End Of Summer

Taking a Hike

Here we are at the end of August already.  My gosh, how time flies.  This summer, so far, I’ve done a lot of hiking.  Two of the best trips took place in Sedona, with one being at the beginning of this month.  Years of exploring Sedona and I never knew of these hidden gems.  The most recent hike had us traveling along the red rock which opened up into a swimming hole.  People jumped off the cliffs into the water.  It was a very hot day so the water proved to be very refreshing.  Athletica has also joined the same hiking group that I belong to.  Here is a picture of the swimming hole:

The Rules Have Changed (Apparently)

Athletica was asked out on date recently by someone in our hiking group.  According to her it wasn’t a date, but being the great friend I am it didn’t stop me from razzing her about it.  I texted her to ask her how her ‘date’ was.  She responded with, “It’s not a date!”

“Okay,” I texted back.  “How was your ‘it’s-not-a-date’ date?”  No response (lol).  She told me later that it couldn’t possibly be a date because he had used a Groupon to pay for dinner.  So that’s how it is determined these days.  Guess the rules really have changed in the past decade.  Who knew?

Motorcycle Summer

 This summer has been one of the funnest ones on record.  Outside of the crazy heat I will be sad to see the seasons change.  I went with Matteo about a month ago to a biker bar to see a band play.  Let me tell you I saw some crazy stuff that night!  Very fun though.  I got in at 3:30am!

Its been interesting hanging with Matteo.  Back in Boston in the 1970s bikers there were either stared at in awe or were feared.  We had a biker bar down the street and I remember my father discouraging me from looking at them as we drove by.  I remember being on the freeway in the family station wagon and peering out the window in the most casual manner my 10 year old self could muster, at the couple on the Harley passing us.  A thin tan blonde woman sat on the back of the bike.  She wore leather pants with matching bikini top.  Her long hair was woven into two braids.  I don’t quite recall what the man looked like but most then had long hair and bushy beards.     Riding with Matteo has fished these memories to the surface.  Sometimes I’ll hear his bike pull up to the driveway and I’ll peek out the slats of the kitchen shutters at him, dressed in his bike garb.  I swear I lose my breath for a second.  Maybe it’s just my rebellious Catholic school girl nature.  I don’t know.  But where there is this tall, dark handsome man standing in my driveway next to a Harley, I can’t help myself.  (I can still hear my sister’s voice from that day on the freeway back in the 1970s: “Dad told you not to look”).  I started wearing a bandana around my face when we ride because Matteo has taken the windshield off the bike.  He reminded me that I should probably remove it before we entered a liquor store this past weekend.  I guess I would have made a few folks a little nervous.

Speaking of Matteo, he is off to New Mexico for the weekend for his highschool reunion.   He has become a great friend and sometimes when I’m with him I realize how many great experiences I’ve had since I let go of the past.  I’ve come to realize that letting go, as hard as it is or as scary as it may seem, often opens the doors for new things.   With that being said though, there are still things that need to be let go of.

Matteo’s bike:

   Florida/Race Bound

In a few weeks I will be flying to Florida for another fun trip with my best friend, Quasimomma .  We did this last year and had a blast.  I will fly into the gulf side and we will drive over to my aunt’s condo the next day.  The Smokester will be kenneled at her vet.  Not sure how I’ll handle Abby yet.

We are running in a 5k the first Saturday there.  We have always wanted to do a 5k together so I’m really ecstatic that our dream is coming into fruition.

Letting Go

Yesterday was not a good day.  I’ve been fighting with my ex for pretty much a week now.  While I haven’t mentioned it before, I will say that he has an addiction problem that he refuses to see.  It’s very frustrating.  We are still in contact although he is living really far away.  Sometimes I will call because I need an answer to something and I can hear in his voice that he is not sober.  I wish sometimes I could record his voice and play it back for him so he could hear how stupid he sounds.  When I ask him if he is drunk he will often lie and tell me he was asleep and that’s why his voice sounds that way.  It hit me the other night that I really do need to let go.  It’s not worth getting angry over anymore.  I’ve had a lot of anxiety over this the past couple of days and he is also scheduled to come back to Phoenix for a visit starting tonight.  We need to get together to talk about a few things.  It hit me today that we have been separated for almost a year.  He’s got until January 1st to get himself straight.  If not, then it’s time for me to move on for good.

I call this one Ruben:

So. . .I pretty much fought with him over text messaging on my way to work yesterday (I have the voice activated option so was not texting while driving).  I got into work to find the Internet down.  I looked up the number to our service provider from my phone.  I called and received that stupid recorded prompt which only told me to go their website for technical support.  Luckily I found another number and a man there was able to reset the modem from wherever he was.  I logged into email and found a scathing response from a client I had left a voice mail message for last week.  She had multiple changes to a project we are working on and each time she placed a change request she would promise it was the last one.  I simply asked her to sit with her documentation and outline all the changes in one fell swoop rather than piece mailing it.  I didn’t think I came off as angry or anything, but by her response I could tell she was ticked.  I did call her and straighten it out; however, it did get me thinking.
Was she angry because she felt that I was trying to rush her?  Or did I come off as threatening without even realizing it?  I’d have to say that my rapport with most clients is great.  Still though, I wonder at times if I come off a little abrasive.  I need to chat with my boss about this.

