Proof

So many of us had heard the rumors that Kara was working out. I now offer proof to the world. Kara and Lisa came into my gym with me last night as guests. I saw, with my own two eyes, that Kara knows how to opperate a treadmill. Lisa approaches excercise like a mad woman. She was running up-hill on the treadmill, and then doing this horrible "personal trainer" setting on the eliptical. It looked very painful.

We had been on the treadmill for 12 mins when Lisa and Kara began to ask how long we were really going to stay on the blasted thing. So we moved to the eliptical machine. They lasted 20 mins there. Fortunately, for me, Denise came in and worked out next to me so that I had someone to talk to. Unforunately, by that time, I had forgotten that I had my camera with me, so I didn't take any more photos.

I am feeling very proud of myself because I have worked out twice in 4 days. Pitiful, no? I really need Jenine to start working out with me again!

Stylish Me

I don't care about the Academy Awards, or the Oscars, or whatever the latest show was. Aren't there award shows on all the time? It's the Fancy Dress Ball of the 21st Century. Lots of people dressed up as someone important. But, those of you who tune in are all just spectators. How is that fun? I would go and wear a lovely dress and have my face in People Magazine. That would be fun. I would wear something tasteful and just slightly dramatic. I think I would wear my hair down. What would you wear? Maybe I would watch the TV show to see what everyone wears, I can see why you might do that.
Today, I am wearing black capri sweatpants with a red GAP tanktop. My white socks add contrast. And I haven't showered. I am quite lovely, really.
I haven't showered because that means I hold out hope of actually working out.
Many of the people I know don't shower every day. Have I mentioned this before? I find the fact absolutely fascinating. I was raised that all Christians Who live and breath under the Stars and Stripes wash themselves daily. But, with a touch of perfume and a ponytail, no one need know.
It's time to get the kids up and ready for school. Have a great day, friends!

Dirty Laundry

SO the Harry Potter essay sparked a little excitement. Lots of discussion among the Christian ladies. Who knew? Just wait until I write about how I lied about my age. That should give good reason to question my eternal salvation. Glory! Now I am anathema to those that love Harry for saying that the witchcraft gives me the creeps, and to the Holy ones because I allowed such EVIL into the minds of my babies.
It wasn't that bad, I am just being dramatic. It did generate quite a bit of lively discourse, though. It's quite interesting to see how much we are affected by such questions. Perhaps the reason is twofold; we each want very much to be right before God, and we each want the avoid being judged.

I did something awful today. So horrible that perhaps I have forever darkened the joyous rays of the sun.
I interrupted.
It's true!
I got all into the conversation, and just brutally plowed over someone in my enthusiasm. I drew silent immediately, and watched as the dark clouds roiled into position, the planets spun out of their orbits, and Mount Vesuvius Erupted.
It's moments like that when you realize that some people are WAY WAY too easily offended.
May I just say that?
There are so many real things to be unhappy about, or to be stressed over. Let the little stuff go, for heaven's sake. It's Pride. I recognize it because I have a bunch, too. It's ugly, though. It makes you think you are always correct and The Most Important Ever. You aren't. Neither am I. When you get all self important because you think you are Infallible, you are acting like the real evil one (and I don't mean Harry Potter). Because he wanted to be God, too. It really isn't working so well for him, if you know what I mean. It isn't working so well for you, either. Perhaps you've noticed.

Well, then. I feel better already.

The Devil Made Me Do It

Sometimes I get really inspired to blog by reading other people's blogs. But they always seem to make astute, pop-culturish jokes about American Idol and I don't watch TV. Really, I always just write about me, which is a tad Narcissistic.
OK, it's a lot Narcissistic.
But I watch movies, albeit, not very often. I kind of sold my soul by recently watching the entire Harry Potter series with my Formerly Untainted Children.
It was because of a blog. See, I read all about how this one determined Christian woman was trying to keep Harry Potter out of the public schools on account of how he was a gateway to the occult. Children everywhere are casting spells and becoming Satan's minions from reading Harry Potter. Perhaps that's true. I never have read Harry Potter. But this one woman was becoming rather Ridiculous! because of her obsessive focus on censoring a bunch of books she had never read. And I though, "hmmmmmm I am like that, too." (It seems to me that Christians should love people without trying to impose our standards upon them. If you don't want your kids learning secular stuff, then take them out of the secular schools! But that's a topic for another day...)
I have never done the Potter books or movies because I know there's witchcraft and magic in them. Plus, I thought I'd like them a whole lot, then I'd be shunned by the Christian community. So I decided to rent the first movie and make it an educational opportunity. The boys and I watched with a discerning eye and discussed what we saw.
Very interesting.
We are big fans of the fantastical.
There is a distinct difference between this series and, say Narnia, or The Lord of the Rings. Funny, because I had heard that, but I had never had anyone really explain what the difference was.
Harry and friends are learning to employ, basically, dark arts. You have sorcery, witchcraft, divination, and channeling. God is pretty dang clear that we are not to have anything to do with that kind of stuff. Now, I love Gandalf and fairy godmothers; so, I'll be the first to tell you that I don't know where to draw the line.
In those other series, the "people" are intrinsically good or evil with powers as part of their DNA. Like angels or demons, sort of. No humans are studying to employ these mysterious and unpredictable Spells.
I guess that the truth is, I get the heebie-jeebies watching some of the Sorcerer stuff on Harry Potter. There's something in me that says that's really wrong, God hates this stuff. I don't get that with Gandalf.
You know that evil witch queen in Willow? The one who calls down powers on Evil to get rid of the baby? Same freaky badness.
All that said, I like Harry Potter. The character is quite wonderful. His story is quite heroic. And the truth? I will likely watch the rest of the series as they come out at the theater. Does that make me hypocritical? Yeah? Maybe so.

