Swinging clubs since he was two, Will’s choice activity for his Forever Family Day was a family golf outing. What you get when you combine four bags of clubs, many balls, two carts, water holes, geese, and bees:
Two boys who generally hit straight, short balls down the fairway. One grown man who hits the ball with a great deal of strength – and a 50/50 chance of it veering off to another fairway.
And me. Generally, I play with three clubs, plus my putter. However, many worms lived through the day since Liam wanted to play every hole. I dedicated my course time to caddying and chauffeuring for Liam. (Pretty much like most other days now that I think about it…)
“I’m really liking this, Mom.” Liam declared as we zoomed down the fairway.
“I hit a goose!” Will, on the 3rd hole.
“When it’s my Forever Family Day, I’m making all of you play Wii. You too, Mom,” declared Liam. Then, “Ohhhh, I stepped in dog poop!” Goose poop.
On the 18th hole, teeing off over a pond. Will’s 1st ball: Plop. 2nd ball: Plop. “Just one more ball, Dad.” That “one more” sailed over the pond and onto the fairway. Loved the fist pumping and grinning on that shot.
Liam walking up to me with a golf ball: “I hit my ball into the trees, and I found it, but I saw a bee and then I dropped my club.” Searching for the club in thick pine needles, I asked, “Do you know about where you dropped your club?”
“Next to the bee.”
Happy Hump Day…
The Avon Walk - Update
I’m very excited that I have nearly reached my goal of $1,800 for the Avon Walk Boston! I am hoping that a few more donations will put me over my goal by the end of the weekend. If I make my goal by midnight Monday, I can participate in “Early Check-in” on-line – rather than going into Boston the Friday night before the walk. The pink wig, below and to the right, is still ready and able! Clicking on it will take you to my donations page on the Avon Walk site. My 8-mile walk last Friday was probably closer to 9 miles! Lake Q is a half-mile longer around than I had thought. From that long afternoon walk, I know what one of my biggest challenges will be: the heat. Hopefully, the 19th & 20th will be cool walking mornings. This morning I did 3.3 miles, picking up the pace a little bit, I finished it in 52 minutes rather than 60 minutes.
My feet are sore for the first mile or so when I walk. I have a little “flashback” neuropathy going on, plus a little arthritic-like pain that is a side effect of the test drug that I’m taking. However, with Advil and perseverance through that initial mile, it’s very manageable. We went to Wingaersheek beach on Tuesday. It was high tide when we arrived, and as the tide went out the sand bar appeared. The water was only calf-deep so we trudged across 50 years (LOL… typo too funny to take out! It was only 50 yards…) or so to make it to the sandbar. The water was frigid. First our legs were cold; then they hurt; then they were numb – and felt pretty good! That pattern made me think of my walking feet, particularly when they’ve stretched out after that first mile.
I’m happy and shocked that I have made a 9-mile walk – and know that I need to kick it up a bit over the next four weeks: More walks during the week, including back to back long walks in about three weeks.
Weathercasters & Builders
Both have that peculiar gleam in their eyes when something big is approaching. Can you imagine how difficult a forecaster’s job must be with a winter like we had in Boston last year? Showing concern and empathy for their viewers when they have to say something like, “We will probably see another 21 inches of snow in the next 24 hours.” Their eyes are screaming, “We live for this! So cool! This is why I went into meteorology! Epic weather!”
This week was epic for our builders. The wood for framing was delivered last Saturday. The foreman was here to make sure it was placed close enough to the work spot so they didn’t spend the next several days carrying lumber rather than fabricating it. “Framing starts Monday! It’s supposed to be 85 degrees!” He was ecstatic. “Nothing I like better than building in the heat!” I wanted to crank up the air conditioner just thinking about that.
With bright sun, four or five framers daily, and a bunch of lumber, amazing things can happen in five days: from foundation up to the the floor of the master bedroom. I imagine the walls will be completely framed by the middle of next week.
Below are some of the week’s highlights, beginning with the view of the new family room (where the kitchen door used to be).
After two days of framing… double-hung windows will flank the TV and a row of narrow stationary windows will allow more light into the room above the TV. May need strong shades for morning TV watching.