Last night I didn’t sleep well.  It was just one of those days.  Before work though I dedicate at least 30 minutes to prayer and meditation.  I say these out loud and as the words left my lips this morning I could feel such a release of tension.  Just a total letting go.  Letting go of the fight with the ex, letting go of the work stuff.  I felt lighter.

Camp Bound

Saturday morning I will pack up the SUV and head north to camp for another Labor Day weekend.  I won’t have the camper this year because the ex has the truck with him that I would usually use to pull it.  I did look into renting a U-Haul pick up truck but the connector for the brakes and lights isn’t correct.  Another place has the perfect truck that is affordable but the deposit is almost as much as my mortgage.  I just can’t risk that.  Looks like me, the pooch and the weasel are tenting it.  I’ve been so spoiled.  Hope we do okay.

And finally, more hiking. . .

  I’ve joined yet another hiking group and did a night hike Monday night.  It was really great fun and in addition to meeting some new people, one lady from Boston, too, we got to see some of the wild life that comes out at night in the desert.  Here is one of those said critters (yes, it’s a rattle snake): 

There’s another night hike tonight.  We’ll see what this trip yields. 

American Potato Salad Recipe

After spending years purchasing the store-bought stuff I finally decided to make my own potato salad.  The women in my family have always made marvelous potato salads from scratch.  My grandmother made the best.  Afterall, her family had been potato farmers.  I recall that she won a ribbon at a fair for her potatoes.  I don’t know why I have been reluctant to learn to make this.  Maybe it has just been too easy to purchase a plastic bucket at the grocery store because I had a coupon.  I found this recipe on Martha Stewart’s website.  It was quite enjoyable, not to mention easy to prepare.

 Potato salad combines wonderful textures and tastes if done right.  There’s something about the tang of vinegar and mayo, the crunch of the celery and onion, and then the star of the show, the potato itself!

 

 

 

 

Ingredients: 

-4 lbs russet potatoes (about 8)

-1 tblsp, plus 2 tsps of salt

-3 tblsps cider vinegar

-3 large eggs

-1/2 cup plus 2 tblsp of mayo

-1/2 tsp celery seed

-1 tsp dry mustard

-1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper

-3 stalks celery, cut into 1/4-inch dice (3/4 cup)

-1 red bell pepper, cut into 1/4 inch dice (1/2 cup)

-1 medium onion, finely diced (1/2 cup)

-10 cornichons, cut into 1/4 inch dice (1/4 cup) -(these are actually mini gherkin pickles –I had to look these up online because I had no idea what a cornichon was!  Leave it to Martha.    )

-3 scallions, thinly sliced (1/2 cup)

-2 tblsp freshly chopped flat-leaf parsley

-1 tsp paprika

1.)Place potatoes in a large pot with enough water to cover by several inches.  Bring to a boil over high heat, add 1 tbsp of salt, and lower to a gently boil.  Cook until potatoes are tender when pierced with a knife, about 25 minutes.  Drain into a colander.  Using paper towels or gloves to protect your hands, peel potatoes, and cut into 1-inch dice while still hot.  Drizzle with vinegar; set aside. (I let the potatoes cool a bit and then ran them under cold water before handling –we don’t wear gloves in Arizona)

2.)Place eggs in a small pan with enough water to cover by 1 inch, and place over medium-high heat.  When water comes to a boil, turn off heat, cover, and let stand for 13 minutes.  Drain, and place in a bowl with cold water to cover.  When cold, peel eggs.  Chop 2 into 1/4-inch dice.  Slice the third egg into 1/4-inch thick rounds, and set aside for garnish.

3.)Combine diced eggs, mayo, celery seed, mustard, 2 tsps sale, and black pepper in a large bowl, and whisk to combine.  Add reserved potatoes to mayo mixture.  Add celery, red pepper, onion, cornichons (gherkins), scallions, and chopped parsley.  Stir to combine.  Chill for 30 minutes before serving.  Garnish with paprika and reserved hard-boiled egg rounds.

 

Serves 10 to 12.

Just as a note, I omitted the celery seed and the scallions and it still came out just fine.  Enjoy!

 

Observation Mode

This, by far, has been the longest I’ve ever gone without posting a blog since my first Vox post in 2008.  Blogging is an activity I usually am chomping at the bit to get to but lately I’ve had a hard time making myself sit and do it.  I’ve figured out that I am in observation mode right now.  Here’s what’s been up:

Little Girl Grown Up

In early June I visited my sister and her family in Ohio for a long weekend.  My niece was graduating from high school.  Both my parents showed which was one of the first times they had actually been in the same room together and had a decent conversation.  The trip proved to be bittersweet.  While happy for my niece, it seem sad for the rest of us who had watched her grow up.  She is the first niece/granddaughter in our family and we definitely had a hard time letting go and accepting the fact that she is now a young woman.  So here is this young woman who I used to hold and comfort when she was hurt and now she is holding the hand of her boyfriend.  He seem to be a decent sort.  The first night there she had him painting her nails.  Wonder what his buddies would think of that scene?  The day my family was scheduled to leave and return to their parts of the country, niece’s boyfriend hugged us all.  “Be good to her,” I told him.

