Category Archives: personal

Tale of Two Tomatoes

Posted on August 9, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

So I sat at work realizing I had no topic for today’s blog post. I finally told myself I would just have to go home, do something, then write about it. Then I racked my brain for something to do. Then I thought I would save time later by writing now about what I intend to do.

I have two rather large tomatoes I purchased last week at a local farm stand. I intend to make a salad with them, utilizing, among other things, chives and basil growing in my lawn and container garden respectively.

The farm stand probably rates a blog post all its own. It’s in Herkimer, NY on the corner of German Street and Route 28. Unfortunately, I did not pick up a business card (if they had one) or even ask a name. Which was kind of silly of me, because I stood there and had a nice conversation with the lady, all about vitamin water, Gator Ade and staying hydrated in the heat.

I had meant to purchase one tomato for the specific purpose of putting it on some sandwiches I had abruptly planned for dinner that night, utilizing chicken salad and onion rolls which I obtained at Hannaford Deli and In-Store Bakery, respectively. I saw the farm stand as I was driving home and said, “Ooh!”

The tomatoes were sold in lots of three of four, and they were HUGE! We used one on sandwiches that night, the sandwiches we had Sunday night and the sandwich in my lunch on Tuesday (didn’t think of it on Monday; silly me). They were yummy! I LOVE farm stand tomatoes!

So for tonight’s salad, I will chop up the remaining two huge farm stand tomatoes. I will add a can of black beans (drained, rinsed and drained), which Steven is picking up for me at the store. I will chop some chives from the garden. I may slice a can of black olives, which I believe I have in the pantry. I may thaw some frozen corn and add that, if we have any. Oh, and some feta cheese, if Steven remembers to buy it along with the black beans. I will make dressing in the blender with oil, vinegar, garlic and fresh basil. Maybe some fresh dill as well. And perhaps some other non-fresh spices I usually have on hand.

How does that sound? I have not decided yet if I will make it before or after I type this in, so I may not be able to report results until tomorrow, if at all. I mean, if I have something more compelling to blog about, why bore on about tomatoes? Stay tuned.

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Neither Hide nor Hair of a Bear

Posted on August 8, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I think I’ve written about sitting on my sister-in-law Ruby’s deck before, but I thought I would mention in again, because it was one of the highlights of this past weekend in Vermont.

Ruby’s house is situated at the bottom of a wooded mountain. There is usually plenty of wildlife to observe. This visit, however, the area immediately surrounding the deck was eerily empty during the daytime. The reason was the absence of bird feeders.

Normally Ruby stocks three or four bird feeders, which attract a variety of our feathered friends along with an assortment of squirrels and chipmunks. Our dog, Tabby, is especially fond of chasing the squirrels. She’ll chase birds too, in a pinch, but Ruby would prefer she didn’t do that.

Unfortunately, the bird feeders also attract bears. One was even bold enough to come up on the deck and eat some of the cat food that was there. We’ve never seen a bear on any of our visits. I would be scared of a bear. I’ve read several Readers’ Digest Drama in Real Life stories about bear attacks. It is never good for the people involved.

Ruby’s bear has never bothered any people that we know of. After the deck incident, however, she emptied the bird feeders in hopes the bear would go elsewhere. It seems to be working, because we say neither hide nor hair of any bear.

After dark we did enjoy seeing a few foxes. Ruby threw out some cookies to entice them to come a little closer. Soon a fat raccoon appeared. He was not as shy and began hogging all the cookies. Ruby told us he usually does so.

I wanted to encourage the foxes to get some cookies. “Go, foxes,” I said. “Go! Go! Go!” Tabby, who had been nicely staying on the deck with us, thought I mean her and started for the stairs. We quickly called her back.

I’ll say this for dogs: they are very patient with what can only appear to be people’s inconsistency. We encourage her to chase squirrels but not birds or foxes. When we yell, “Go! Go! Go!” we usually mean her. But apparently not always. It turned out I had confused my dog to no purpose, because the raccoon got all the cookies anyways, the fat, greedy thing.

We enjoyed two nights of hanging out on the deck, taking in the scene. When we got ready to head for home on Sunday, I left Ruby some of Tabby’s food for the foxes (like the bear, Tabby preferred to eat the cats’ food). I suppose the raccoon will get it, but perhaps the foxes will at least get a nibble before he shows up. I hope Ruby is ready with the camera in case the bear returns.

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I Finally Get My Act Together

Posted on August 7, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Nobody really believes that, do they? Well, at least now maybe some people will believe I write fiction.

