Category Archives: personal

I Did Run!

Did anybody expect Saturday Running Commentary to continue for two weeks? Personally I had my doubts. In fact, I got up this morning at the lamentable hour of 3:30 with no immediate plans to run. After all, I had all day. This isn’t summer, when I have to get my run in before the heat of the day. I had some coffee with my husband, read Friday’s papers, played a little solitaire, ate a piece of peanut butter toast. Nice morning.

About 5:30 I decided to get in the shower. Steven had to work at 6:30, so he would still be here to put lotion on my back (a very convenient aspect of having a husband). As I went upstairs, I realized I was feeling down. Nothing horrible, but a little… depressed. What a dumb state of affairs for my day off. If I went running, I thought, I would feel better. I should go running.

I would go running! I confess, the thought of “should go running” occurred to me as a regret that I hadn’t, not an encouragement to. After all, I had eaten peanut butter toast. Had it digested enough? No matter! Where were some running clothes?

I found a semi-dirty pair of long johns and a long-sleeved t-shirt. The long johns were just these thin polyester jobs. I don’t think they’re really made to be warm; I think they are just another layer to put on. I usually wear them as a comfortable alternative to pantyhose. They work as leggings.

Before I got to the end of the driveway I turned around and ran back into the house for my hat, my black knitted toque. It was under 40 degrees, according to my thermostat. I only wished I had gloves, too. Off I went.

I ran to Valley Health, to run the hill it stands on. Regular readers may recall that that is my starter hill. It’s kind of steep, not too long. An effort, but doable. I did it.

I was glad I had worn my reflective vest, because it has a zipper pocket. I had a tissue in the pocket, and I needed it. It didn’t feel too cold once I got moving, but it was cold enough to make my nose run. Sorry if you find it disgusting of me to mention it.

A few lights were on in houses I ran by. A number of vehicles drove by. Not everybody sleeps in on a Saturday. Many porch lights were on. For people who never made it home last night? What racy things were they up to? I prefer to think about people up to racy things than getting into accidents or prosaically forgetting to turn the porch light off.

A scarecrow backlit by a porch light leaned at an eerie angle. I felt pleased to think of Halloween lasting a little longer, although I suppose the eeriness was unintentional. I felt happier and happier with myself that I was out there running. Yeah, I’m bad!

I finished the run and cool-down walk with Tabby before Steven had to leave for work, although he was not there for my shower (one makes these compromises). I had run the same length of time I had on Monday and last Saturday, 25 minutes. Taking Tuesday through Friday off was perhaps not the best thing to do. In my defense, I voted on Tuesday, I spent a lot of time Wednesday walking up and down my yard dismantling my container garden, and it rained on Thursday.

But what a lovely feeling to have run and made my blog post before 8 a.m. on a Saturday. Bring on the rest of the day!

A Few Lame Thoughts

Ah, Lame Post Friday. My day of random observations and half-baked philosophy. My day when I’m too happy that it’s Friday to write a so-called real blog post. That is today.

I randomly observed snow falling at least three times this afternoon. This leads me to some half-baked philosophy about the change of seasons. Spring to summer to fall to winter to spring, etc. Is the lesson here that a different season will follow or that eventually spring will come again? Ooh, this is a philosophical question. Does life truly change or is it an endless cycle in which certain things happen over and over? Birth, life, death…

I can’t really expound upon these questions with any real erudition, because, I admit it, I’m not really all that smart. At least, I believe I do have some semblance of intelligence, but I don’t have any real, true, insightful answers to life’s deep questions. Does anybody? That was another philosophical question, put your hands down (you know who you are).

I don’t know if anybody has guessed from the above paragraphs, but I’m tired. It seems I am always tired after work these days. Not enough exercise? Too much fattening food? Middle-age doing its dirty work? These are not philosophical questions, but nobody need feel obligated to answer.

I have conflicting plans for Mohawk Valley adventures this weekend, but I hope to have some good things to write about. If not, you know me, I’ll always think of something. Happy Friday, everyone.

Herkimer Ghosts

I love ghost stories any time of year, but I find they are easiest to come by at Halloween. Last week on Oct. 30, Steven and I heard not one but four ghost stories, one each at Herkimer NY’s Historic Four Corners.

The event, sponsored by Herkimer Now, began at 6:30.m. We put Tabby on the leash and walked from our house. It had been raining earlier in the day and was still misting a little as we set out. Tabby seemed OK with it (she usually doesn’t like to be rained on), so we persevered. We could see a small crowd gathered around the courthouse steps as we approached. A lady dressed in an old-fashioned dress with a hoop skirt and a shawl stood on the steps.

