A Post About Nothing ... and Yard Work.

I sat down for just a few minutes to do a little Internet browsing and wound up with 60 pounds of dog sacked out on top of me. They're so innocent when they're sleeping - awake not so much - but I hate to wake them when they're so snuggly. So, you get a blog post from me. Mostly because I've browsed every website I can possibly think of and I'm bored.

Oh, the things I could be getting done right now. Bo's track meet tonight is at a school with dreaded outdoor lights on the track, which means an ETA of most likely midnight. I should be... doing laundry, doing dishes, finishing taxes {can you tell I'm floating our money 'til tax day on that one?}, some ironing, planting the remainder of plants I didn't finish this weekend...whew, wearing myself out typing all that.

However, we did get through one major accomplishment this weekend - yard work. Eight hours of yard work I might add. Saturday morning we went to Lowe's - along with every other spring chicken getting a jump on their chores. We left with a new lawn mower, edger and lots of fabulous flowers. Dang - I'm thinking a picture would be a great addition to what is turning into a house posting, but it's dark. I'll catch you up with a picture later.

We did not leave with one item I was regretting around hour 6 - a blower. There was already a lawn mower and edger on our flatbead cart and I was getting so tight with money I was starting to squeak. I suggested to Bo we should go with either a blower or edger, but not both. This was yard work argument #1. Well, I learned my lesson later on when I was designated the sidewalk sweeper. We need a damn blower. I was so tired of sweeping I was just doing good to sweep the clippings into the sewer drainages on the curb. {That stays between us. Although I'm sure some nosey neighbor watched me do it and will be reporting me to the city for illegal dumping.}

I thought it would be a great time to go ahead and get rid of all the existing mulch in the flower beds since I would be planting flowers. The homeowners before us had used recycled rubber tire mulch - great idea aesthetically, but that stuff doesn't decompose into the soil. Making an effort to "green up," I decided to rake it all out and re-mulch with wood chip mulch. Brainiac idea a quarter of the way in. My hamstrings were killing me from so much mulch scooping. {Did I forget to work out my hamstrings at the gym? Holy moly, I'm still recovering.}

Bring on yard work argument #2. Rubber mulch is heavy. I could only fill up garbage bags halfway or they were insanely heavy. I accumulated about 10 bags and suggested we condense the bags into larger contractor size black garbage bags. Well, that makes them impossible to pick up. And with the bags ripping and spilling mulch and the Rickners mid argument, we had to part ways for some time.

When it was all said and done, we got the front and back yard mowed and edged, old mulch gone, 12 new bags of mulch laid, new flowers in all the flower beds and bushes trimmed. Not bad for a days work, minus 2 big arguments and several tiffs throughout.

Oopsies.

Shooter was playing outside with Bo and got thirsty, but dropped his frisbee just a little too late..into his water bowl. Haha

Parenting 101

One week ago, Bo and I were in Vegas walking past the Sahara hotel where a mom was sitting on the sidewalk with her child and as each person walked by, she would whip out her Ritz cracker cardboard sign and nudge her child to yell out to tourists in broken English, "Sir, please. Help, sir."

One night ago, Bo and I were walking down 3rd street in downtown Fort Worth, where a large congregation of individuals were preaching the gospel to the passer-bys. As we walked by, scripture fliers were emphatically shoved in our face, then judgementally snatched back when we politely declined. A young boy, maybe 14 or 15 years old, stepped out into the path of traffic declaring each person who walked by a "heathen" for not taking the scriptures and living a righteous life, without the slightest concern or knowledge of each person's spiritual position. Fiercely judging each person who walked by, while who I presume was a parent behind him, encouraged the judgement. At least there better be a parent behind a 14 year old kid who is on the streets at 11:30 PM.

I started thinking. Which is worse? The parent who is teaching their kid that sponging off the world is the only way to survive - no dignity, pride or determination? Or the parent who believes they are affording their child every opportunity, influencing their life with God's word, yet teaching them to cast judgement and a mind-set of superiority on everyone? Or am I right because I intend to teach my children to work hard for what they want life to give them in return, God's love is extended to everyone and should be shared through your actions in a non-judgemental, compassionate manner?