After two days of framing. Our current – and still functioning – kitchen is behind the insulated walls. Fly-away beam still supporting the house.
The truck below was delivering stone for the patio wall. Yes, I asked to drive the 3-wheeled forklift. No, I didn’t. “Liability.”
Cool contraption! The forklift tines load right into the slot at the back of the truck. And hydraulics pick the machine up, raising the wheels off the road.
After three days of framing. The bay windows are framed in AND the fly-away beam is gone! Permanent corner supports and cross beams replace that temporary support.
Picture on Day 3 of framing: Where the patio will be from the walk-out basement. We are recycling the old steel spiral staircase from the original deck; that will provide access from the drive to the patio. Wall blocks waiting on a pallet.
After four days of framing, 1st floor is framed, including the walls.
After five days of framing, bay window framed, new entry door framed. Under blue tarp is new framing for kitchen window. (We may get a lot of rain this weekend – tarp is protecting exposed insulation.)
Picture on Day 5 of framing: First row of patio wall blocks, each one 8”x 12” x 18,” made the patio feel too small. There would only be three feet between the door and the spiral staircase. Back to the drawing board. We need to widen the patio to make more room for the staircase. A mini-excavator will come in next week. If it’s the same driver as the big CAT, I won’t ask to drive it. I know the answer. :)
The Beginning of Forever
While my short term memory bumbles along, thankfully, some moments in our lives are so strong and edible that they are branded into my mental memory album forever. Eight years ago tomorrow, April 21st, Bill and I awoke early, packed our bags, and went downstairs. The beginning of a new forever was minutes away.
The air was cool. The bouquet of flowers was enormous. Another couple we had met earlier in the week had suggested we give flowers to Mrs. Lee, Will’s foster mother, so she would leave the agency with something beautiful. The previous afternoon, we watched the florist as she built a spectacular hand bouquet.
The other couple was from Maryland, and their beginning was the next day. They joined us on our morning and chatted after we signed a few papers and collected a sealed envelope to handover to immigration officials when we landed at O'Hare. We anxiously watched the door. Soon, six-month-old Will arrived, riding on Mrs. Lee’s back. We were greeted by the same dimpled little smile we first saw a week earlier. Mrs. Lee unbundled Will and he sat on her lap.
Young Dr. Kim, the head of Eastern Social Welfare Society in Seoul, gave us encouraging, thankful words. Then, with his hand on Will, he said a prayer in Korean. We stood up. Awkwardly, bowed and shook hands, not knowing which was appropriate. Mrs. Lee and I looked at each other. I thanked her and then hugged her. We spoke different languages. A hug was the best way I could convey all that I felt for this woman who was Will’s “omma” from when he was just days old.
We all walked to the van waiting outside. I passed the flower bouquet to the woman accompanying Mrs. Lee. Bill and I got into the van, wondering if this was really happening. So gently. So quickly.
Mrs. Lee held Will until we settled. Then…
Bill and I looked at each other as the van pulled away from the agency, out of Seoul, and toward Inch eon airport.
No tears. No music. No fanfare. No car seats. No seat belts. No instruction manual. No English-speaking driver.
Will sat quietly, calmly in Bill’s long arms.
I looked at them both, a smile replacing the shock. “This is it? …This is it!”
The beginning of forever.
The CAT
On Friday, I nearly got to drive a CAT digger. After dropping the boys off at school, I came home, parked on the street, then watched as the digger maneuvered with amazing precision excavating our basement. The driver saw me, idled down the machine, and said, “Do you wanna come in?” with a hand motion toward him.
“YEAH!” I nodded wide-eyed as I dropped my purse and keys on the ground and headed toward the cab. How cool would it be to drive an International 1486 tractor and a CAT digger all in one week?
Then, I got the look. Like I was a crazy woman. “I meant do you want to get your car in...” The gleam in my eye was quickly extinguished with those words. No, I want to drive the digger. Then, the word “liability” was tossed around.
Later that day, after he had pushed and pulled the two gi-normous boulders to where I wanted them, I waved him down. “You know, I think those boulders would look better at the back of the lot. I don’t really like them here.”