Or I will find you, is what I was thinking.

   That evening after dark, we all went out into the front yard.  My niece lit a lantern and we stood by and watched as it lifted into the night sky, where it competed with the light of the full moon.  My brother-in-law’s eyes filled with tears.  There was something so symbolic about watching this beautiful light slowly lift and gently move across the sky.  In all honesty I was a bit concerned about this thing landing on someone’s roof eventually and catching on fire, however, we had no indication that this happened, thank goodness.

 

 

 

 

 

The Abby Chronicles

Abby and I seem to be on better terms lately.  The changes that have come about the past couple of months have been hard on both of us.  I realized that most of my attention was being bestowed upon the weasel because that is how it had always been.  Abby belonged to the ex.  Smokey belongs to me.  The Cesar Milan magazine did arrive.  In fact I have received two issues so far and have only flipped through one.  It’s ok.  Lots of pics of celebrities with their dogs, etc…  a bit of advice but nothing so far that would be fitting to the situation.  I’d like to say Abby and I have called a truce and have become actual friends.  It seems the more I give her the more she gives back.  Her anxiety seems to have lessened and I am grateful.  She really is a good dog.

Observing Singles in Their Natural Habitat

Athletica and I have joined a hiking group that meets every so often.  We either brave the heat here in Phoenix or we head up to the mountains where it is a bit cooler (which is a relative term).  I’ve done so much watching of people lately and observing their actions.  Most in the hiking group are single and in their 40s or early 50s.  What I get from various conversations I’ve had with people is that they are pretty much all divorced.  No one is looking for anything but simplicity right now.  It’s been interesting.  Athletica received an email through the group’s website from one of the guys.  “I think he just wants to be friends,” she says.  “No,” I tell her. ”A man usually doesn’t reach out to a woman because he wants to be her friend.  Call me crazy but I don’t think it works that way.”  Its been a while for me though.  Maybe the rules have changed in the past decade?

After a hike in Sedona a few weeks back, a gentleman walking behind me proudly announced that he had taken a picture of my butt and would be posting it on the group website.  Not sure if he was kidding or not but it was one hell of a pick up line.  Needless to say I won’t be contacting him any time soon.  Lucky for him no such picture ended up on said website.  Interesting times.

Saying Goodbye to a Trainer and a Friend

 I joined this gym back in February.  In that timeframe I never sweated, hurt or pushed myself so hard as I ever did in my entire life than at this gym.  The alarm would be set for 3:45am so that I could make it there by 5am.  B. was one of those people who motivated others to push themselves just a bit harder each time.  There were days I would puke and there were days when the work outs were so tough I wanted to  literally cry out.  Friday, July 6th was the last time I worked out with B.  On the following Monday he went missing.  Tuesday night I received a text from Athletica that read, B. is dead.   While I won’t get into it here, I will say it was very tragic.  I watched his dream come to life at their grand opening back in October.  His goals were written on a white board in his office.  Many were checked off but there were so many more to be achieved.  There is a celebration of his life this weekend and then the gym doors will be closed forever.  Rest in peace, B!

Life In Motion

Athletica brought a friend along to a hike we did a few weeks ago who I had met several times before.  Matteo is someone who had been interested in her for a really long time but I’ve known that feeling hadn’t been reciprocated.  After the hike the three of us went out for coffee and chatted for a while.  I had invited the both of them to come a barbecue of a friend on the 4th of July.  Athletica had plans already but Matteo didn’t.  He brought his two grandchildren who I immediately adored.  He had children young and so did his son so he is a very young grandfather.  It was an enjoyable day but the kids were getting bored.  They left before the fireworks started.  Later in the evening I received a text from him thanking me for a nice time and wanting to know if I’d be up for a motorcycle ride over the weekend.  Matteo rides a Harley.  So how do I describe how this felt?  Let’s see: scared, adventurous, wtf?, thrilled, and ‘what the hell am I doing???’.  I wasn’t sure.  First we were supposed to go Friday and I canceled.  (What a chicken, right?)  So Saturday I gave in.  Afterall, I’m usually the first in line for every puke-inducing thrill ride at an amusement part.  How hard could it be to ride on the bike of a motorcycle.  And a Harley no less!

So Saturday evening he arrived at my house.  I could hear that bike coming from two miles away.  Dang, those things are loud!  I had been instructed to wear jeans and boots (yes, perfect for 100+ degree weather).  I threw my hair up in a pony tail and listened to instructions on how to ride on this thing without tipping it over (or falling off), and then we were off.  We drove up Central Ave., which is a street I’ve traveled on millions of times, and everything looked so different from this view.  The buildings seem pasted to the skyline.  Everything seem to sparkle.  We went to a blues club and I laughed so hard at just various things.  It felt like hearing your favorite song from your teenage years or something.  I felt that happy.  Later we took a ride through the desert which was so much cooler than driving through the concrete behemoths of Phoenix.  We drove by Camelback Mountain, which was beautiful at night.  I took a million snapshots in my mind and have relived them during the week while I’m working.

