Category Archives: personal

Post Show Run

Subtitle: Mohawk Valley Girl Learns to Like the Young Kids’ Music.

Last night was opening night of Harvey at Ilion Little Theatre (I may have mentioned that once or twice). I didn’t get to bed till almost midnight. Still, it was Saturday and I was determined to run.

I ate a banana with peanut butter shortly before my run, because I was quite hungry. Normally if I eat I like to wait at least an hour, but I seemed to remember reading somewhere that a small nutritious snack was a good thing before a run. No time to look up how long before a run the snack was supposed to be, so I just waited a short time and hoped for the best.

The temperature warm, but a nice breeze was blowing. Traffic was not severe. Things looked good. I decided to run up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the back way. I’ll just mention that the only day I had run since Sunday was Thursday, when we did not have rehearsal. I ran a half hour, at varying distances from the ice cream truck, usually close enough to hear the music. When I wasn’t close enough the music played in my head. I was actually close enough to buy ice cream when I walked my cool down with Tabby, but providentially did not have any cash.

I was out at pre-ice cream truck time Saturday. I crossed German Street with no problem and headed up the hill. I looked as usual at the pretty little stream running downhill (as of course streams do). I thought that it really wasn’t a stream to run by. It looked like I ought to be sitting by it, maybe soaking my feet in the nice cold running water. My feet hurt all the time lately. Must make my way to the Sneaker Store in New Hartford for some new running shoes.

When I got up to the college I could hear music. What was that all about? As I continued up the road by the reservoir, the music got louder. Where was it coming from? Somebody in the dormitory partying hearty really early? Somebody’s car stereo out of control? I saw several cars in the gym parking lot. I saw a young man walking along. Was it his I-pod thingy? Do I-pods get that loud? I don’t know from I-pods, but I’m sure they don’t. It sounded more like a stereo system.

As I got closer to the athletic fields I could tell the music was coming from there. I’m not really a fan of a lot of the popular music these days. At least, I almost never listen to it, so I’m not familiar. I certainly don’t like the hip hop stuff, which I find tuneless. I think a lot of the more tuneful stuff is overproduced. The voices seem doctored and the instrumentals smoothed out, if you know what I mean. I guess it’s the ultimate expression of Phil Specter’s Wall of Sound. I’m not knowledgeable enough to express myself properly, so I don’t know if anybody knows what I mean. In any case, I sometimes think the 21st century is too in love with technology.

Of course, one of my favorite sayings is “To each his how, as the old lady said when she kissed the cow.” I felt sure that whoever was playing a sport up ahead was liking the music. I had to admit, it had a forward moving beat that was conducive to athletic effort. I found myself pounding along in the “I can rock this” stage of my run that I so enjoy.

I ran closer to the field and saw people playing lacrosse. The banks on the side of the field obstructed my view, so I kept running. I ran into the little veterans’ park. I must go there with a notebook and write down the different organizations that contributed to it. It is just a little area, a mere few steps around as I ran in and out. I wondered if somebody would say, “That is not a place to run in, have a little respect!” Well, I do have respect. And since I learned to run, and to love running, in the army, I think it is entirely appropriate to run through a veterans’ park.

A sign informed me that a lacrosse tournament was in progress. If I didn’t have show to rest up for, I might go watch some. I learned on the Sports Box that HCCC is quite the powerhouse in their conference. I must catch some games. The Sports Box, in case you didn’t know, is a show on WVHC, 91.5fm, the college radio station. I’m not into sports, but I love listening to those guys.

I continued around the sports building. The music was growing on me. Good running tunes! This is why people run with those ear phones! The only thing I would have liked better would have been if they played that tune my sister likes that starts, “Every day I’m shuffling.” It took me a long time to get out of earshot of the music, because it was really quite loud. By then I was headed downhill and life was sweet.

It was a great run. Toward the end I even lengthened my stride and went for that loping run I see the young kids doing. I didn’t do too bad. I think I may have finally reached the “I love running!” stage of my training. Boilermaker, here I come!

Lame Jitters

I don’t see why I should not devote a Friday Lame Post to talking about how nervous I am about opening night.

