Empty Images & Short-Term Memory

I just tried to download pictures from my camera, and nothing was there.  Empty disc.  Here is what I remember:

The beautiful brown eggs from my brother's chickens.  They were speckly-warm reddish brown with rich, golden yolks.  Gone.  (Well, I could say they are re-purposed into Heath-Bar Pecan Cookies, hidden in oven so they don't disappear.  It's not just hiding them from the kids, but from me, too.  Out of sight is out of mind.)

Close-up views of Polly's quilt before I sent it away.  (And she loves it!  So glad!)

My new glasses.  Love them.  All me.  My last pair broke Harry-Potter-style right at the bridge of the nose.  I had to tape them together at work to drive home.  (If they had ORANGE ones, I would have gotten those.  Not metal-gold, not the same thing.  The new ones are pink on the inside, striped black and white on the side bars.  Called "Petunia" from our local W____-David-doesn't-like-store.  They have my prescription.  AND while I was picking up my glasses I met my walking buddy's other work-out buddy, another Keri.  She heard my name and asked me about my shin splints!)

Picture of my two young 3 & 4 year old friends making caramel popcorn yesterday.  Cute picture:  both on stools  snugged up to the counter, pulling the paper wrapper off of frozen butter sticks and putting them into the pot.  Popcorn EVERYWHERE.  We sang "I looked out the window and what did I see?" and had a great time.  I thought we had had an all dry "Dora the Explorer" panty day, but I found a small puddle and wet foot prints after she left---so sorry I missed that one.  It was inbetween changing a little brother diaper and getting out the play food and singing "All Creatures of Our God & King" with the puppet animals.  It warmed my heart when this young friend burst into chorus "Alleluiah" on her own.

Help me remember with words, what I failed to capture electronically.

Why I Need a Community: Q & Exercise

Left alone with my own thoughts, I often spiral into despair, start seeing negative-worse-case-scenario details.  I need to stay busy, distracted, active, positive, optimistic with action. 

I need to ask for help, talk to others, let go of the pride that makes me too independent.  Be vulnerable and real, honest, and not fear that it makes me look weak.

Polly's quilt is finished, finally.  T-shirts and ties from her late husband, sweet Bro. Scoville.  I found the Ethiopian-looking fabrics for the backing and behind the ties to fit in with his Peace Corps days.  Amazing how much personality comes through, just looking at this.  Quilting by my friend Shirley "Cabin in the Woods" pattern, on her long-arm.  I could not have finished this without her help.  It took a year longer than I promised.  But it is done and delivered (Brother John stopped by last night.)

Exercise by appointment works really, really well for me.  At the beginning of the summer, this neighbor-friend called me up and asked if I wanted to walk with her in the mornings.  She walks fast.  I huffed and puffed trying to keep up those first weeks.  Gave myself horrible shin splints.  Thought I would die.  But it has gotten easier.  I feel stronger.  I can breather easier.  My heart rate stays below 120 briskly walking at 3.8 miles an hour (John and I went to the gym today and used the machines with the technology). We weave in between our two homes, up and down the alleys for 45 minutes on school days, longer on Saturday/holidays.  Sunday we rest.  We've only been rained out once.  When she went on vacation she texted me that she was walking, and when I went, I told her I was, too.  There is  power in reporting in, being accountable, having a buddy who is expecting you, waiting for you.  On Labor Day we both showed up in sparkly t-shirts and I had to get a photo, when we looked beautiful, not all sweaty.  Do the scales lie?  The clothes fit better.  Still a long  way from my goal, but moving the right direction.  Walk & talk power.

Dearest

Morning exercise (too sunburned to go swimming today): I walked along the middle school fence parallel the train tracks until the fence ended, went into the woods 15 feet until the pathway trickled out.

I heard some rustling, crept slowly around a huge tree and froze.

I was downwind from her. Staring contest. Counted 30 heartbeats.

She moved her head up and down (reminded me of a dog's motions, trying to sniff?). I could see her nostrils flaring. Twitching ears. I tried not to blink, took shallow breaths, didn't swallow. Biggest eyes, ever!

We waited a minute. Two. Three?

She lifted her front leg and stamped. Again. It made me think of a bull readying to charge. Was she protecting a deer-creche?

I thought good-bye brain waves her direction and walked home.

Biking Us!

4.6 miles. Not all of it uphill, but there were 3 of those. John has been early morning biking for 3 weeks with Sam (sometimes Stewart & Max) in preparation for a scout 200 mile bike trip. Not in one day, like Stewart did.

John has been graciously inviting all of the rest of us. Yesterday I tried it for the first time. Emma came, too. And then we went again this morning: all but Suzu and Roxie. It is an impressive crowd of bikes! We get lots of waves and smiles and patient people as we all cross...

When I was much younger (10 years old) I remember imagining my future family doing whole-family physical activities, like hiking, camping, riding bikes together. There was a moment this morning of "Aha! This is it! This is what I wanted!"

Pedal through the pain. We will take tomorrow off, and then try it again Monday morning. John has been exploring all the nearby routes, trying for variety and a down-hill on the way home. You don't realize how hilly an area is until you are pedaling up it!

I am sure there are good life lesson-analogies for down-shifting in advance, preparing for the coming hill, relaxing on the smooth-sailing downhills, gathering your strength, building muscles by repetition, creating good family exercise traditions...