“Awwww… are ya kiddin’ me?” There was anything but excitement in his eyes, and I got the crazy-woman look again.
"Yeah, I just don't think they look as good as I thought they would here."
"I don't know if I can get those over there..."
"I'm kidding.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
I think he's ready for the next big dig gig.
Happy Hump Day…
One's Creation... or a Chocolate Truffle Torte
During a guilty pleasure cookbook reading session, I found this quote from the Introduction of Terese Allen’s amazing (The) Ovens of Brittany Cookbook. “Cooking, like writing, is not wholly satisfying until one’s creation is shared, and hopefully, appreciated.”
Thank goodness she found those words, organized them just right, and put them on paper. I have been looking for that sentence for years!
Terese's recipes are journeys: tons of delicious prep time and many layers of decadence. I read Ovens more than I cook from it. And if I do make the Irish Potato Chowder, Chicken Pot Pie, or the decadent Chocolate Truffle Torte, it's for special occasions. As Terese describes it, "...Chocolate Truffle Torte takes some effort, so make it when there's something extra-special to celebrate. Or make it for someone who really deserves it. Like yourself."
But then... why wait for a milestone to "do it"? Whatever your creation, do it and share it. Make the torte, fry the big fish, go whole hog. The sooner the better.
Visit People to Know & Places to Go (under the big pink Avon Lady box to the right) for a sampling of some creative spirits I appreciate. They are doing it and they are sharing it.
Need a bigger kick, perhaps from an existential perspective? Try this: You are only here once.
So, what's your creation? Or rather, do you have a fantastic torte recipe that would make the dessert world a better place?
The Fireplace Addition: Demo Done, Excavating Completed, Foundation Set & Framing Begins Today
Before the details, we picked the right builder: Black Hawk Builders. A crew has been here five days a week since the demo started. The same foreman has been here every single day. Work is progressing faster than we could have every anticipated. The site is clean at the end of every day. They are a great group of guys to work with: They are responsive and courteous. Plus, they all have a great sense of humor. You need that around here. These are just a few of my observations about this process so far.
Builders are not late. They arrive at 7 a.m. and work until 3:30 p.m. If they are really excited about a job – say excavating or framing – they arrive well before 7 a.m. and pace a little bit before they can start making noise at the stroke of seven.
Given this, I have learned to get dressed rather than write in my unmatched pj’s early in the morning. I believe I had stripes and flowers going this particular morning as the beginning of our deck demo happened outside my living room window. Fortunately, I am experienced in crouch-running away from windows.
Below, a before and an after shot of the deck demo. On the after shot, I had put a note on the door “Please use front door.” Laughable. Within 24 hours of posting it, there was no choice BUT to use the front door.
This will be the third addition to our house over the course of its life since 1880. One addition converted a small porch into more kitchen space. Not concerned with a level floor, those builders left a kitchen floor that was four inches higher on the right compared to the left. The right-hand side of the kitchen was a crawl space. That had to come out for excavation to start. Below, is a shot of the house with excavation in-process. The fly away beam to the right is supporting the house. The crawl space is gone.
Our coffee brewer is on the side where the kitchen is hanging in mid-air. Brutal surprise on 32-degree mornings walking barefoot from an insulated 68-degree tile floor to a 32-degree tile floor for a cup of coffee.
Below are before and after pictures of our kitchen preparing for opening up the exterior wall. This whole wall, with the door and flanking windows, will come down once the addition is up. The fireplace will be in the added family room.
If you click on the picture above (taken from the same angle as the other pictures above it), the “little” piece of wood in the bottom left corner is the end of the fly away beam that extends outside and supports the house. It comes into the kitchen about 6 – 8 feet.
These boulders were excavated and set permanently as landscaping highlights. It was either that or pay for them to be jack-hammered so they could be loaded into a dump truck. Orange cone is a full-size cone like the ones you see around road construction. My mom is envisioning a hosta garden around the boulders. Next year’s project.
Below, foundation is set for the basement. It cured last week. There will be two windows along the east wall and on the back wall, a walk-out to a small patio.
Today, April 16th, the framing marathon begins.