 

Well, the observation of this strange and new life of mine continues. . .

 

The Dog Days of Whatever

In ancient Greece the constellation, Sirius, represented the dog. It was believed that when this dog constellation was closest to the earth (July and August) that milk would spoil, men would be become weak, plants would wilt and women would become aroused. I’d seriously have to question that last one. Incidentally, this is what we refer to as the “dog days of summer”.

While we are still a few months away from the “dog days of summer”, I couldn’t help but wonder over this past weekend if this dog constellation, Sirius, had some strange cosmic effect over a certain canine in my household, not unlike how those that believe in horoscopes are affected by the stars and the alignment of planets.

Friday after work I decided to take my bike out for an evening spin before hitting the hay. I changed into the usual garb; t-shirt, shorts, sneakers. Abby decided that she had to come with me. This was just not going to happen. I am lucky I can chew gum at the same time as walking, let alone ride a bike while holding onto a leash. Uh-uh. Nothing doing.

My usually pleasant pooch was not having any part of this. I was trying to get the bike out of the house where it had been parked in the living room (one of the joys of living alone –you can park your bike wherever you please) and she was bolting for the door like the place was on fire. I caught her with my leg and pinned her against the wall where she struggled to get away from me and into the freedom of the front yard.

Somehow I got the kickstand on the bike down without her sneaking by me. To enhance the mental image of this evening, I have sketched the following cartoon:

After literally wrestling with her, I somehow made it out of the house. I could hear her now in the backyard where she ran out her doggie door and was howling her disapproval. The neighborhood dogs all seem to howl back in agreement which made for the ultimate guilt trip. I made my way down to the canals quite frazzled after that display. Not sure what got into her but she was hell-bent on getting out that front door. After one glorious hour pedaling away in peace, I returned home. The neighbors were in for the night and all was quiet. What the heck, I thought. I’ll let Abby out for a few minutes of freedom. I opened the door and before I could get a word out, she flew by me, all 4 paws disappearing into a blur. I may have seen a few sparks fly out from behind her as well. She bolted down to the greenway. Meanwhile, I parked my bike back in the living room and went out to wait for Abby’s return. She usually runs down to the greenway and returns after a few minutes, having gotten the run out of her system.

Up until her return I had been standing in the walkway in front of the house. I was happily updating my Facebook status via phone when I heard the unmistakable sounds of dog nails on asphalt. Abby spotted something and was in a dead run towards it. Turns out my neighbors thought this would be the opportune time to also let their dogs out for a leashless run. Unbeknownst to me at the time, the other dog, a good thirty pounds heavier than Abby, is her all time nemesis. Suddenly my sweet little puppy with the seal pup eyes had turned into this snarling, vicious, hound of hell. I dropped my phone (suddenly posting about what a great bike ride I had had seemed severely irrelevant) and headed towards the commotion. My usually mild-mannered neighbor was screaming over the snarling already in progress.

Both dogs had each other down on the ground. I reached for Abby who slipped out of my grasp like a greased pig. all the while my neighbor is yelling, “Get your f’ing dog! Get her!!!” No, not yelling. She was screeching. It was complete pandemonium. Neither dog was backing down. Said neighbor’s husband is now using his foot to try to separate the dogs. Nothing doing. Neighbor and I are encircling the dogs like referees at a boxing match. Finally, neighbor’s dog runs into the house. This is the end of it, I’m thinking. No! Abby follows the dog into the neighbor’s house. Neighbor is now screeching again like a banshee. “Get her out of my house! Get that f*ing dog out!” Finally Abby cowers on the floor. She must’ve come to her senses and realized that hey, this isn’t my house. What am I doing here??? Now her ears were pinned back and she looked truly defeated. I scooped her up and headed out towards home, but not before mumbling an apology to neighbor and her husband. Nothing was said in return. The only sound is that of their door slamming.

As soon as I set Abby down inside the house, she ran towards her bed. I glared at her which resulted in more pitiful looks and the pinning back of one’s ears. Then she grabbed what was left of an old rawhide bone and headed out to the safety of the backyard through the doggie door.

I took a deep breath, still shaking after that incident, and headed back over to neighbor’s house. I rang the doorbell with my heart beating in my throat. Neighbor came out and I asked if her dog was okay. Luckily the dog was. This is how I found out Abby and her dog were arch-rivals. Something the ex never let me in on. She apologized to me for how she acted and then hugged me. It was a relief.

Before heading off to a well-deserved rest that night I texted the ex that he may have a new visitor in that frozen waste-land he now calls home. Either that or she would be shipped off to a country where dog meat is still seen as a delicacy.