Posting people

This is a delightful chance to show off a few family members. My sister, Dani, is holding her daughter, Maddie. My Mother is holding her daughter, Amanda. You can't tell from the photo, but Mother's hair is almost as long as Amanda's and twice as thick. You'd think that being related to these four, I would have gotten the Great Hair Gene, the Great Eyes Gene, and the Size Two Jeans. Alas. God gave me the Great Personality Gene. So I grew up to be a blogger. Go figure.

relationships

I had a terrible time trying to sleep last night. In fact, I woke at about 3 and couldn't go back to sleep. I tossed and turned and prayed, then played with my cell phone in the dark, and finally turned on the light and read for a while. I finally turned the lights off again about 5:30. D' woke me up at 6 with a bad dream and a bloody nose. I fell back to sleep. Shannon called at 8:30 to see about borrowing my skis. I gave up and went for the coffee.
But I was thinking, you see, as one does in the night. I was thinking about how flawed people are. Mostly I was thinking how I want to be Holy. No one ever describes me that way, because, well, I really don't act like it. We, all of us, have so much working against us. We have our pet sins, of course. But we also have those idiosyncrasies that make us unique. And our colorful experiences that contribute to fears or coping mechanisms.
Christian people fight against the stuff within, but it is still there. Others just sort of embrace it. I was thinking about how very much Jesus loves us as individual people, with all our foibles and oddities. He places such an importance upon the relationships that we have with one another. He even describes Himself to the world in terms of relationship. Marriage is a picture of His love for the church. There's the sheep/Shepherd picture, the Father/child analogy, the bride/Groom description.
Stuff like that gets really personal and messy.
My relationships are personal and messy. People are unpredictable, and they rarely do what I want. I may love someone with all my heart, but there's no guarantee that I will be loved the same way in return.
You and I have so much emotion to invest, and so much time and energy, because that's what it takes. Relationships are tough. It's constant work to keep the little resentments from taking root. It's so painful to love others the way that they need to be loved. But it's worth it!
And that is the point, is it not? God wants that kind of energy and emotion and time directed His way from you and me. When I share my heart with a girlfriend, or hang on a Lover's every word, it's a great big display of what God wants from me. When I set aside time to just be with Him, or run to read His letter to me, or confess how I know I've brought Him pain, Don't you suppose that brings Him Joy? It brings me joy when I do that!
I know lots of Christians who quip, "It's not a religion, it's a relationship!" But I know very few who abide with the Creator of All things as a personal and intimate friend. We become like those we spend time with, don't we? I wanna be like Jesus.

inconsistent blogging

My desk is a disaster zone, which may be why I haven't blogged all week.
I keep thinking that I will store up witty blogs to post from time to time when I don't have much to say. But it doesn't happen.
The latest development in our world is the lively addition of a trampoline in our backyard. The boys have been wanting one for years, so I promised to buy one with Tax Return money. What a blast! I keep kicking them off so that I can jump. That's good exercise! I can do a front flip, too. Don't be surprised if I break something else. My knee is already suffering from the exuberant bouncing out there.
Today's major project involved the moving of lots of furniture.
D' wanted the queen sized bed back in his room, and M' wanted the bunk bed out of his. We disassembled and moved and dusted and vacuumed and so forth. That's good exercise, too.
Now my office is better. I still need to organize some more. In fact, I need a ten-key, a filing cabinet, and a fax machine. Plus, I could use some of those desktop organizer thingys, and a new car. A small SUV with 4-wheel-drive and a ski rack on top, and a bike rack on the back. And stuff.
Oh, dear.
That's all I can think of for now. I resolve to be better at blogging consistently this week!

where's Richard Simmons?