Morels
Walking to Ada’s last week, I passed Mom & Dad’s neighbors’ house. Herbert came out, said “hello” then asked why I was carrying two cornstalks. When I told him it was to keep the mean country dogs from biting me, he raised an eyebrow. He can raise one eyebrow higher than anyone I’ve ever met. “Come here… Take this.” I had deliberately not picked up a stick, thinking that would be too heavy. “It’s hickory. It’s not heavy. You’ll need it for the house on the corner.” It was as light as my two cornstalks combined. We walked to the end of his drive and then he walked down the road with me. I explained I was walking in the Avon Walk Boston in May and was putting in a few miles while visiting Mom & Dad. “Hmm, I walked two miles yesterday, picked morels.”
I could smell them frying when he said that. Dad had brought a few home from his travels earlier in the week; Mom fried them in flour and butter. We each had a tiny serving. An appetizer. A tease.
(For those unfamiliar with morel mushrooms… They have a relatively short season and look like sponges. They are earthy tasting and pretty common in Iowa, but ya gotta know where to look for them. Any timber with cattle grazing won’t have them. They sell for $40 or more a pound. No one I know sells them. They EAT them.)
Salivating, I say, “Where?” A question no morel mushroom hunter answers. The one-word question just tumbled out of my mouth.
“In our timber.” Right next to the field I had been cultivating in on Sunday.
“Oh.” Wondering if I could sneak in and pick just a few.
“We must have gotten four pounds yesterday. But there were snakes everywhere. Little baby ones.”
“Oh…” 80% chance this was a bluff. Morel Mushroom Territory Protection Strategy.
“Just little garters?”
“No. Some other kind.”
“Rat?”
“No.”
“Corn?”
“No… Fox I think.”
I had never heard of a fox snake. 90% chance this was a bluff.
“I know what you’re doing. You’re just telling me there are snakes so I won’t touch your mushrooms!”
“Noooo! I wouldn’t do that. I’m not kidding. There were snakes all over the place.”
He seemed honest. Sincere. 70% chance this was a bluff.
We parted ways after a quarter mile; he returned home and I continued to Ada’s. On the way, I met the three dogs on the corner. They rushed to the road, angrily barking. I held the stick and the cornstalks high and shouted “Stay!” They stopped.
Back at home, I told Mom about my encounter with Herbert. She laughed – 99% sure it was a bluff.
Snakes make me scream. I could not go morel hunting back there to prove it right or wrong with the possibility of barging in on a snake family.
That afternoon, Mom & I took the boys to a wildlife exhibit featuring Iowa animals. And there it was slithering in an aquarium tank: a fox snake. Native to Iowa, it emits a smell like a fox to ward off enemies.
But the sign said nothing about their ability to guard patches of morel mushrooms, nestled amongst bluebells, jack-in-the-pulpits, ground ginger, and the plants that look like little beach umbrellas. This specimen was at least three feet long. No regrets in not calling Herbert’s bluff.
People to Know: Wendy
Some people see the world in black and white. And those people expect, well, to see black and white in everything. Then there are those of us who live in a world of gray hues. Where ideas bud, meld, refresh, intertwine… and that drives the other half a little nutty.
Take my friend Wendy Sue Web Guru. Wendy built my site. Then she built her site:www.wendysuewebguru.com. Wendy is a great web guru. She loves the stuff. Wendy is also a problem-solver. She sees through obstacles and can formulate a plan to get to the other side. Wendy believes in herself and has a positive outlook. She’s a good coach.
So… which is she? A web guru? A coach? My take: she’s both. Wendy took my personal endeavor and gave it a place to live and to grow. I don’t know “hosting” or “platform” or other web geek-speak. Wendy does. More importantly, she can translate web geek-speak for us non-speakers. I didn’t worry during the creation of my site. I felt comfortable saying, “I have no idea what you are talking about.” Wendy made sense out of it.
Together, we worked out what I wanted to do with my mountain of writing. She made the vision come to life from bare bones to what it became: www.lindamalcolm.com. Now, I know how to add stories to my site, and I know how to easily communicate with my readers. It has been an exhilarating journey!