On Saturday afternoon, while out and about, the ex texted me that he has something for me (paperwork for a quickie Mexican divorce perhaps? -No, one couldn’t be so fortunate). After reviewing my texts of woe, he had decided to sign me up for a subscription to Cesar Millan, The Dog Whisperer’s magazine, Cesar’s Way. At first I thought he was joking. No, this was no joke. I got the email to prove it the next day. Why not something I would actually read like, Women’s Running or Real Simple, or Is Your Ex Really That Clueless?

Oh, I am just waiting with bated breath for my first issue! Believe you me!

Abby seem to know she had done wrong. She sulked about the house for the rest of the weekend and didn’t give me a hard time again when leaving. I suppose dogs, like people, have their days. About 1am today I woke to the sounds of her nails on the tile as she entered the bedroom. Usually she doesn’t stray too far from her dog bed at night but last night was different. It actually sounded like she was tiptoeing in as not to wake me or the weasel. She leapt up on the bed, licked my shoulder and nestled down next to me in the crook of my knees.   A rare event in the Monsoon household.

Perhaps even Orion suffered through a few dog days with Sirius.

“Sirius rises late in the dark, liquid sky

On summer nights, star of stars,

Orion’s Dog they call it, brightest

Of all, but an evil portent, bringing heat

And fevers to suffering humanity.”

-Homer in The Illiad

Cruising the Past, Propelling Into the Future

Two posts in two days?  Hey, I am on a roll!  I so miss this!

In yesterday’s post I briefly mentioned my new bike which I picked up on my birthday after months of lay away.

 It had been at least 20 years since I had ridden a bike.  I was a bit frightened at the thought of trying to ride again after all these years.  Would I forget?  Heck, would I need training wheels?  On that first hot Saturday in April I took a deep breath, clamored onto this pink metal contraption complete with bell and basket and pushed myself into the street away from the safe harbor of the driveway.  I pedaled about and practiced going in circles in the cul-de-sac until the neighbors thought I had gone mad.

I was doing it!  After all these years I was doing it!  In an instant I went from 44 to about 7.  Suddenly all these memories of riding a bike as a child came back to me in a solid rush.  My first bike was a Huffy.  I believe it was purple with a flowered banana seat.  I had a bell and basket then, too.  Some things you never outgrow, nor should you.  I remembered my Dad removing the training wheels one summer night.  “Pedal, pedal,” he shouted to me.   Okay, I did end up losing control and crashing into a wagon full of youngster being pulled by their parents.  I sometimes wonder if those former children in my Boston neighborhood remember that incident (or have spent years in counseling).

Having a bike meant freedom.  Sweet freedom.  I raced around the neighborhood with my best friend (she is still my best friend after all these years) and we searched for the ice cream man.  We didn’t wear helmets.  That was unheard of in that time.  Somehow we survived into adulthood.

Back to that hot birthday night. . .

I road down to the canals and went up and down until the sun was only a faint memory in the sky.  As it got darker I headed back to my neighborhood and road near the local park.  A group played volleyball in the greenway and there was just this certain sense of peace over the whole neighborhood, over the whole evening.  A slight breeze blew my hair back and rinsed over my skin.  My gosh, I had forgotten how that felt!  Who would have thought something so simple as a bike ride would conjure up memories and thoughts.  Even the sound of the chain churning as I pedaled drew out a certain deja vu from the depths of my memory.

Earlier in the week my boss, who is about my age, asked me if life in my 40s is what I thought about in my 20s.  This was a very interesting question. During that bike ride that birthday evening I started compiling a list in my mind of the things I’ve done in my 40s.  I never thought that far ahead in my 20s, truth be told.  Here’s what I came up with.

I never thought I would:

• live in Arizona
• ride a bike
• run races
• be a blonde!
• speak Spanish (not as well as I used to  –I’ll never be fluent)
• lift weights
• have the same amazing people in my life as I did back in my 20s
• have a job I absolutely adore
• do 50 guy push-ups (let alone 1 push up!)
• own a cute little stucco house with a Spanish tiled roof
• wear a bikini
• blog (4 years now)
• be this happy on my own

So that’s it.  If I sat here long enough I could probably think of more things.  What about you?  What are some of the things in your life that you are doing/have done that you would have never thought you’d do in your younger years?  Do tell!

Respecting Fire by Air

This post has been brewing in my mind for a while now.  The hardest part is finding time these days to actually blog.  I no longer take breaks during the day which has placed a damper on my blog efforts as of late.

The ex left about a month ago to work in a northern mid-western town.  I took the morning off to have a final breakfast with him.   It’s funny how you don’t know how you are going to feel until certain events unfold.  I didn’t cry or get emotional.  My whole body breathed a sigh of relief that he was gone.  Not just down the street, but thousands of miles away in a town with a population of 97 people.

There are days when I am so angry I could punch holes in the wall.  Then there are days when the silence and peace in the house and just in my normal life is so prevalent that I could cry from the sheer joy, however, crying would mess with the peace that now sustains me, so I refrain.