I was trying to do that thing I talked about last week of having a scheduled writing time and if I can’t seem to write to just sit here for the scheduled time anyways. Guess what I was mostly doing?

Oh, well, right now, obviously I’m writing. If this counts.

I thought maybe I shouldn’t do a Middle-aged Musings Monday because I took two days of Lame Post Friday last week. For another reason, I haven’t many musings to share. I just haven’t been musing much lately. All I can come up with is how when I was 20 I thought I’d have my act together when I was 30, and I think I’ve written about that before. Then again, it seems like three or four times a week I write about how I have nothing to write about, so obviously I’m not shy about repeating myself.

But apropos that, was is so great about having your act together? What does it even mean? In the ’70s there was a saying, “I finally got it all together and I forgot where I put it.” Do you personally know anybody that has their act together? And if so, is that a pleasant person to be around or is he or she just a little bit annoying? How many readers are out there right now with their nose in the air saying, “I have my act together, and I am not the least bit annoying.” Stop reading now! It will only lead to heartache! (Probably mine.)

I don’t really want anyone to stop reading, even if you do have or act together, or think you do.

Not everybody who thinks they have their act together actually does. I once spent a hideous two days with the most annoying soldier in the world (I have not met every soldier in the world and yet I say it with confidence). She said she wanted to meet the male PT (Physical Training) standards, because she didn’t want to be the girl holding up the unit because she couldn’t do everything the boys did. She said it snottier. Something like, “I’m not going to BE that soldier that somebody has to DO something for me.” (Have you ever noticed that when someone feels strongly about something, they don’t say, “I’m not going to do that.” They say, “I’m not going to BE that person.” I’ve done it myself. For some reason, it doesn’t annoy me when I do it.)

She voiced an admirable sentiment, I suppose. On the other hand, I’ve known plenty of female soldiers who made great contributions to their units without being able to do the same number of push-ups as some barrel-chested 19-year-old private.

Then annoying soldier realized she had locked her keys in her car, thus holding up me and two other NCOs as well as inconveniencing at least three or four civilians. I don’t think it ever occurred to her that this was the kind of shoddy lack of attention to detail that could have a highly detrimental effect on her unit.

I’m not saying I’m perfect, or even non-annoying. I’ve even locked my keys in the car on occasion. But I don’t brag on how high speed I am, never being a trouble to anyone (although apparently I feel free to brag on how I don’t brag; hey, did I not just say I’m not perfect?).

Maybe that is one definition of having your act together: not being a bother to others. Because you take care of your own shit. Well, let me be the first to point to myself and say, Act Not Together. Not even close. One could argue, however (there’s that argumentative One again), that we are put here to help one another. That sounds like a little half-baked philosophy suitable for Lame Post Friday. I will argue instead that one can strive to have bits and pieces of one’s act together on occasion. My current goal, therefore, is to get it together enough to have a real blog topic for tomorrow’s post. Stay tuned.

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On the Road in Vermont

Posted on August 6, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I went running twice this weekend while visiting family in Vermont (note to housebreakers: I’m HOME NOW, so don’t come to my house to break in).

Running in the rural section of Arlington, VT, where I stayed is not as comfortable for me as running in my beloved village of Herkimer, NY. For one thing, there were no sidewalks. There was not even a shoulder. Usually there was a little bit of a grassy edge I could move onto when a car approached. Most cars at least moved over a little, even if they didn’t slow down (a blessed few did both). I ran early in the morning, to avoid as much traffic as possible.

Saturday I ran out Ice Pond Road, which leads to Warm Brook Road. I saw the Ice Pond but not the Warm Brook. That run has the advantage of making a circle, at least for part of it. I still run out the road my sister-in-law’s house is on to Ice Pond Road, then back up that road after Warm Brook Road. But it’s not a complete out and back run. I used to do out and back runs all the time when I was in the army. I don’t know what my problem is with them now.

It is an odd thing (to me anyways, but I’m a New Yorker) that there are so many dead end roads in that area. We have this nice, long East Arlington Road and all along it are all these short little roads that don’t go anywhere but have houses on them. I suppose I could do a Dead End Run like I did on German Street in Herkimer once (I believe I wrote a blog post about it). Maybe next visit.

I did run one dead end on Saturday. It did not have one of those helpful signs saying “Dead End” or “No Outlet.” I had never been on that road. I decided to check it out. Dead end. I was almost at the end when a dog in a backyard started barking at me, so I turned around and ran back out.