If you have a passion and need a forum to share it – and have no idea how to do it – don’t think about it in black and white: “I can” or “I can’t.” Wendy is someone who makes things happen. At the moment, Wendy is offering a great deal for a couple lucky people: creation of a website for $300. If you are interested, take a look at her site for details.
Believe me, you “can.”
Besides, “can’t” died in the war. That’s what my dad always says.
Meet Harrison and Olivia
Harrison and Olivia are preschoolers moving too quickly through childhood. They keep their parents hopping with their provacative stories, innocent conversations, and random actions. Harrison and Olivia are an amalgamation of all the little characters I have met or heard about while being Mom. You may see their stories occasionally running through this site.
Thanks to the many moms who have shared their adventures along the way, providing sanity and comfort in knowing our experiences aren’t solitary. You may see one of your cherubs in Harrison or Olivia.
Here’s a classic conversation between Mom and preschool boy Harrison, who is taking a shower.
Harrison, ripping open the shower curtain: “Whoa, Mom, what are THESE?!?!”
Mom: “Testicles.”
Harrison: “Where did they come from?”
Mom: “You’ve always had them.”
Harrison: “Will my brains come out here?”
Pause.
Pause.
Pause.
Mom: “I hope not.”
Happy Hump Day…
Easter Sunday
Easter Sunday was a great day. In Iowa, four-plus hours working with Mom & Dad outside trimming 10-foot high bushes, transplanting flowers, and cultivating a 20-acre field. This morning, Monday the 9th, I decided yesterday could most definitely count as cross-training in preparation for the Avon Walk, particularly the trimming and digging: my upper body had a great workout. As for cultivating the cornfield, I convinced Dad to let me do it. The cultivating was much easier than the convincing. Inspiration: a pick-up truck, electric hedge trimmers, long-handled trimmers, and a big International tractor.
Two years ago this week, I finished radiation. The things I did yesterday were impossible then. "Every morning is Easter morning from now on... Every morning is Easter morning, the past is over and gone..." Part of a song I remember singing as a teen leading the 6 a.m. sunrise service at church. I found myself humming it most of the day yesterday. Easter Sunday was a celebration of life... His and, selfishly, mine.
Spring 2011 Boy Quotes
Up until last spring, I did a pretty good job of occasionally recording moments and quotes from the boys. I haven't been as attentive to that in the last year. Probably because we've added gymnastics, scouts, trumpet, and piano to the weekly rotation. I spend more time driving and listening to the gems than I do writing them down. This week I found some old ones from last spring.
... journal entry from May 2011...
Will is a dedicated Diary of a Wimpy Kid reader and now a writer and a cartoonist. Shopping for a journal, he first picked out a leather-looking journal. Then he saw another red, material-covered hardback and changed his mind. “Mom, this one is a little cheaper and it looks more like a New York Times best-seller.”
“No editing of this one, Mom. I’m writing it perfectly, ready to be published.” What’s the title? “Diary of a Non-Wimpy Kid.”
“Mom, you are such a good writer.” “Thank you!” I replied, wondering what he had read of mine. “You never make mistakes.” “I make mistakes all the time!” “But even though you have cross-outs, I love your cursive writing.”
Liam, killer one-liners:
With his arm overhead, looking at his pit: “Mom, is this my army pit?”
“Where are my hippos?” Those would be hips.
A recent I-love-you-more game: Me: “I love you all the way to Princess Peach’s castle.” “Mom, I love you all the way to Mars and back with the sunshine on your face.”
In the bathroom getting ready for bed: “Oh, I peed in the eye!” Me: “WHAT? You peed in your eye???” “No, the toilet’s eye.” Three nights running, I still come running when he hits the target and makes the announcement.
... end of entry...
Uncovering the Real England: Spiders
A wolf spider sat quietly just inside Mom's back door tonight in an old Country Crock margine bowl. Motionless. But he was only playing possum. He moved when I picked up the bowl and gently set it outside on the cement bench. It reminded me of a brief spider encounter I had in England a few years ago.
... from a 2009 journal entry...
Hertfordshire Horror. A large spider found in the county of Hertfordshire, England. I've heard they can be as big as the palm of your hand. Finding one in your house: the dread of that puts Horror in its nickname. However, with no screens on the windows and the windows flying open to catch a breeze, the invitation is open for the Horrors and their smaller cousins to gravitate inward.