In April, on my birthday, I made the final payment on my beach cruiser bicycle.  I’ve spent countless evenings riding along the canals which has turned into the ultimate secret to an amazing night’s sleep.  During the rides I think so much of the past insanity and again breathe a double sigh of relief that that particular door is closed.  I think a lot about marriage and what my thoughts growing up on marriage were.  I try not to be bitter by my past experiences.  Marriage has always been something I have held in high regard.  Back in my dating years I would never date a married man, although I have girlfriends that did.  I have a girlfriend now that insists that all married men will cheat.  Well, hell, if that is your attitude then what do you think is going to be attracted into your life?

While my own marriage hasn’t worked out it has not changed my view on marriage.  It is something precious.  When you are partnered with another person you are entrusting that person with a piece of yourself.  A big piece of yourself.   And vice versa.  It’s so important to choose wisely.  In my own marriage I would have been far better off trusting my dog, Abby, to guard my steak.  But I digress.   I still see it as holy.

More than a decade ago I dated a Parsi man of the Zoroastrian faith.  He told me about the fire temples in India and how they housed the holy fires that were started many years ago by a single lightning strike.  One such temple existed in Yemen.  I had to look this up online today because I couldn’t remember the whole details of what he told me.  According to the website, Yemen became a communist country.  It was decided that the holy fire needed to be brought to India as there was too much pressure to close the temple.  To make a long story short, many arrangements were needed to transport this fire.  Despite the dangerous risks, Air India flew the fire from Yemen to India after many negotiations between the two countries, mainly by Mrs. Indira Gandhi herself.  When the holy fire arrived in India, many Parsi families greeted the jet at the airport.  Only those of this faith are allowed to gaze upon the fire.

I only bring this up because when I think of the faith the Parsi’s have, it is in much the same way I view marriage; sacred, serious, holy.  I doubt I’ll ever marry again, however, my respect for the union remains.

Life has changed so much just within the past month.  I joined a group that gets together and plays board games every so often.  I have made a few friends as well.  It’s now been three months since I joined the boot camp gym and I see myself changing.  I feel so strong!

Races are done now until the Fall.  The last one was in Sabino Canyon in Tucson which was 7.4 miles.  By the last mile I could feel the curve of the street through my feet.  We returned to the canyon the next day to do some sightseeing.  Although this was my third year attending the race, it’s amazing how much you miss when you are running.  It’s such a beautiful place.  All the cactus were in bloom, too.

I’m trying to plan a trip to Florida this Fall with some Boston girlfriends.  There is a 10k going on right near my aunt’s beach house.  I sent a note out to the girlfriends in question and so far haven’t heard back yet.  Hopefully it will be something they will all want to do as we have talked about meeting somewhere to do a race for a while now.

 

So much going on and so little time to write!

March, In A Nutshell

 

  Okay, I admit it.  I’ve been a blogging lame-o, but here is a run down of some things that have been going on.  The first two weeks of March I participated in two 5ks; the first one I did my second worst on.  For some reason when I crossed the start line my body was telling me it just did not want to run.  Plus the cute little running skort I purchased only a week before chafed my thighs until they were raw.  Note to self: do a test run after purchasing any new work-out gear.  The second race was the following weekend and I did a bit better.  My timing was 30 seconds quicker than the weekend before and this run included a few hills. 

After that last run I drove down to meet our blogging buddy Maureen in Tucson.  We did a photo shoot which was so much fun.  As you might know, Maureen is a wonderful photographer and I got to meet a few of her favorite subjects; the horses.  Maureen’s home is a desert dream with a spectacular view of the nearby mountains.  There is a southwest print in my kitchen by the artist Downe Burns.  Everytime I look at it I think of Maureen’s home in the desert. 

Ana came out for two weeks.  We had a wonderful time which included many dinners out and some great chats over a glass of wine sipped in the evening on the back patio.  We hiked in Sedona and also here in Phoenix.  It was a pretty full two weeks.  Ana must have really enjoyed herself because she came back with her son this past Monday night.  What can I say?  She is the ultimate house guest.  I’d arrive home after work and the dishes would be done, along with a bouquet of fresh flowers on the kitchen counter. 

Athletica and I went to Carlsbad, CA for the race at the very end of March.  Carlsbad is this small seaside town that was a really fun place to visit.  We flew into San Diego, rented a car, and then drove up to Ocean Beach.  We walked the boardwalk on a very chilly day.  There were surfing lessons going on and people out getting some exercise.  At one point a tough looking bunch of guys road by on low-rider bikes that looked custom.  They wore shades despite the cloudy weather, however the tough guy image was soon diminished as soon as one of them rang their bell to get our attention.  Only in California.  We had breakfast overlooking the ocean and then headed up to the hotel in Carlsbad.