Sunday I decided to do an out and back run, because I wanted to head in the other direction and knew I had no non-dead-end roads to turn down. But there was a covered bridge. I thought it would be nice to run over a covered bridge while visiting Vermont.

The bridge has a sign I’ve seen on many covered bridges: “One Dollar Fine for driving faster than a walk on this bridge.” Well, that’s for driving, I thought, not running. Anyways, sadly, my run is not much faster than a walk. Also, there was nobody there to collect a fine. I ran across.

I saw a sign for a private road. I see that a lot in Vermont. The sign looks exactly like a public street sign but says “Pvt” after the name of the road. I wanted to run down the road, knock on the door and say, “It’s your DRIVEWAY! Get over yourself!” I am unlikely to do any such a thing. I’m afraid I would become a victim of Private Road Rage.

I admired some rather magnificent houses as I went by. Some of them looked new and quite expensive. Then I saw one that was more my speed. There were four tractors, a tractor trailer cab and several pick-ups and cars in various states of road-worthiness. The front yard had decorations I enjoyed. A bat hung from a tree, as did a wind chime. A large spider was on a rock leaned against another tree. A leprechaun smiled from under a rock; a deer lounged next to the spider rock. Under a tree at the end of the yard I saw some chickens and a puppy. The biggest chicken was bigger than the puppy. It was a house with character. I admired it again on my way back.

As I got closer to the end of my run, I saw a lump that may have been a sleeping dog. I let it lie, as they say you are supposed to do. Another dog at that house, a gorgeous retriever-looking pooch, barked at me. I was almost back at my sister-in-law’s house by then.

Both runs had a couple of minor hills. Nothing to compare with what I like to run in Herkimer. I didn’t mind that, but by the end of the run I was really missing the spring. I reasoned with myself that the run was not so long as to make it really necessary to have a drink during. I had a bottle waiting for me at the end.

They were not bad runs. The temperature both days was reasonable, but humidity was high. I ended both runs stinky but glad I had run. I’ll be glad to get back to running at home, though.

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On the Road to Vermont

Posted on August 5, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I like to write posts about driving somewhere. My only concern is to not tell the same things when I’m writing about the same route I’ve been over before. Then again, it’s been over a year since I’ve been to Vermont. Maybe if I do repeat myself nobody will notice. Here’s hoping

Steven picked me up at my place of employment in Ilion and we left from there, so right away it was a little different. Usually I go home first and shower and make my blog post, so we don’t leave till closer to five. This got us on the road almost an hour and a half sooner. Woohoo! As we drove through Mohawk I further suggested we go down Route 5S to Little Falls rather than our usual State Route 5 through Herkimer. This brought us alongside a canal path we’ve walked and I’ve run along, and by Herkimer County Humane Society, site of at least a couple of good blog posts (or do I flatter myself?). It’s a nice country road, and I admired several houses, although I don’t think I’d like to live right on a highway like that.

Soon we were in Little Falls. After one wrong turn (Little Falls can be a little confusing), we were on our way out of Little Falls and on the familiar road to Vermont. We passed Nellis Tavern, where we attended a rhubarb festival. Yum! Must plant some rhubarb next year. I love looking at the mountains. I don’t mind the twisty roads a bit, even if I am the one driving (I was not in this case; I was free to make observations and silly jokes).

At one point there were three cars ahead of us and they all turned left.

“Oh, they’re all turning,” Steven remarked.

“They’re probably going to a party we’re not invited to,” I complained. Sure enough, as we drove by we saw a handpainted sign on a tree, “Hunter’s Party.” It was true! Those bastards WERE going to party and I WASN’T invited! “What the hell, Hunter?” I demanded. Of course, I don’t know anyone named Hunter. For all I know it was a hunters’ party and the person who made the sign had put the apostrophe in the wrong place.

Eventually we got to Saratoga, often a tricky place to drive through, due to heavy pedestrian and vehicular traffic. I’ve always wanted to spend some time there.

“I love Saratoga,” I said. “It is so cool looking.” Three red lights later I said, “I hate Saratoga! There are too many traffic lights!” Steven laughed.

Outside of town I saw a sign at an intersection advertising a new queen-sized mattress for sale. A few miles later at a stop light we saw a pick up truck with a matress and box spring in the back. I speculated it was the one advertised, but I suppose we will never know.

I enjoyed my drive to Vermont, and I must say, leaving earlier is the Way to Go. I didn’t feel nearly as tired when we arrived and it was still early enough to enjoy a chicken barbecue (which I may blog about tomorrow) as well as time on the deck with my sisters-in-law.