I thought she looked familiar. When she greeted Tabby as Super Dog, I remembered her from the first Superhero Sprint. It was Tina Cirelli, a member of Herkimer Now. I also remembered her from the Main Street Walks that Herkimer Now sponsored last year.

Kathy Penree welcomed everyone and introduced the first storyteller, the ghost of Grace Brown. I think most people in the area have heard of Grace Brown. She was murdered by her boyfriend, Chester Gilette, who was tried in the courtroom on whose steps the ghost now stood. At least, she assured us she was a ghost. I must say she looked pretty good for someone who had been conked on the head, drowned and been dead for over a hundred years.

Herkimer Now had said on their Facebook page that the stories were not meant to be historically accurate but were for entertainment purposes. The Ghost of Grace Brown was certainly entertaining. I always pictured Grace Brown as a quieter, more self-effacing person. That would have made a boring story. This was fun, and she pretty much got the facts of the case right.

Next we all walked across the street to the 1834 Jail where Jim Greiner told us the story of a serial killer from the 1920s. Jim Greiner, as you may remember, wrote a book about Roxalana Druse, who killed her husband and was subsequently hanged at the very jail we stood in front of. I’ve heard Jim speak before and taken tours of the jail led by him. He is a dynamic speaker.

I confess I missed part of the story, because Tabby was pulling quite insistently on her leash. I thought she might have to poop, so we moved a discreet distance away. As we went I recognized the police officer who was standing nearby as one of my new friends from Coffee and Conversation with a Cop. We said a quiet hello.

I was sorry to have missed any part of Jim’s story. Perhaps I’ll get another chance to hear him tell it, or maybe he’ll write a book about it then give a talk about the book at the Herkimer County Historical Society. but I digress.

Next we went to the Herkimer Reformed Church, which is surrounded by an intriguing-looking graveyard. Kaylynn Iglesias from Ilion told the story of the Weeping Widow of Herkimer, which she said she had first heard as a little girl. We’ve seen Kaylynn in a few plays at Ilion Little Theatre. She is a talented actress and an excellent storyteller. By the end of the story many of us were making plans to walk by the cemetery Halloween night and listen for the ghost.

Anthony Brindisi, mayor of Herkimer, awaited us in front of the Historical Society for the final tale of the evening. He told us how the Suiter Building, as it is called, was built by Dr. A. Walter Suiter, who acted as medical examiner for some of Herkimer’s prominent murder trials.

The mayor led us down Court Street where we could see the back of the building. Some archaeologists had been digging back there, he told us, but they had mysteriously disappeared. He was going on to say nobody knew why they had left and he hoped they came back, when a few of the kids in the crowd exclaimed that they saw somebody.

“What? Who?” the mayor asked.

“That guy!”

Then we all heard a very scary noise. I never saw anybody (or any THING!), but others did. I think one lady got a picture. I hope she posts it on Herkimer Now’s Facebook page.

Steven and I were so happy we had walked down for the program. It was great fun. I sought out Kathy Penree and told her I would love to be one of the storytellers next year. Steven could do it with me. Maybe we could be Roxalana Druse and her murdered husband.

Herkimer Now, who sponsored the event, is an organization whose aim is to revitalize Herkimer, beginning with Main Street. In addition to the storytelling, they sponsored trick or treating on Main Street and a party at the VFW on Halloween night. They also have plans for Christmas. To keep informed on future events, visit their website, www.herkimernow.org, and Like their Facebook page.

A Word to the Wuss

I should have seen it coming that if I had a Tired Tuesday, I would only be up to a Wuss-out Wednesday the next day. Well, sorry folks. I’m down. Down, down, down in the dumps.

I spent most of the day down in the dumps. I don’t mean to be tiresome, but I just can’t always be the cheerful Mohawk Valley Girl. Some people can write when they are down. I say power to them. All I could do on breaks at work was to work on puzzles in a puzzle book. That did not improve my mood to any marked degree, because I’ve done all the puzzles I like. All that is left is puzzles that I don’t like or are too hard for me or both.

Now I am being exceptionally tiresome. What a kvetch.

In my defense, after work I did come home and do a few useful things. I worked on dismantling my container garden. Astute readers (do I have any other kind?) may remember that on Monday I felt guilty for running and not working on that or on raking the lawn. My delightful husband Steven raked the lawn on Tuesday. I wanted to contribute.