The race was pretty good and the course stretched along Pacific Coast Highway.  There were five 5ks altogether and they started us ‘old folks’ (40 and over) first.  The men went and then the ladies.  That is the first race I’ve done where they’ve arranged things that way.  There were lots of hills so there was a bit of challenge there.  What I really liked about this race was that at each mile marker they had the time listed.  I did 11 minute miles for the first two miles and then by the third my legs felt like they were locking up.  I was having pain in my left knee and hip.  I walked a good portion of it but decided towards the end that I would run despite the pain.  I passed a woman walking who said to no one in particular, “I don’t know why I do this.  I sign up and I get to it, and then I hate it.”  While I don’t hate running by any stretch, my sentiments at the very moment were quite the same.  However, I laughed and kept going.  I arrived only a few seconds later than my last race so I wasn’t too disappointed with my time, especially given the size of the inclines on this course. 

I limped over the finish line, met Athletica, and then headed back to the hotel to shower and change.  We hit up the beer garden afterwards and chatted with some of the other racers.  After two beers we were really feeling it.  I admit I probably should have stopped at one but hey, too late to take that back now.  As Ana says, you don’t buy beer, you rent it.  That being the case we needed to find a bathroom and the only thing available were the typical race port-o-potties.  Unfortunately there were no hand sanitizers available.  We headed over to the expo which was still in full swing.  We happened across an unmanned booth that contained a table with some a container with a pump on the top which I naturally assumed was hand sanitizer.  I was just about to squirt some of the liquid into my hand when a 30-something woman came over and said she’d be happy to help me, miss.  I’ll admit I gave her brownie points for calling me miss and not ma’am.  She then went on to explain that her product was not hand sanitizer at all.  It was the equivalent of what marathon runners refer to as ‘Gu’.  It comes in a small packet and contains sugar and caffeine to help stimulate energy.  Runners will take this when they need a boost (and not when they need their hands sanitized).  I felt so dumb, but as Jamie Foxx sings, “blame it on the al-al-al-al-al-al-cohol.”

Later in the day we could hear drumming.  We followed the sound to a drumming circle where a very pregnant lady with dreadlocks and a peasant skirt invited us in to dance.  The group had gathered on a small patch of grass above the beach.  She took our hands and lead us in where one couldn’t help but move to the beat.  It was one of the neatest and most randomest things I’ve ever stumbled upon. 

We stayed one more night and then visited an old mission that was built in the late 1700s called San Luis Rey de Francia.  I love places like that.  We drove down to San Diego and had lunch on the water before visiting the USS Midway which was decommissioned some time ago. 

Like I mentioned earlier, Ana is back.  She, her son, Athletica and I will be heading to Tucson this weekend.  Myself and Athletica have a race and then we will meet up with Ana later to hang out by the hotel pool. 

So, that’s really been whats going on here.  Work has been completely crazy.  My breaks have been at a minimum as of late so I haven’t been able to get on here to post or read other posts.  I’m hoping to soon though!

The Tenacity of Life

While coming out from work one evening I spotted this little plant growing in a moving stream.  I stopped and observed this from several different angles. 

  Water is moving quickly over it yet somehow it grew up through the rock it is rooted to and managed to sprout despite the water moving turbulently around it.  Now I’m no scientist when it comes to aquatic plant species but this little plant continues to baffle me every time I walk by.  Despite the seeming odds, it continues to grow and does not waver considering all that is going on around it.

Surely, I thought, the landscapers will catch sight of this little plant and pluck it out of the stream.  Afterall, it is a man-made stream and is maintained frequently.  Yet, every day I spot this little plant and sure enough, it is still there.

It sort of reminds me of life.  No matter how harsh the conditions or what comes our way, with the right amount of tenacity we can stand up straight.  We can grow. 

I actually took this picture last week.  I wanted to include this in a blog post but wanted it to make sense and not come off as too sappy.  Sometimes in nature there are signs of perseverance.  For me, when I see this little plant growing with all that rushing water around it, I breathe a sigh of relief. 

 

It gives me hope.

 

More Thoughts on Thursday

On my way to the gym this morning I thought of just driving past and heading up to Sedona to catch the sunrise.  I’d call in sick for work, have breakfast somewhere, take in a hike and then be home in the afternoon, just in time to take a nap.  I abandoned that thought quickly and exited at the proper location. 

Its been quite impressive to see how many folks are now going to the 5am class.  It makes it more fun, too.  One of the exercise we did this morning was using the TRX Bands.  You basically stick your feet in these loops and hold yourself in plank position.  It was really hard at first but by the end I was able to at least stay up on my forearms.  This has been an off week for exercise.  Actually, its been an off week all around.

Here is the picture of what that particular exercise looks like:

 

 

 

 

 

Here’s what it feels like:

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes I feel like I’ve reverted back to that 4th grade girl in Miss Jean’s School of Dance when I’m being shown how to do something correctly.  I am not the most coordinated of people.  While that middle-aged red-haired witch from childhood was very much into berating one for their shortcomings, Brian, my trainer, never berates.  He is very encouraging.  I’m not sure why I keep thinking of Miss Jean or her sharp British accent while at the gym.  It’s interesting how certain things will trigger memories, and not always good ones. 

Brian pretty much had the whole gym sign up for a 5K this weekend.  In addition to being a great trainer, he is really great at getting people motivated.  There are a few people in some of the classes that have never done one. Even though they said they would probably just walk, the cool thing is that they are willing to go out there and do it.  I like the feeling of being part of that kind of a team.