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Second Verse, Same as the First

Posted on August 3, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

This is the second half of the post I started Thursday. I basically sat during the breaks at work and wrote whatever came to mind. That, of course, is what I usually do on Lame Post Friday.

I went through and typed in the best bits for Thursday’s post. I must say, I was having a harder time writing it than I normally do. Could it be because I was trying to do a Friday Lame Post on a Thursday? We may never know.

I’ve been reading a book about writing (I admit it: I read about writing more than I actually write): I’d Rather Be Writing by Marcia Golub (Writer’s Digest Books, Cincinnati, OH, 1999). Golub says you should schedule yourself time to write every day, say a half hour. If you sit there for a half hour and don’t write much, that’s OK. You still sit there and when your half hour is up you are free to do something else and Not Feel Guilty (yes, I had to capitalize it).

I write this because I was sitting here looking at a blank page and it was very detrimental to my self-esteem (I have a delicate self-esteem). But could sitting staring at a blank page be productive in some perverse way? Golub isn’t the only person to say this. Many writers say you have your scheduled time even if you just sit there. This is in fact my scheduled break, not my scheduled writing time. I don’t have a scheduled writing time. Perhaps that is part of my problem (I imagine there are many parts and/or I have a lot of problems).

One could argue (I don’t know who one is, but he or she is apparently capable of infinite argument) that my scheduled break time is my scheduled writing time. Well, all I can say is, perhaps it should be, because I had meant to spend my break chatting with my husband via cell phone. I had planned to write at noon.

And now it is noon (time lapse is so awkward in the written word), my regularly scheduled writing time (from now on). And I got nuthin’ but the feeling that I am trying to get away with entirely too many lame posts.

That is about as far as I got in the blog on my lunch. I would like to report, though, that the time was not wasted. I turned to a different page of my notebook and wrote a few more paragraphs on my novel. Then to two different pages yet and wrote some more dialogue on two different scenes for a murder mystery I’m writing. So maybe this schedule thing works. I’ll let you know.

In the meantime, I’m over 400 words. Respectable if lame. Happy Friday, everyone.

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Two-Lame Highway

Posted on August 3, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Or is it Too Lame? You decide. Regular readers (hi, Mom!) know I have been struggling for blog topics this week. Of course I haven’t worried about Friday, because, you know, Lame Post Friday: Random Observations and Half-Baked Philosophy. Well, I intend to write my Friday post on Thursday (today), because I will be pressed for time on Friday. So I thought, I’ll just write a marathon lame post, type it all in, divide it in half and voila! Two posts for the price of one! Is that cheating? NO!!! This is my blog! I make up the rules (usually as I go along)!

That was a longish introduction to an admittedly lame post (random observation #1?). Speaking of introductions, here’s an oxymoron (my favorite kind of moron): the MC who introduces somebody “who needs no introduction.”

The other day when I was running, a car drove by me with a dog sitting on the driver’s lap. At least, I couldn’t see the driver. The dog could have been driving the car, which is not the same thing as the inmates running the asylum. It was a cute dog.

Whenever I write a running post I always think later, “I didn’t even say anything about…” or “I forgot to mention…” Then again, my running posts tend to run longer than my actual runs, so I suppose that is all right.

It is a well-known fact that if you think too much about what you are going to write, when you finally sit down to write, you will not be able to pen a single word. But I say if you don’t think enough about what you are going to write, you may not be able to write either. Or what you do write will be self-indulgent nonsense. Um, yeah, kind of like my lame posts. Where was I going with this?

On an unrelated side note: I may not be going away this weekend and if I do go away, my house will not be left unoccupied, unobserved, unguarded, unprotected. And even if it was, I have nothing worth stealing. So if any unscrupulous people troll blog posts looking for people who are going away in order to rob their houses, don’t bother. And if you don’t believe me and do bother, clean the place up while you’re there. You know, do the dishes, scrub the toilet. Maybe clean out the refrigerator. You can just throw away anything growing fur. Don’t forget to take the trash out. (Is that as good a deterrent as, “I’m home cleaning my guns and training my vicious guard dogs with my good friend the Chief of Police”?)

An observation related to the side note: people are often on Facebook “checking in” places. In other words, advertising they’re not home. My sister’s answering machine at one point said, “We’re not home; leave a message.” I gave her a stern talking to about security. My niece’s response (and for some reason I never suspected this niece of having such a fine sense of sarcasm) was to change the message to, “We’re not home and the door’s unlocked.” I think they have one of those generic ones that come with the machine now. I don’t call my sisters very often. Shall I go into some half-baked philosophy about appreciating family? I think not.

