and repeated the walk/run cycle until I got to the Davis Islands bridges.  There were lots of folks cheering and I heard several compliments on my skirt.  That made me smile.

Eventually, I crossed the finish line without seeing my daughter and husband.  We met up at Publix after I got my medal.  What a sight for sore eyes!  

I did it.

1999

2012

Sneaker Charm

From my heart...

The Gasparilla race website is asking for your favorite Gasparilla race memory and that got me to thinking.  Although I'm not going to share my memory on their site...  Here's mine.  

About fifteen years ago my sister, Cindy, and her husband, Rob, moved to Tampa from Naples.  My sister and I weren't really "friends" then and it was awkward when they moved into "my" town.  Of course the two of them promptly registered for the 15K Gasparilla, which was something that was very unfamiliar to me.  At that time I had never ever even taken one jogging step.  I couldn't understand why someone would pay money to run nine miles.  I just thought, "Whatever.  That's some Cindy and Rob extreme thing."

For some reason my sister was able to convince me to register.  (Remember we weren't really "friends" then...just sisters and as the little sister, I did what she said to do.)  She told me that I should/could run in the 15K.  She said that it would be easy.  She said that the first couple of miles would be fun and the energy from the pack would just whisk me along, no problem.  I had enough sense to only register for the 5K.

I "trained" for that with a gal from work who lived near by my house.  She was tough on me.  I hated every single solitary step.  I couldn't understand how every step sucked so bad and why I couldn't get to a point when I was able to make progress.  I was excellent at step aerobics...I could do that forever and never miss a beat or even get tangled up in my step.  Again, I couldn't imagine why anyone would pay money to run in a race.  What do you get in the end?  A t-shirt?  Well, that's dumb.

Eventually the race day came.  My sister and her husband did the 15K.  My co-worker/trainer didn't run with me but another friend was going to run along with me.  My husband and my best friend were going to be waiting for me at the finish line.  I had on my t-shirt and had made myself a mix-tape (on cassette) of some of my favorite songs.  I was ready and scared to death.  What was I doing?!

We started running about a block and a half before we even got to the start line.  Over the Brorein Bridge, making the turn by Publix I spied my sister and her husband.  They had just finished their 15K and HOPPED IN AND RAN MY RACE WITH ME!  I had barely gone a mile, down hill even...I think I may have been walking already!  And they just ran right next to me.  I wanted to stop but my sister said to just go until the end of that block, or to the stop sign, or to the next house...  I couldn't believe that she/they were basically dragging me along and they had just finished running nine miles.  WTF?!

I finished that 5K in about 47 or 48 minutes.  People were walking faster than I was running.  That was my first ever Gasparilla Distance Classic.

Later that year I ran in a race in Y-Bor City called Night Moves.  I think that I ran in that race with some people from work.  We weren't running together but we all registered for the same race and were planning on meeting up once we were finished.  My sister and her husband also ran in that race.  The course went from behind Frankie's Patio (now Centennial Park) and on 7th or 8th, over by the "pink projects", turned around at the train station, back up 7th, behind Empire and then finally... the finish line.  That night was hot and sticky.  That course went on FOREVER!  I swear they didn't measure that thing correctly.

My sister was more than two thirds done and spotted me from the other side of the "pink projects" and HOPPED ACROSS THE MEDIAN and ran the whole damn thing again!  WTF?!  Why would someone do that?  She was basically done.  It was a million degrees with a million percent humidity and we were in the 'hood AT NIGHT!  Again, she basically dragged me to the finish line.

We did this running/dragging thing several more times.  But I eventually quit running altogether.  We would joke that although I ran a 5K race, it was a 15F (F standing for the number of times I hollered FUCK!)

Years passed.  My sister and I grew to be good friends.  She got divorced and eventually moved back to the east coast (Jupiter, FL).  The summer and fall of 2004 brought a lot of hurricanes and we evacuated to each other's houses and that helped us to remain physically close and involved in each other's lives.

During that time she was sick and couldn't shake off her nagging cold.  She took a lot of medicines and even got a B12 shot (which is remarkable because my sister would rather eat dog dirt than take a shot!) but she still kept coughing and feeling run down.  Eventually, I suggested to her that she should get a chest x-ray because I thought she might have pneumonia.  It turns out, that x-ray showed "some signs of malignancy" and within about a week she was in the hospital with lung cancer.  Lung cancer that couldn't be operated on or be cured.

She was intending to come to Tampa to visit Moffit on a Friday.  In preparation for coming to Tampa, she was showering at her house but couldn't continue because she couldn't catch her breath.  My mom took her to the emergency room around noon.  I arrived at the hospital the next morning (a Saturday).  At about 4:00 we met with an oncologist who explained to us that this was some sort of genetic mistake.  Her cancer could not be effectively treated.  She would take a six hour chemo treatment.  The doctor explained to us that it would be dangerous and Cindy announced that if she wasn't going to make it that she wanted the plug to be pulled and to not have any heroic measures performed.

After the doctor left her hospital room, I got in her bed with her and hugged her and cried.  I told her that I wanted to be there for her like she was for me when I was running those races.  For me, running was something that I just could not conquer and the fact that she was willing to re-run those steps with me was the most kind action!  I wanted so very much to be that person for her as she was facing a task that she could not conquer.  Through tears, I explained that to her.

She died at around 8:00 or 9:00 that night, a half hour into the six hour chemo treatment.  My sister had asked us to leave while she took the chemo.  We were at her house (only about 5 minutes away) when my dad got a call to return to the hospital because her heart had stopped.  When we got there, they were trying to resuscitate to her.  I stood in the doorway of her hospital room, watching, and hoping that she knew that I was there for her.  She wasn't alone.  I was there with her.

And so, tomorrow I will run in the Gasparilla Distance Classic.  It will be the day after her birthday.  I will run by myself but I will not be alone.

Cindy after running the first ever Gasparilla/Hops marathon.

Slow-n-Steady

Two nights ago I did one crossword puzzle.  I had to look in the back to check my guesses and spelling nine times.  (Insert Ferris Bueller's principal's voice here.)  Nine times!  Yep, nine times.  And the title of this book is "Fast and Easy Crossword Puzzles".  So, today I timed myself and tallied the number of times I had to check the solutions page.  I started at 6:50 and didn't finish until 7:25.  I had to check the back only six times.   Then, I did another one in twenty minutes and only had to check the back three times.  I feel like that is still hopelessly lame but it's a start and it's kind of like training for a marathon...slow-n-steady wins the race.

Speaking of training...
This weekend I will run in a 5K race.  I've been running off and on for a couple of years.  As I get stronger, running gets easier.  When I was running a lot I could do six or more miles without any trouble.  Mostly I stopped running just because I was bored and just generally wanted to be done.  I never felt that my muscles couldn't go any farther...just bored.  Then I actually hurt my knee and didn't run for about six months to a year.

This school year I stopped exercising in the morning before school and we started exercising in the evenings as a family.  That was fun but kind of inconsistent.  Some days I had homework to do, some days my daughter had homework, some days .... and on and on.  In November, December, and January I ran a few times each week.   Then, I got this wild hair and looked up the Gasparilla race website.  I think that was in February and at the time there were about eight or nine weeks of training until race day.  However, my period went all kinds of wacky and sidelined me.  The race is this weekend.  My goal is to run the whole thing and not stop to walk at all.

We shall see...