As I write this I realize a few things. For starters, this could go either way. By writing about my nervousness I could get it out of my system. I’ll feel calm, confident and collected. Or not. Reiterating my feelings and the reasons for them might reinforce their validity. Of course I’m nervous! Why shouldn’t I be nervous? I should be even MORE nervous!

Before my wrist reaches my forehead and my more sarcastic readers (you know who you are) get out those miniature violins, I take a deep breath and realize I have not taken a deep breath recently. Ah! The other thing I realize is that spending 300 or more words talking about me being nervous could get a little boring (me boring? Say it ain’t so!).

Still, it is opening night, and I am pretty obsessed by the play (Harvey at Ilion Little Theatre, for those of you just tuning in). I would actually prefer to be going over my lines right now. Only I don’t want to be composing at the keyboard later. It is much quicker and less nerve-wracking to type in something already written (I’ll just mention that I wrote the preceding in my little spiral notebook before beginning work this morning). Obviously my nerves need all the help they can get.

So now I have typed in all I managed to write earlier and am composing at the keyboard, as I had hoped to avoid. I spent the rest of the day at work being nervous, singing the song from the Bugs Bunny Show that starts “Overture! Curtain, lights!”, and, you know, actually working. Sometimes I did two or all three of those at once.

I left work and drove to Hannaford to buy snacks for the dressing room. I like to nibble a little and it’s rude not to bring enough to share. I went healthy with grapes and pretzel sticks. OK, pretzel sticks aren’t really a health food, but at least they’re non-fat. I’ve taken my shower and am waiting for my hair to dry so I attempt to style it.

I’ve written over 300 words. I hope it has not been too boring. I’ll just mention, it went the second way. I’m really nervous.

Tabby Goes Visiting

What with my All Harvey All the Time lifestyle these days, I feel I have been neglecting my dog, Tabby. So Wednesday, I was determined to take her for a real walk.

For those animal lovers out there exclaiming in horror, “But you MUST walk your dog every day!” I know. But Tabby gets exercise, because we let her run around in the backyard several times a day and we indulge her in a few rousing games of That’s My Treat. And I only missed two days of walking her, because we went for long walks both weekend days (actually, one of those walks might have made a good post, because I pointed out to Tracy many spots of historical or cultural interest). Yes, I feel guilty.

Be that as it may, Tabby was ecstatically happy when I got out the leash. Dogs have such capacity for happiness, it is really inexcusable not to take a little time to make a dog happy. I left on my BDU pants from work (that’s my army camouflage pants, for you civilians) and found my crazy old lady hat. Might as well be a crazy old lady when you get the chance.

Since the walk was to make up for me neglecting Tabby, I let her pull me her favorite way, to Herkimer’s Historic Four Corners. Then she wanted to cross Main Street, so we did. She pulled me to our church, Christ Episcopal, then right to the back door, which she jumped at, asking to go in. I started to tell her there was nobody there to pet her when I noticed a light was on. I also noticed a sign advertising a rummage sale Thursday, Friday and Saturday.

The door was unlocked, so we went in to find a lady we know setting up for the sale. She and I had a nice chat, and she and her kids petted Tabby. The youngest, a mere toddler, was especially taken with her. He kept laughing delightedly.

We continued our walk down Main Street. Tabby wanted to go into Smoker’s Friendly. When we only had one vehicle, Steven was in the habit of walking Tabby to Smoker’s Friendly almost every day, to feed his unhealthy habit. We still walk there on occasion (just a little multi-tasking). A man sitting at the table enjoying a cigarette petted Tabby. I explained that my husband often brought her there, so she liked to say hello.

We were able to cross Main Street a little further down, not always an easy task. Cars do not respect cross walks, which in any case could use a new coat of paint. A young man standing in front of the tattoo place asked me if Tabby was part poodle (how remiss of me that I can’t tell you the business’ name). I explained schnoodle — schnauzer/poodle, and he petted her. She was not as cordial with him as she usually is. He said it was probably the hat. It was an ordinary knitted affair, such as I wear myself on occasion, but who knows? Maybe it was the way he wore it. We walked on.

Next, Tabby wanted to go into Hummel’s Office Plus. The clerk, a particular friend of Tabby’s, came out from behind the counter to pet her. There were no customers at the time. I don’t want you to think I let my dog disrupt a local business.