I am never going to work out again. Jenine is ill this week, and cannot go to the gym. I am locked indoors with the devil- oops- I mean, children. I can't get out!
Do you remember the thigh master? It's a laughable contraption used for embarrassing one's self. I have one, and I pulled it out today. See, my latest theory is that just adding what activity I can will burn extra calories. A good idea, no?
So, the thigh master works only one muscle, but it's a doozy. It's that muscle on the inside of your leg, and way up high. There is no visible purpose for this muscle, so far as I can tell. I am baggy just there, like the flag of flabby skin under my arm when I wave. Same issue. I am very excited about the potential for this thigh master.
Who promoted the thigh master? Susan, something-or-other, wasn't it? She's about 50 and really firm still, which ought to clue us in. This baby must work.
I was doing it earlier and counting my reps like an obsessive compulsive. 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4....I have no idea how many I really did. But the process led me to another muscle involved. It's my lower back. Ouch!
Then I have this grip exerciser. You hold it in your hand and squeeze, and Squeeze. It doesn't seem to do much for my strength, but it sure is helping with my stress reduction.
What fad excercise thingys do you have?

Spotted WHAT?

This first photo is of me arriving to a tea party hosted by Meichelle's little girls.
The second photo is of a delicate British Treat-in-a-can. I think it's the ultimate in canned goodies, don't you?

And this photo shows the Graciously attired ladies around the table.

Personalities

My friend Cathy, whom I love, was just blogging about her weekend. She mentions personality types, which I think are very fun. She is Mel/Chol which means that her house is perfect and she is very artistic.
There's all sorts of names for the personality types, and lots of different tests, too. I like to keep it simple.
There's Melancholy, Choleric, Sanguine, and Phlegmatic.
Most of us have one dominant, and one somewhat-less-dominant.

Melancholy means you have a super clean house and are organized right into neurosis. You are also passionate and artistic. They are prone to moodiness on account of being deep thinkers. You also think I am writing about you at this very moment, and you will be certain, down deep, that I really hate you. I don't.

Sanguines are the exact opposite. They are messy and flighty and very very very fun. They are shallow thinkers whose moods change more frequently than anything you ever saw in your life. It's psychotic. You are the life of the party, and were likely a cheerleader. You will shrivel up and die if you think someone doesn't like you. Tranquilizers might help.

Cholerics are totally in charge and have never been wrong. Ever. They tend to have a flash temper, and they are always right about everything. They're great leaders...annoying...but great leaders. NASA? Run by cholerics. Politicians? Cholerics. CEOs? You got it. Tenderhearted? Not so much.

Phlegmatics are mellow as can be. They are very laid back, and easy going, and would be lazy if they had the energy. They are sarcastic. They have a will of iron, but it takes so much energy to implement! They are practical and levelheaded. They will like you until you give them reason not to, and then they will dislike you until the Second Coming.

I am Sanguine with a bit of Choleric. It's very fun to be me, and you should do what I say.
Most of my friends are Melancholy or Phlegmatic.
I think that's because you can't have two Sanguines in the same room. The energy level and general enthusiasm would reach maximum density and ignite, or something. People would die. It would be ugly.
I think that Phlegmatics watch Sangunies with a grim fascination. They know all that freakish fun loving will generate some kind of disaster. The Phlegmatic sighs heavily and waits until those pragmatic skills are needed to repair the damage.
And why do Melencholys stick around with me? Well, I think they stand agog. They have no evidence within themselves that life can be so altogether amusing and frivolous. It's both alarming and attractive. They keep a safe distance, because who really knows but that all that fun could unhinge the human mind? It's a reasonable question.

the stress of old age

My weight fluctuates like Oprah's.
No kidding.
I go from a very skinny size 4 to a more matronly 10. Up and down from year to year. I reshuffle my closet from time to time. There's a box of clothing marked "6," one marked "8" and there's the 4, and the 10. It's time to begin the descent. I have been sitting on my ever-expanding bottom ever since the doctor explained that my pinkie toe, though small, was split down the center.
I am finally healed, you know. I even have skied. Exercise is now possible.
But then I went to the doctor a week or so ago for a sinus infection. I mentioned to the doctor about my aching elbow. That was not so smart. He diagnosed me with tendonitis. His treatment of choice involved skewering my sore elbow with a long needle and a dose of cortisone. The beauty of this kind of shot is that it puts the ache of tendonitis right into perspective. I thought it hurt before! After the shot, it hurts much. much worse. Now I know that when he told me not to use it so much, he really meant it. It's like he backed up his command with a threat.
This means that I can't do push-ups. Or lift heavy weights. At this rate, I am becoming a heavy weight.
It's very annoying.
Even Kara is working out. She's addicted. Always before, she would have this alarming allergic reaction to exercise of any kind. She'd, like, shake and look all spooked. It's weird, because she actually claims to Like It now.
What kind of effective exercise can be done without over-stressing a weakened toe, or over-stressing a weakened elbow? I am falling apart, I tell you.