I don't move much. I was a sloth in a pretty recent incarnation, I just know it. Probably worked my way through some cold blooded lives too. I just don't remember being a physically active person. Spurts of fitness crazes here and there. I guess I liked it, obviously not enough to become my own
Cory Everson nor enough to avoid remaining soft bodied. Now having been a mama for more than 12 years, I guess I deserve to continue to remain soft bodied. My soft bodiedness has no ill effect on my health, I've dodged the obesity bullet.
And it sure
would be cool if is cool when I
move my ass. Really. I just know, too, that moving the muscles in my body creates a chemical reaction beyond my human understanding; it allows the whole of my body to work together. Seeing what I see, thinking what I think, hearing what I hear, all change the composite that is at any one time ~*me*~
Yesterday, I made the loop over to the abandoned campground (where Charlie got some glorious off-leash time, returning at the high-pitched kissing sound I make) and back around home again, through my favorite local neighborhood, listening to
Memiors of a Geisha.
We saw Juniper berries that look like little Easter Island faces
And moss covered, well,
everything, including this rock
And beautiful, strong, tall, evergreens, which remind me to keep the faith
And yet another rock, supporting yet more green life
a sign of young political activism, patriotism at its finest
a sign our children are important
a find that reminded me of my children
And lest one think we're drowning in green overload
the colors explode from everywhere
I long to eat such beautifully colored foods!!
another sign for me to see
and still more kinds of moss and green to admire
and graceful beauty of mushrooms
I sat for a moment in awe of this fungus
And later, when I was parked again, I watched The Dog Whisperer. Yeah, right in my own living room, Cesar gave me the what-for about our Charlie
issues. "Dogs wake up and they walk. It's what they do. You need to do that for your
dog." Because the dog's schedule is tied to mine (yep, that makes me the bitch) it's
my awakening that dictates the walk's beginning. So today, for the very first time of my life, save some bizarre weeks at Xian church camps with morning calisthenics, I was outside walking, the dog, within 15 minutes of waking.
Work starts Monday. I'll be scheduling
a dog walk before taking the bus to work. Hm. Let's see what happens tomorrow. For today, I moved. Yay me ♥
My first Sturgis Bike Rally, August 2001. Me & Amy, on our way to Sheryl Crowe with Fat Bastard (a term of endearment). It was just after this photo when the downpouring rain threatened our party, when FB said, "didn't you talk to your husband about this? isn't he taking care of it?" and just as we saw the exit sign, we entered the hasn't rained a teeny bit zone. We all thanked Mitch aloud. One of several, um, miracles he performed for FB; it was both a menace and, well, quite funny. Hey, at least he returned the tent. After 6 weeks.
My first Sturgis Bike Rally, August 2001. Me & Amy, on our way to Sheryl Crowe with Fat Bastard (a term of endearment). It was just after this photo when the downpouring rain threatened our party, when FB said, "didn't you talk to your husband about this? isn't he taking care of it?" and just as we saw the exit sign, we entered the hasn't rained a teeny bit zone. We all thanked Mitch aloud. One of several, um, miracles he performed for FB; it was both a menace and, well, quite funny. Hey, at least he returned the tent. After 6 weeks.