On the night we arrived in England, Bill’s mum announced from the upstairs bathroom, “There’s a spider in the bathroom!” That set the next 15-minute scene into action. My 40-something husband (despite being married to an Iowa farm girl for 18 years) and sister-in-law went into English spider-removal mode. Fortunately, it was a smaller spider, not a Horror. “Stay here, Anne, I’ll take care of it!” I imagine an anti-spider cape springing from Bill’s shoulders as he ascended the stairs. “OK, it’s under a glass... we need something to slide under the glass. A lid.” Finding this amusing, I simply stood back and watched.
Anne came up to help, bringing some kind of a lid with her. Then came the logistical challenge: how do you get the lid under the glass without the spider escaping? With a loud combined effort, the three eventually worked it out. Anne zoomed down the stairs, “OK, Bill, I’ve got the door open!” Bill flew out of the bathroom and down the stairs. They both went out the door… and disappeared. I went out to see where they were: two blocks down the street they released the spider. Probably after spinning in a circle three times to confuse it so it wouldn’t make its way back to the house. Reminiscent of two teenagers, they walked back giggling with relief. I met them at the door, amazed that getting rid of a spider could take that long. “You make life so difficult!”
The next day, I saw a spider – not a Horror – in June’s kitchen. It was tightly tucked into the back corner. I couldn’t get it without moving the table and chairs. As the week went on, it gradually journeyed closer to the back door. On day 7, and in the house by myself, I was able to reach it by standing on a kitchen chair. Squish, wipe, flush. Five seconds, job done.
I know spiders are good: they eat other bugs. But there are hundreds of thousands of them out there. I’m writing this secretly on English soil. It feels like a confession of guilt. I’ve broken an assumed spider-protection law.
...end of journal entry...
(More Dancing with a Foreign City Slicker...)
Living the Can of Worms Theory
Proving the can-of-worms theory to be true, last fall a contractor was looking at the back of our house to get a feeling for where the fireplace addition would go. He stared at our 100-year-old barn then turned to me and said, “It’s none of my business, but do you know your barn has serious structural issues?” Indeed, the steep roof was spooning and the eaves were bowing out. Before we started the fireplace project, we had an internal skeleton structure built in the barn loft, but with the help of a contractor, that only took a week. It should be good for another 100 years, and now we have formally started the fireplace addition.
On April 3rd, the second day of excavation, the foundation crumbled under a corner of the house where it shouldn't have. A big post is supporting the corner so the roof doesn't collapse. The floors are on some other support system. Apparently the use of mortar wasn't deemed necessary in 1880 when the house was built. One rock was removed by hand from the foundation and the stones simple rolled away. Kind of like the end of the game Jenga.
There should be a new corner wall of support tomorrow. Meanwhile, the digger continued excavating our new basement, which will be under the fireplace addition. And, as I write this, the boys are sleeping in our room on the futon, away from the corner supported by the wooden post.
A Can of Worms
We have passed the demolition stage and are now in full excavation mode at our house with The Beginning of a Fireplace. It’s taken several years to put this plan in motion, but it’s finally happening. Our hesitancy in jumping into this fireplace project stems from a leaky faucet.
The bathroom faucet started to leak while we had guests visiting one summer.
A few weeks later, we found a new faucet and Bill set out to install it.
But the old faucet was solidly glued onto the pink sink.
The only way to get the faucet out was to take the sink out.
But the sink was firmly glued to the tiled vanity top.
The tiles in the vanity top broke when the sink came out.
With a new faucet, the same pink sink (no, we weren't lucky enough for THAT to break), a new tiled countertop, and a new backsplash, we had functional a bathroom sink -- four months later.
We are all too familiar with the can-of-worms theory.
The Page of Accountability
In seven weeks, I am walking 26 miles over two days. I started walking in February, logging 10 – 15 miles a week. I need to kick it into high gear now. I’m going to update this page over the next seven weeks. It’s my running log of training. The one on my fridge isn’t cutting it: it’s covered in construction dust since The Beginning of a Fireplace. Part of me wants an audience for this page. Then another part of me wants it to sit quietly racking up mileage. I hope the daunting title keeps me in line with training.