That reminds me of my favorite intellectual joke. The waiter asks Descartes if he’s ready to order. Descartes says, “I think not,” and vanishes in a puff of logic.

And on that note, I sign off, looking forward to Friday, which is sooner than you may think.

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Short, Easy Walk

Posted on August 2, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

So yesterday I ran after work so I could write my blog post about my run. Today on the way home from work I saw a few flashes of lightning, so I used that as my excuse not to run. It didn’t amount to much, but by the time I knew that I had already showered (I was REALLY stinky after work). What to write my post about? Then I remembered I was going to sent a postcard to a cousin, so thought I would write the card, walk with Tabby to the post office, and write about that. I used to do pedestrian posts all the time. Nobody seemed to mind.

I found a lovely Vermont postcard with bright red trees surrounding a barn. Steven and I plan a trip to Vermont this weekend (preview of coming attractions), so it seemed appropriate. I wrote a message I thought might possibly be legible (no promises there, but at least she can look at the picture) and started looking for my sneakers.

As soon as Tabby saw the sneakers she got excited. Actually, she’s pretty smart so she may even have been excited when she saw me writing the post card. Steven graciously agreed to accompany us.

The temperature had cooled. I guiltily realized it was a good running temperature, but I just don’t feel I want to shower twice in less than two hours. Anyways, walking is good exercise.

We noticed a house for sale that has been for sale before. I wondered if the people who bought it didn’t like it or were house flippers, or even if it had never been sold but just taken off the market so it could later masquerade as a new listing. I read someplace that that is a realtors’ trick.

The post office was closed, but we put the post card in the box outside and felt virtuous about it. We continued down Park Avenue (no, not that Park Avenue). I saw a girl running.

“Good job!” I said. “I was supposed to do that.”

“Thanks,” she said.

Half a block later we saw four people running.

“Now I want you to go catch that girl,” I told them.

“It’ll never happen!” one lady said.

“She’s too fast!” said another.

Half a block later I saw three more runners. One ran up an alley behind a building, but the other two continued towards us.

“Is it a club?” I asked, but nobody answered.

Later on in the walk some pedestrians were walking towards us. Tabby trotted ahead eagerly. She always wants to meet new people. She thinks everybody wants to pet a cute doggy. These people didn’t, though. I said hello. One man greeted me back, but the rest just walked on.

By the time we finished I realized that the humidity was still high, because I felt pretty sweaty for a short easy walk. I hoped that between the runners and walkers I had enough material for a decent blog post. I guess you’ll be the judge. Just to warn you, I am similarly low on ideas for tomorrow’s post. But perhaps inspiration will strike. I hope you’ll stay tuned.

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Wicking Run

Posted on August 1, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Yesterday (Monday) I neither ran nor did anything else blogworthy. Today I thought it would be a good idea to run and write a post about that.

It was about the only thing that motivated me. Monday afternoon was very warm, but Tuesday was supposed to be better. LIES! What sacks those meteorologists are! (um, that’s short for “lying sacks of shit,” but I didn’t want to use that entire vulgar expression) (oops) (Now I’m getting silly)

I was looking around for a sufficiently large shirt to run in when I noticed a running shirt I almost never wear. It is an actual running shirt which I got it when I ran a 5K in Oneida year before last. It’s that “wicking” material that’s supposed to pull the sweat away from your body for a more comfortable run. It is a medium, which is the size I suppose I actually take. I usually wear a large, sometimes with a couple of X’s. I like a baggy shirt, especially when I run. But I thought, “Wicking material may obviate the need for bagginess. I’ll try it!” I didn’t think bicycle shorts would look as good with a non-baggy shirt, so I looked for my army shorts, with the built in underwear. But they’re black, and I don’t like to wear black things when it’s sunny. I found my swim shorts (yes, girl swim shorts; they do make those things). I found my headband (also of wicking material) and I was on my way!

Right away I felt that baggy was better than wicking. However, with shorts, baggy is not better. The bagginess rides up your crotch in a most uncomfortable fashion. My body was not loving me. I felt awkward. I felt slow. I felt as if I had not run a step ever in my life and was I sure this was really how to do it.

Regular readers (if any) know I recently took four days off and regretted it. Well after Thursday I ran both Saturday and Sunday. Yes I missed Friday and Monday, but still. So there I was, put-putting along, wondering what in the hell was wrong with me. Feeling quite certain I was not up to any hills.