After a short Facebook break, I typed into the upstairs computer what I have written so far on my articles to submit to Mohawk Valley Living magazine. Um, I did not write them today. I did not add to them either. After exhausting myself literarily (my computer is underlining that word, but my dictionary says it is correct) if not literally, I chopped vegetables and began making a salad for my lunch tomorrow. When it was almost time for Steven to be home, I put Tabby on the leash and walked out to meet him. I could probably have written my blog post on that walk. Oh well, missed a bet.

I perceive that I am over 300 words. Perhaps they are not good words, but they are words nonetheless. Ooh, that raises a question suitable for some half-baked philosophy on Lame Post Friday: Isn’t it the ARRANGEMENT of the words that is not good and the words themselves neutral? Followed by a listing of words that I say are good words. I’ll let the reader fill in the bad words for him or herself. I bet some of you already are.

The Ballot of Steve and Cindy

Yes, I voted today. Would you believe the reason I didn’t write my blog post earlier today was that I was busy pondering my decisions on how to cast my ballot? Well, it’s not, but in fact I have not yet written my blog post for today. Full disclosure: I have one almost entirely written, but I want it to be good and anyways it’s too long to type in on a Tired Tuesday such as today.

Be that as it may, here is my voting tale.

Steven and I had several errands to run, so I suggested I get home, change my shoes and we go. Of course it didn’t work that way. For one reason, there was a pot of hot coffee when I arrived home. Naturally I had a cup. It is a rare example of total alignment of the universe that I LOVE the way my husband makes coffee. Surprisingly, it was not why I married him, but I sure do enjoy it now that I’m here.

It didn’t take long to be on our way. When we got to our polling place, a lady standing outside told us where the door to go in was. We already knew but thought it was nice of her to be helpful, so we thanked her as if it was new information. We had to walk by several doors with signs informing us that this was NOT the door. That always amuses me. I was exaggeratedly relieved when we found the correct door, clearly labeled.

Of course we went to the wrong table and the wrong book on the right table before they found where we were supposed to sign for our ballots. One of the poll workers remembers Steve from the play Harvey at Ilion Little Theatre, in which Steven played Dr. Chumley.

“Hi, Doc!” he said. He told another worker that Steven participates at plays in Ilion. I told him Steven might be in another play next year. I do hope Steven will audition for one.

At last we had cast our ballots, thus fulfilling our democratic duty. Steven asked for a sticker, but alas, they were out. We left to run our errands with a little frisson of virtue. Drug store, bank, grocery store, I liked voting best.

Run, Not Rake

I went running today. That’s two runs in three days after a break of over a month. I have been having a hard time going running after work and even when I have been running regularly, I have a hard time running on Monday, because, you know, Monday. Therefore, I feel quite pleased with myself and I am going to reward myself by posting another Running Commentary.

I spent a good portion of the day today telling myself I would go home and run. For once I did not think of any good reasons not to. That was nice, because it can get tiresome arguing with yourself. A few times when the sun went behind some clouds I didn’t even feel my hopes rising that I would be let off the hook with a downpour. I just thought, if it rains, I can run on the mini-tramp while watching the silent horror movie I DVR’d off TCM last week.

No rain changed my plans. I did not let my dog Tabby’s hopeful look send me on a guilt trip. I just went upstairs, changed into running clothes and got the heck going. It was warm enough for shorts and a t-shirt. I didn’t even need to put my headband over my ears. It was awesome. There was still plenty of cloud cover, too, so the sun was not in my eyes. Then again, we just changed the clocks back. The sun is lower in the sky by 4:01 p.m., which is what time I left the house.

I headed up to German Street and turned left towards Caroline. I thought I would do the down Caroline, up Margaret, down Henry, up Bellinger routine. No busy streets to cross, lots of interesting houses to look at, I could rock this. I didn’t think I had to do more than 20 minutes although it would be nice if I went 25, as I did on Saturday. I like to keep things loose on my weekday runs, see what my body feels up to. No point in killing myself. I still had a blog post to write and dinner to cook.

As I ran, scuffling through the leaves when I found them, I did not feel guilty about leaving my little dog behind (she doesn’t like to run with me). However, I soon felt I was a selfish wretch for running at all. You see, our back yard is covered with leaves. My husband Steven plans to spend a good portion of his day off tomorrow raking leaves and dismantling my container garden on the deck. Now, raking leaves is perfectly good exercise. If I wanted to burn calories, why the blankety-blank didn’t I just pick up a rake and get moving? Oh dear.