Here is Smokes with her new ferret stairs.  I’ve very often gotten tired of being the human escalator at 3am so decided to get her this little fake wool lined set of steps so she can easily get up onto the bed.  She has mastered getting up but so far has had some issues in figuring out how to get back down.  Nothing like waking in the middle of the night with a ferret standing on your head.    The stairs will be short-lived though.  I was just about to climb into bed last night when I noticed she had left a present on my pillow.  Thank goodness I noticed before climbing into bed and resting my head on said pillow.  Ugh!

Abby seems to be a bit like her old self.  I haven’t noticed too much evidence as of late that she has been sleeping on the couch rather than her own bed.  One Saturday morning not too long ago, as I lay in bed sipping my coffee, Abby appeared in the doorway wagging her tail warily, as if to say, may I come in?  I glanced at her with her seal pup eyes and her pinned back ears, and then patted the bed next to me.  In two strides and a jump she had settled in next to me with her head on my tummy.  I told her I was sorry for being mad at her.  She peered up at me with those soft brown eyes as if to say, it’s okay Mom, I understand.  Indeed, she did.

Ana is coming up for two weeks this month.  I’m not sure of the dates yet but I will be happy to have the company.  The ex was over cleaning out some of his things from the guest bedroom last week.  My dirty laundry is also kept in a hamper in that room.  He yelled out that I really needed to wash my gym clothes.  I yelled back that what he was smelling was the sweet smell of determination.  The hamper will also be relocated to the laundry  room before Ana arrives.  Something tells me she won’t exactly be in agreement with that statement. 

Last Saturday was the supposed day of beauty.  I didn’t feel quite as satisfied as I usually do when leaving the salon.  While I know this is silly, my hair had been waist length.  It is still long (half way down my back) but having that much cut off (although it needed it) left me feeling naked or something.  I don’t know.  There’s been enough changes as of late and I just wasn’t ready to part with that much hair as strange as it may sound. 

I had dinner with a girlfriend last night.  I almost canceled because I was not in a good mood.  Lately I’ve made a lot of mistakes at work and although I tried to think of everything that has gone right, I still beat myself up over it.  My friend asked me how I was doing with everything going on and I lost it.  She, in turn, started to cry, too.   And I think, damn, I just want to be happy!  I’m so tired of feeling this way.  I want to be laughing with my friends –not crying.  She suggested I go to counseling but the gym has really been my counselor.  I can take out all my anger and frustrations there.  We hit a punching bag this morning and when I took my gloves off my hands were bleeding.  I managed to split the skin on both hands between my pinkies, ring fingers and middle fingers.  Surprisingly enough they don’t hurt right now.  They’re just a bit red.  What a way to take out frustrations. 

Anyway, the week is just about over.  I’m always grateful for that.  Its like reaching Friday is another accomplishment.  One more work week down.

One More Race On Tap & Cheers to the Weekend!

 Today I decided to officially sign up for the Carlsbad race.  At first I was going to be a spectator but after being caught up in the energy of the whole experience in Sedona between hanging out with other runners, to the award’s ceremony, I knew that it would be so much more fun to participate.  They do get expensive after a while so I’ve had to pace myself (no pun intended) on registrations.  My closet is also getting filled up with t-shirts!

Athletica has also filled me in on the best places to grab a post-race beer.  As a desert dweller I also get the added bonus of seeing the ocean.  Can’t wait for that!

Thank goodness it’s Friday!  Between some late nights this week with a meeting with my women’s group, to church stuff because of Ash Wednesday, and then attempting to get my taxes done again last night (the first time they ran out of time and last night the Internet was down) I am ready for bed!  Then of course the workouts at 5am and getting used to a new eating plan are somewhat wearing me out.  Next week should be a calmer week and I look forward to hitting the hay at a decent hour.

Do I look 68 to you?

For Lent I decided to give up Facebook.  This has already proven to be hard because I’m somewhat of a social creature by nature.  My best friend texted me yesterday that she caught me on it already.  I actually hadn’t been on it but I guess it showed me as on.  Not sure what was up with that.  It’s going to be a long 40 days!  Regardless, maybe this will actually be encouragement to pick up the phone and call someone instead of Facebook. 

My cousin, who I thought had long left for Afghanistan, saw my post and texted me asking why I was giving this up.  It turns out he is still in the states for a few more weeks.  He will be shipping out shortly though.  I said that hopefully the time will go by quick and he’ll be back before he knows it.  His response: ”Hopefully. . .lol. But we never count on hopefullies.”  I found it a bit chilling but real.  I don’t have the best feeling about his being away.  Its something I can’t place my finger on but I really hope this just stems from my own worry and nothing substantial.

Tomorrow I will begin the day with another work out.  This time I can sleep in a bit as it doesn’t start until 8am.  My endurance must be improving because I no longer feel like I’m going to hurl at the end.  After this I scheduled a day of beauty and will get my hair cut and colored.  My eyebrows also need to be waxed.  I’m looking forward to this. 

Well, here’s to a great weekend!