As we headed home through Myers Park we encountered a dog tied to a bench his people were sitting on. When he saw Tabby he pulled at his leash and made a noise like he really wanted to bark. Tabby looked at him with some interest but kept quiet and kept walking. I told her that she was a good girl, that I knew she wanted to make a friend but we had to keep walking. I actually didn’t know if she wanted to make a friend or not. Sometimes Tabby is funny with other dogs.

I think Tabby enjoyed her walk. We visited three places, and she was petted by several people. Not bad for a half hour.

All Harvey and a Short Post

All Harvey All The Time — it’s not just my blog, it’s my life these days.

I work, I go home, I must positively must have coffee. For one thing, it lets me sit down for a few minutes. I have lists of everything I am supposed to remember. Sometimes I remember to consult the lists. Usually, though, I just run around stuffing things in bags and feeling like I forgot something. Then I arrive at rehearsal feeling flustered. Which should help with my character. One would think.

Our last couple of rehearsals have gone very well. Last night (Tuesday) we set the curtain call. I am one of the last characters to go out and bow, and I get to bow all by myself. Scary! What if they boo? An unlikely contingency, I suppose. I will at least get a few polite claps. I have to stand next to a character that my character doesn’t like. Another cast member told me I should give him a dirty look. I give him a lot of dirty looks during the play. I should perhaps mention (or perhaps I don’t have to) that offstage the guy is one of my favorite people and a real sweetheart.

The subject of my reviewing the play in this blog came up in the dressing room. After all, I’ve reviewed other shows Ilion Little Theatre has done (if you can count my unqualified raves as reviews) (hey, Mohawk Valley Girl is a booster, not a critic). I don’t see why I shouldn’t brag on a play I’m in. I can heap praise on my fellow actors and lightly pass over my own performance with a modest clearing of the throat. That may comprise Saturday’s post.

Once again, Harvey is presented by Ilion Little Theatre May 4, 5, 6, 10, 11 and 12; curtain time is 8 p.m. except for Sunday May 6 at 2 p.m. For more information go to http://www.ilionlittletheatre.org or the Ilion Little Theatre Club’s facebook page.

Out of Adjectives

It’s no use. For at least the next week this blog is either going to be All Harvey All The Time or post after post of me writing about the fact that I’m not writing (the irony is not lost on me).

I even had a great Mohawk Valley topic. Saturday night Tracy dragged us to Holland Patent to see the most wonderful folk concert. Jam Crackers was performing at a coffee house at the First Presbyterian Church on Park Street. The group consists of Dan Berggren, Peggy Lynn and Dan Duggan.

Oh are they ever good! I literally had tears in my eyes because the harmony was so beautiful, especially when they sung a cappella (my computer is telling me that is misspelled, but I looked in the dictionary). The instrumentals were incredible, too. Steven and I knew of Dan Duggan’s skill on the hammered dulcimer; we have not one but two Christmas CDs by him. Peggy played the concertina, or squeeze box, as I thought it was called. They also played guitar, as did Dan Berggren.

What a voice Peggy has! She can do folk, gospel, blues and look like she’s having a wonderful time doing it. Dan Berggren has a beautiful bass voice. I loved the lyrics on the songs he wrote.

I’m really out of adjectives to describe these folks, so I guess it’s just as well I’m not doing a blog post on the concert. I would probably also run out of adjectives to describe the yummy pies that were available at intermission (well maybe “yummy” is all I really need).

I see I’m over 200 words. Not a great blog post but respectable. And I guess it’s just as well to keep the non-great posts short. I have to go get ready for my Harvey rehearsal.

I thought of the title for this after I wrote it. Now I think I should write a better blog post to go with that title. Perhaps another day.

Bringing a Friend to the Farmer’s Market

Saturday our friend Tracy visited. Steven had to work during the day, but Tracy was sure that I would drag her along to Mohawk Valley things (that is how Steven said she put it when he talked to her). I was happy to oblige.

I’m always delighted to introduce people to the Ilion Farmer’s Market at Clapsaddle Farm, Otsego Street, Ilion, NY. I especially looked forward to bringing Tracy there, because I knew she would enjoy it.