I saw a cute little dog across the street. I wondered at first if it was my friend Nicky. Then I saw it was not. Similar color dog, wrong person. Still, that lady might let me pet her dog, if I could cross the street. That would put me on the proper side of German to run one of several hills. The lady and dog walked up a driveway and out of my sight. I crossed the street anyways. I thought I could handle the unknown park (someday I will learn that park’s name and I will be very disappointed to stop calling it the unknown park).

As I got closer to the park, I questioned my choice. The park would be shady, but wouldn’t it be even more humid amongst the trees? Wouldn’t there be lots of bugs, especially on the path through the woods? I looked up ahead and saw the sidewalk stretching out under bright sunshine. Humidity in the bright sunlight or humidity in the shade? I turned into the park.

First I saw a work truck and wondered if somebody was, you know, working. Then I heard the construction vehicles. Oh dear, what was I running into? It seemed to take a long time to get up the little hill into the park and around the corner to where I could see three large machines that seemed to be moving around vast piles of dirt in what I thought was a parking lot.

I didn’t think they would mind if I just ran past them. I wouldn’t get in their way. One back hoe (I guess it was a back hoe; I don’t know from construction vehicles) was scooping dirt, backing up, dumping it in a pile, kind of near the edge of the parking lot I was about to run by. I ran on the other side of the road. That put me on right side, with traffic, and you know how I feel about that (if you don’t know I’ll tell you: I hate it! I don’t do it! I don’t want other people to do it! I wrote a blog post about it once). Still, there was no traffic.

I got back onto the left side when I was past them. Soon I would be into the shady part and on to the path through the woods. A car drove by me. Did I say there was no traffic? Well, I was back on the left side now.

I saw some boys with rifles up ahead. A car was parked on my side of the road with a lady in the driver’s seat. I couldn’t tell if they were BB guns or paintball guns or what. I put my hands up and said, “Don’t shoot!” just to be silly. The lady in the car just shook her head, and one of the boys said, “Hold your fire,” so that was all right.

Soon I was on the path in the woods. It was cooler surrounded by greenery, and the humidity wasn’t as bad. Sweat was still dripping down my face. I guess it would have taken quite a breeze to dry that much sweat.

When I got to the end of the path I thought briefly about running the rest of the way up to the college. Then laughed at myself for even suggesting such a thing. I ran down the road and back home. That took long enough.

By the time I was headed back down German, almost to my street, I realized the shirt and shorts had ceased to bother me. My legs no longer felt like alien appendages. I can’t say I felt good, but I felt like, hey, I did it. I ran. My weight loss goals remain within reach. My plan to run the DARE 5K is still a good one. Wait a minute, I guess I can say I felt good.

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Too Beat to Blog

Posted on July 30, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Last night Steven and I drove into Rome to meet some people I graduated high school with, roughly a hundred years ago.

It was not the official class reunion. That was last year and I missed it due to the DARE 5K. A classmate who is living overseas was coming to town and asked on the class Facebook page did anybody want to get together.

A select group met at the Savoy. We had a great time. Now, last Sunday I said I was too tired to write a proper blog post, and at the end of the post, Steven told me it was so a proper post. That will not be the case this week. I am really truly too tired to write a proper blog post.

I could do my Middle-aged Musings Monday a day early and lament how I am just too old to party like it’s 1999 (no, I’m not pretending I graduated in 1999, I’m quoting a Prince song) (as a matter of fact, I think I partied more in 1999 than I did in 1981; I was a pretty innocent teenager) (Stop laughing! It’s true!).

I did get out and go running this morning and took Tabby for a short walk a little later (in addition to our usual post-run cool down walk). So I was not completely ate up. I don’t feel I should write about my run, though, because that would make three running posts in a row. And the walk with Tabby was strictly uneventful.

So here we have it: yet another post about Why I Can’t Write a Blog Post Today. I can’t keep doing this! People will get disgusted and stop reading me. I have to admit, though, these silly posts are kind of fun to write. It is comforting when I feel that I can’t possibly pick up a pen to find that I actually can make words on a piece of paper (or directly on a computer screen in some cases).

I am over 400 posts now, all on consecutive days (although WordPress sometimes dates two on the same day and skips a day; go figure). That is more than four hundred days of writing every day. That makes me feel pretty damn good. Now I just have to work on writing something worth reading. Here’s hoping you’ll stay tuned.

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