It's Looking Up

I had to try spin class again today just to make sure I really made it through yesterday. Was I riding on adrenaline? Seems not. I successfully finished. Again. So rewarding. Although my rear end was quite sore from balancing on that sad excuse of a seat. There may be some truth to padded bike shorts.

I'm heading into the weekend pretty pumped after my gym accomplishments. I'm off tomorrow and intend to take advantage of sleeping in, maybe a little shopping for smaller clothes and a workout. I've got every weekend through April planned out so this weekend will be my last opportunity for calmness.

Spinning Hours Into Days

The spin bike has been mentally plaguing me. For weeks. You might remember past diatribes about my pain. Loathe. Detest. Anger. Courtney and I have become 4-5 day/week gym groupies since January and I haven't had the guts to go back. I assumed my elliptical machine {back row, of course} and watched as one, two, three, ten, twenty people filed out of the spin room each day comparing them to myself wondering how they managed to finish the class with only a slight forehead glisten. My word, when I came out of there, I had a limp, tomato face and blonde hair that was slicked to my head with sweat. Absolute fear.

Courtney's been after me to give it a try again for awhile now. One day at a time, she's brainwashed me into giving the thought three seconds of debate in my head. Then, poof, it goes.

Today, it stuck. She convinced me. I had a knot in my stomach all afternoon wondering if I had the stamina to endure all 60 minutes {Are you kidding me?!}. Sure, we've been putting in an hour of cardio every day since Janauary, but that was self-paced.

Today was a milestone. Finished the class. Petalling through every off-the-seat run at our instructors demand. Adding resistance each time. For a whole 60 minutes. Without stopping. I conquered. And I don't mean a slow ride through the bike trails taking in the breeze and scenery. I mean melt your mascara off, sweat running down the tip of your nose, make you want to say "Oh My Gravy" kind of workout.

There seems to be nothing more rewarding that a physical accomplishment you single-handedly give yourself every reason to fret over. And why? A spin bike? A stationary piece of equipment with one wheel? Certainly it's not the hardest activity I have every tried to accomplish. If it is, my life won't have much challenge in the future. I'm realizing this whole thing wasn't even physical to begin with. Once upon a time I ran a marathan - a whole one - and now a spin bike defeats me? One of my ALL TIME favorite sayings - "The only job where you'll every start on top is digging a hole." So true. I'll let you ponder that one for a minute and realize how many facets of your life you can apply it to.

I'm greatful for the strength I gained in 60 minutes, pacing myself to the Foo Fighters, working up some emotional sweat. I needed that.

All I have to say...

...is fuck you.

Frustration Abounds

Benjamin Franklin said, "The only things certain in life are death and taxes." However, an even more clever, unknown person followed up with, "Death and taxes may be certain, but we don't have to die every year." Taxes = death this year for us. For the first time in my life, I owe the government. More. All that we generously "contributed" was not sufficient or enough to result in a credit. I've done our taxes three times just to suppress my doubt, but I'm still baffled.

Where should I place the blame? The "marriage penalty", ObamaCare..

2011 continues to disappoint.

No Mas Cervezas

Two margaritas and five beers don't seem like such a good idea the next morning. And trying to get in a good workout that next morning makes them seem even worse of an idea. Add a trip to the driving range on an empty stomach to hit golf balls and three more beers at the Movie Tavern and you'll feel like I do right now.

I thought it would be a good idea to attempt our taxes just now in above state of mind and did nothing but piss myself off and close the program. That's gonna have to wait for another day.

Sometimes It Turns on a Dime

It's a frightening feeling at the bottom of your gut to realize what you have been afforded in life and how long you've taken it all for granted. No one on this entire planet has been given a promise of life. No matter what control you attempt to create around yourself - whether emotionally, financially, or physically, it's an illusion of walls. Fragile enough that a grain of sand could penetrate.

My grandma was diagnosed with Stage 2 Hodgkin's lymphoma. Bricks have come through my walls.