Summer Fitness Challenge

We’re mostly done with school work.  The reading and reports left require minimal participation on my part, so I am free to pursue other interests, like cleaning my house and sewing.  I decided to step up my exercise program a bit and take on the Crossfit Workout of the Day.  My husband loves this program, but he also loves a workout partner, so perhaps we can do it together.  Or at least commiserate.

Fortunately, I told him of my plans.  That link to the workout of the day reveals a very challenging workout.  It would take me all day long to do the number of reps they give.  And I would be so sore, I would never do it again.  My husband showed me the link for the scaled workouts.  If you click on the Crossfit WOD topic, and then go to the current day, someone has kindly suggested a modified routine for the “Pack” and for “Puppies.” 

Even doing the Puppies, modified and as lightweight as I possibly could (I didn’t do pull-ups, I did lat pull-downs), all I can say is OUCH. 

OUCHOUCHOUCHOUCHOUCH.  I’m determined to do this, but OUCH.

I have to go take a shower right now before my arms are too stiff to wash my hair.

Anybody else taking on a fitness challenge this summer?

Memorial Day

May 5, 1868
The 30th day of May, 1868, is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion, and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village, and hamlet church-yard in the land. In this observance no form of ceremony is prescribed, but posts and comrades will in their own way arrange such fitting services and testimonials of respect as circumstances may permit. 

Flags should be flown at half-mast until noon.

Enjoy your parties, but be sure to remember the dead.  Pray for them, and the families and friends left behind.

Blue Star Museums

Once again, the Blue Star Museums Initiative begins tomorrow, Memorial Day, and goes until Labor Day.  Last summer, we happily took advantage of the free museum admission offered to military families at participating facilities.  I noticed one new addition in my local area to last year’s list, so check your state, even if there was nothing on it last year.  This is only the second year running, so we can hope that it will only get wider participation every year.

To everything, there is a season

A few weeks ago, I’d had it with my cordless phones.  They were fairly old (in terms of modern technology), and were no longer holding a charge.  I had replaced the chargers and the batteries to no avail.  I went to Amazon and found the best rated, cheapest phones they had and got rid of the old set.

I’m happy enough with the new ones, and some features are better than the old ones.  One thing I really miss, though, is that the new ringtones are rather boring, and I can’t assign them to different numbers.  With my old set, if I heard “Old McDonald” I knew it was my friend, Christie. 

I thought I’d be ok with the change until my caller ID identified my husband as the caller. 

No more “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.” 

Makes me sad.


Weeks ago, I was lying on the porch swing with my head in my husband’s lap.  He was watching the fish jump out of the lake in the back while I lightly dozed and just enjoyed relaxing with him.

“Would it traumatize you if, many many years from now, I died lying here like this?” I asked him.

He looked down at me.

“It’s just so pleasant, so peaceful.  I’d just like to lie here like this and fall asleep and not wake up.”

“You’re not allowed to die,” was his response.

On Saturday, Billy came into the house to report that the swing had broken.  I investigated and discovered that rust, and not rambuctious children, was the culprit.  When I told Bill the terrible news, he said that he had seen lots of rust the last time he put it together (when we moved here over a year ago), and knew it wouldn’t make it to the next house.

“But I was going to die in that swing,” I moaned.

“You are not allowed to die – ever,” he insisted.

Each of us, separately, decided that perhaps the swing did not need replacing.  Then all day yesterday, we each kept thinking, “Oh, I think I’ll go sit in the – oh, maaaan, I guess not!”

We agreed, we need to replace it with something.  Maybe not a swing, maybe just a couch.  We have plenty of seats, but we want to sit next to each other.  I want to lie down with my head in his lap.

Even if he won’t let me die, ever.

Learning via natural (stinky) consequences

On returning from a three day road trip, the children were instructed to bring their dirty clothing to the laundry room.  They had been swimming in a hotel pool, and the bathing suits, still wet, had been packed up amongst the dirty clothes.  Yuck.

Fritz didn’t get the memo and unpacked his dirty things into the hamper in his bedroom.  I asked him to bring it down, but he moaned about the trip up the stairs again.  I let the matter drop.

Hours later, it was bedtime.  Fritz reappeared downstairs after the goodnights.

“Mom, where’s that spray stuff? My room smells.”

I gave him the Febreze and suggested he bring his dirty laundry down.  But what do I know? 

Sharing the same vision, or not

After camping this weekend, Bill and the boys set up the tent in the backyard to dry out.  In the evening, Bill was putting it away, and I went to help him with the rain fly, which is not rectangular.  He started to object to my pattern of folding.

“I usually fold the sides in to make it a rectangle,” he explained.

“It is a rectangle,” I insisted, gesturing to my not-very-rectangly shape. “You just have to think outside the box.”

“I was thinking outside the box,” he said.  “But my box is different than your box.”

Somehow, we make this marriage work.