So, here goes…
Training for the Avon Walk Boston May 19th & 20th. I'm In It to End It.
Monday, April 2, 2012 -- 1 hour pilates; 4-mile walk on treadmill at 3 mph: 80 minutes. Inspiration: my pilates instructor who kept me company on the treadmill next to mine.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012 -- 6-mile walk on the Charles Esplanade in Boston: 105 minutes. Inspiration: A friend's mom was recently diagnosed with breast cancer; she had surgery today. My friend and I both have 6-year-old boys, so I set my goal for 6 miles... and did it.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012 -- 1 hour pilates. Inspiration: It felt good afterwards -- but I nearly got sucked into the day without going to the class. Like so many other things, once I get there, I never regret going. Why is getting "there" so hard?
Saturday, April 7, 2012 -- 90-minute walk in Iowa, probably about 4 miles, but my $2.99 app said 18.5 miles. I'm in 2g territory not 4g. It felt like 18 miles. Wind from every direction. Piles of horse poop to dodge. Dropped my camera and broke the lens. Inspiration (before the walk): walking on gravel roads.
Sunday, April 8, 2012 -- (Still in Iowa) 4+ hours working with Mom & Dad outside trimming 10-foot high bushes, transplanting flowers, and cultivating a 20-acre field. This morning, Monday the 9th, I decided yesterday could most definitely count as cross-training, particularly the trimming and digging: my upper body had a great workout. As for cultivating the cornfield, I convinced Dad to let me do it. The cultivating was much easier than the convincing. Inspiration: a pick-up truck, electric hedge trimmers, long-handled trimmers, and a big International tractor.
Monday, April 9, 2012 -- (Still in Iowa) 60-minute walk. Inspiration: A visit with my friend Ada at the half-way mark.
Friday, April 13, 2012 -- 8-mile walk around Lake Q, 2 hours and 45 minutes. Inspiration: to see if I could make it to 8 miles. I did. Definitely need to add more conditioning walks during the week -- and take ibuprofen before walking.
Spring Break Week -- Short walks on the beach, family bike ride, and the four of us playing baseball outside... Friday, the 20th, did a quick 3.3 miles around Lake Q. I tried to pick up the pace: Instead of a 20-minute mile, I did the walk in 52 minutes.
Monday, April 23, 2012 -- 1-hour pilates
Tuesday, April 24, 2012 -- 3.3 mile walk around Lake Q, 53 minutes Inspiration: new cushioned walking socks -- at end of walk: 1st blister
Wednesday, April 25, 2012 -- 1-hour pilates
Friday, April 27, 2012 -- 3.3 mile walk around Lake Q, 53 minutes, followed by 20-minute cool down walk. Inspiration: Advil, new shoes & new n0n-cushioned socks: no blisters. I bought two new pairs of shoes and will alternate wearing them on training walks between now and May 19th... The walk is in three weeks!
Early May update: I'm walking 3 - 5 times a week & 4 - 6 miles at a time. I did another longer walk a week ago: 8 miles. Pilates is hit and miss. I've used that time to walk this week.
The Beginning of a Fireplace
Planning the move from the Midwest to the Northeast seven years ago, we made a list of what we really wanted in a house: to be close to work, to have enough bedrooms, and to have wood-burning fireplace. Then, we found a barn and bought the house that came with it. Since then, we’ve been working out how to get that fireplace. Bill nor I relished the idea of moving again. We bought at the top of the market in 2005; we like our neighbors a lot; and we like our location. Plus, we need our barn.
Three years ago we sat with an architect and drew up fireplace plans. Then pushed them to the back burner. Last spring we started again and came up with Fireplace Plan II. Then we looked for a builder last fall. Finally, two weeks ago we started work on the fireplace.
And the first step in adding a fireplace to the house?
Why, plant a 30-foot dumpster under the window of the barn loft and start chucking things out of the loft over the rail, of course!
It can only get more interesting from here as we work toward celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary roasting s’mores over a fire in our new fireplace come October.