Still running, I pondered my options. Rake after my run? I could do that. Finish the run, take Tabby on the cool-down walk, pop open the garage door, find my gardening gloves, and have at it. Good plan. But what about my blog post? What about dinner? I pictured the clock, tried to figure how long things would take me, debated how long of a run I really needed now that I was out here and, truth be known, enjoying the act of running quite a bit.

I wondered if a heart-felt apology would make things right. Well, no, the leaves would still be there. I could tell him we’ll rake together as soon as I get home on Tuesday. He might not like to wait that long. Perhaps I had better just rake some today. I thought about opening the garage door. Our garage door opens hard. I had actually gone an entire Monday at work without much of a backache. I didn’t want to open the garage door.

Oh, what kind of a lame excuse is that? I stopped thinking about raking and started wondering how long I ought to run for. All the way down Henry, across Park Avenue and through Myers Park? Just all the way down Henry? Maybe just one more block?

I ended up doing 25 minutes. By the time Tabby and I had walked a very enjoyable cool-down walk and I had stretched, I had forgotten all about the leaves. I took a nice hot shower and got into sweats. I looked at Facebook and checked my email. I realized I felt very tired. I decided to try to write my blog post anyways.

I hope it turned out OK.

Oh yeah, now I have to cook dinner. Damn.

Writing and Running

In lieu of my usual Wrist to Forehead Sunday or a Blogger’s Day Off, which I was quite inclined to take, I offer a brief meditation on writing.

Two things the reader may or may not know about me by now: (one) I run, but I sometimes have difficulty sticking to it. I’ll go for months running regularly, improving myself, writing about it and in general enjoying it. Then I stop, for one reason or another, and often have difficulty starting up again. (Two) I have started many novels and only ever finished one, despite being, I make bold to say it myself, a pretty good writer.

I started running again yesterday after a pause of more than a month. It was awesome. I will surely run again within the next couple of days. I told my sister, Diane, about it when we talked on the phone. She told me she ran and walked with their recently acquired puppy. It seems the puppy likes to run with her. I told her it was a good way to begin running: walk and run. I have done it. Now, I said, I have been running enough and stopping for a short time enough, that when I start again I run for a short time, say 20 to 25 minutes (it was 25 yesterday), then increase it by 10 percent each week.

Talk turned to writing, because Diane is a very good writer and usually has a novel or two in the works. I said how I am having a hard time with my novel. It has reached the stage where I can’t just write: I have to figure out how the plot as a whole will unfold and then write the specific scenes necessary. I talked about how it seemed I should spend all day on Saturday writing, say while Steven is at work, but I never seem to.

Diane made the suggestion that I treat it as my running: that is, work for a set time, say 20 minutes, then stop. Do that for a week or so, then up the time. I had actually thought of this method but not implemented it with any degree of success. However, when somebody smarter than you suggests something, suddenly it seems like a MUCH better idea than when you thought of it yourself.

In fact, Diane has done it herself. She works on her novel during her lunch hour. She jolly well has to stop at a certain time, because she has to go back to work. Then she returns to her writing all fired up, because she didn’t work till she was completely petered out.

It’s brilliant! I tried it. Sort of. I spent more than 20 minutes typing in scenes I had previously written. Wow, this novel is a mess. I finally settled on who the murderer is, and I’m not clear on who gets killed.

Well, that is neither here nor there. The point is, I shall continue to write. I shall build up my writing muscles. I shall also run. I’ll write blog posts about both. I hope you’ll stay tuned.

Post Halloween Run

Let fanfare right and banner fly! Saturday Running Commentary is BACK! For today, anyways.

We got up at 3:30 this morning, because Steven had to work at 6:30. I had said I would have a cup of coffee then go running. I heard you burn more calories if you consume caffeine before your workout. I knew there was a danger that while I drank the coffee I might talk myself out of running, but it was a chance I was willing to take.

I was hungry right away, so I ate a banana with peanut butter a little after four and got ready to run by five. I was really looking forward to it by then. I have missed running. I wanted to run after work several days in the past few weeks, but Tabby would look so happy to see me and would so clearly want to go for a walk, that I just couldn’t disappoint her. It seems I am not capable of walking my dog and then going for a run. Perhaps I could work on that.

The temperature was in the low 40s, so I wore leggings and long sleeves. They were the leggings and mock turtleneck I had worn under my Halloween costume last night, so I felt all reduce-reuse-recycle. I was happy I found my reflective vest, because the clothes were black (Halloween costume, you know). I put a headband over my ears, found running socks and shoes, and I was on my way.

