I love watching the fire dance, with the flames twisting and swaying just so. It’s so exciting, so romantic. Come on baby… Light my fire
Archives for May 2010
Mr. Muscle
The fact that you have to click back several pages worth to find a running-related post says A LOT. It says: Juls isn’t running.
Sadly, it’s true. I’ve been grounded from running since I overdosed on my Vibram’s. M.C. Muscle (my calf muscle), who has been extremely uptight lately, insisted upon it. He has made threats like this before. I know to listen. Believe me, he is no fun to be around when he is angry.
Yesterday, I thought he was better, more relaxed, when in fact he was NOT. I took to the pavement (wearing my Vibrams) and got a strict scolding a few feet down the sidewalk. Yeah, M.C. Muscle was not happy with me at all.
Today, I tried to bargain. I promised to take it easy AND to wear traditional running shoes, rather than minimalist footwear. After much coaxing, he and I headed out together along the railroad tracks for a short run.
During the run, M.C. Muscle was tentative but seemed to ease into the run part way through. After the run however, M.C. Muscle announced that tomorrow would be a good day for all things non-running like swimming, biking, or elliptical.
He promises me that he’ll lighten up soon – just not now.
After M.C. Muscle mellows out, I’ll schedule a play date to reintroduce him to the Vibram’s. Only this time, I’ll let them get acquainted more slowly.
Music is magic
I’ve always loved this photo, although I can’t tell you exactly why. I just do.
I’ve never learned to play a musical instrument but I sure am drawn to it. I admire the people who can and respect the people who try.
Truly, music is magic. It has the capacity to do many things. Sometimes, it moves me to tears, or dance, or into my happiest running pace. And when I am able to access the music in me and sing along, it’s even better.
2012
My 11 year old son is losing sleep over the end of the world prophecy of 2012. What little I have to offer in the way of comfort is not enough. Even when he is able to find comfort in the idea of eternal life, he then starts crying for his cousin, Sophie. “She’s too young,” he cries. And don’t even get him started on the babies of the world.
If he world really is going to end, I’d rather not spend the next couple of years worrying. Now is the time to live — maybe even live like we are dying.
Am I wrong?
Mr. & Mrs. Bird
After many a dropped egg, Mr. & Mrs. Bird are building their new home a few beams down from my front door. Here’s hoping that their eggs stay in the nest this time.