My hands got cold, but the rest of me felt pretty OK. My legs did not complain AT ALL for at least the first half of the run. My breathing wasn’t too bad, either. The cold air bothered my throat a little. I tried the “in through your nose, out through your mouth” thing, but as usual it did not work for me. My nose will just not let in enough air.

I ran down German Street towards the high school. I could see the sign blinking messages. I saw that the Herkimer Footlighters were going to present something, but a tree got in the way before I saw what. I’m sure it will be in the newspaper or I’ll see a poster somewhere.

I rounded the corner and ran down Church Street to Main Street. I was looking for Halloween decorations, figuring it would be one of my last chances to. It could be the streets I’ve been on lately, but I seem to see fewer Halloween decorations this year. I hope a lot of people will decorate for Christmas. I like decorations.

Main Street was quiet and deserted. No lights greeted me, no cars went by. As I passed Basloe Library I remembered that Guitar Group is starting up again. This is an open jam session held every Saturday in a room in the library. Anybody is invited to come play and sing. I sing quietly, so nobody need be put off by my possible participation.

As I ran by the post office, I reminded myself to write a few postcards to mail. I did not write any last week, which I feel was remiss of me. Through Myers Park and up Bellinger Street. This had not been a bad run at all.

I ended up doing 25 minutes, which I thought was good considering it has been at least a month since I’ve run. I didn’t even feel too tired. As Tabby walked my cool-down with me, I felt pretty good about myself. And I saw a few Halloween decorations to admire. I probably would have seen more if I had been running all through October. Let that be a lesson to me.

Less Wine, More Time

Yes, I mean wine not whine, although it is true that one can waste an inordinate amount of time whining (don’t point your finger at me; you do it too) (you know who you are).

It is Halloween afternoon and I am on my lunch break at work pondering the rest of the day. I have just written a lengthy post about a Mohawk Valley adventure Steven and I had yesterday. However, I will be in a time crunch from the moment I leave work till our earlyish bedtime (we rise at 3:30 tomorrow morning). It may be too many words to type in. Plus, I must look up a couple of things and edit, oh, and I might include some links. These “real” posts take time.

What I often end up doing in these situations is to snatch a few minutes to compose something really fast at the keyboard. It works for Lame Post Friday (which, of course, is today). However, I think it would save even more time if I only had to type something in and not have to think of it first.

I will also save time (here we come to the headline) if I forgo the wine tasting at Valley Wine and Liquor, which I could stop at on my way home after carefully running an errand to take up the time till four, when the wine tasting starts.

Hmmm, I just realized if I continue to dither about this now, as I feel inclined to do, there will be even more words to type in later. What’s a blogger to do? I could use a drink.

“A-apples and Cider!”

The main problem with writing about Fly Creek Cider Mill (and going to it, talking about it or even thinking about it, for that matter) is that the song from the commercial plays in my head for the next three hours. “A-apples and cider! At the Fly Creek Cider Mill!”

Some might say another problem is that I have written about the place several times before (too lazy to check how many and anyways I’d probably miss one). Well, I’ve said before and I’ll say again, I like to give another shout-out to a place I enjoy. Regarding the song, if I’ve given anybody an earworm, sorry. It goes away eventually.

Be all that as it may, Steven and I made yet another trip to the Fly Creek Cider Mill last Friday. It was quite enjoyable. As usual, I went around trying all the samples. Dips, sauces, jellies, mustard, salsa and fudge. Yum!

Of course we went into the tasting room to sample wine and hard cider. My favorite was the Mill Pond Reisling. Steven was fond of the Montezuma Winery Canvasback Red. It was $4 off three bottles, so we also got Diamond from Montezuma Winery, which I am pretty sure my mother will like. I found the taste reminiscent of Tickle Hill’s Suzy Q, one of her all-time favorites. It also had a very cool label.

After making our purchases, we went outside to visit the ducks. I was sorry I did not have a quarter to get some corn to feed them, especially when a bunch of them swam over hopefully. I could only find a couple pieces of corn on the ground. Usually I can find at least a handful that way (I always say, waste not, want not). I didn’t think the ducks looked too poorly fed, though, so I didn’t worry about it too much.

We always have a good time at the cider mill. We may even make another trip there before the year is out. The Fly Creek Cider Mill is located at 288 Goose St., Fly Creek, NY. Phone number is 607-547-9692. You can visit their website at www.flycreekcidermill.com, and you can Like them on Facebook.