She loved the old barn that houses the market. As soon as we walked in we noticed two young pigs. Somebody told us that last week they had goats (oh sure, the one week I don’t go!). The live animals were a new thing for me. The kids were really enjoying them, but I like to see them too.

My main reason for going to the Farmer’s Market was to purchase a couple of fancy handkerchiefs from the antique booth. I thought my character in Harvey might carry just such a handkerchief, as opposed to the plain white or army brown ones I carry myself. I chatted with the lady at the booth about Ilion Little Theatre and the play (I did say I was going to make this blog All Harvey All The Time for the next two weeks, didn’t I?). After much deliberation I selected a pink handkerchief with embroidery and a white one with scalloped lavender trim. I thought it would be a good idea to get two, for ease of laundering. The lady gave me a discount, because it was for Ilion Little Theatre. One great thing about this area: people really support community endeavors.

Tracy and I sampled some fudge, cheese and wine. The wine was from Domnhall Winery in Herkimer. They intend to open a tasting room sometime this year. You can bet Mohawk Valley Girl will be there.

We got into a conversation with one lady about farming, fresh eggs, and quilting. Tracy had a lengthy discussion with Jim Parker about the Amish. Jim Parker is, as I have no doubt mentioned before, the folk artist who runs the Farmer’s Market. Steven and I often chat him up when we are there. Jim teaches art to Amish children, among others. He mentioned the different venues where he has taught, but of course I neglected to write them all down. I’ll have to go back with my notebook and do a real write up about it.

We talked about art as therapy and about the diversity of some of his classes and how valuable that was to the students. Jim also told us some stories about some Amish children who deliver goods to the Farmer’s Market. Tracy was especially interested in the Amish stories, because she is involved in a project with TAUNY making a display about the Amish in New York State. I mean to find out more about that (including what TAUNY stands for). I think it is an excellent topic for Mohawk Valley Girl.

We had a great time at the Farmer’s Market. I left with a bottle of wine, two handkerchiefs and several ideas for future blog posts. Tracy left with plans to return. That’s how I get my friends to visit more than once.

The Play’s the Thing

Ah what a weekend I had. And I feel utterly incapable of writing a blog post about it.

I mentioned going All Boilermaker All The Time after the play. I can’t help thinking that until the play I ought to go All Harvey All The Time.

That said, I’m not sure what to write about Harvey at this time. I’ve written about working on the set (I was no help). I’ve given a bare bones plot summary (not very definitive). I’ve given dates and times (May 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 12; at 8 p.m. except Sunday May 6 at 2) and location (The Stables, Remington Avenue, Ilion, NY). For those details you can also go to the web site, http://www.ilionlittletheatre.org or Ilion Little Theatre Club’s Facebook page.

This being a personal blog, I suppose it would be legitimate for me to write about the difficulty I’ve had learning lines, my lack of self-confidence, my stress levels — in short all the angst or, dare I say, drama that comes from being in a play. But who wants to read about that? I don’t even want to write about it. I’m still pretending that it’s been a breeze to learn lines, that I exude self-confidence; stress, what’s that?

Rehearsals are going pretty well. The set looks better every day. I’m pretty impressed with the set. Ilion Little Theatre stage is not that big, and there is not a lot of space back stage. It’s not easy to do a play with two completely different sets. The last play that needed more than one setting, Old Ladies’ Guide to Survival, accomplished it by utilizing the space in front of the closed curtain. This time the problem has been solved by… but I’ll wait, and let the audience be surprised.

And that’s the problem with talking about these things ahead of time. When I am in the audience, I like to be surprised. I don’t want to sit there thinking, “Oh, this must be the part where X does Y.” So I find it difficult to say too much. But perhaps you have seen the movie numerous times and have attended other productions of the play. Perhaps you can recite some of the lines along with the cast. If that is the case, well, you don’t need me to say much about it. And I think you will enjoy our production. Come see us.

Only two more weeks till Harvey, just over two months till the Boilermaker, then I can be back to my Mohawk Valley Girl Ways.

Was That a Training Run?

I shall do my favorite Saturday thing of writing a post about this morning’s run. Perhaps I should warn my readers (if any) that after the play is over (Harvey at Ilion Little Theatre, etc.), my blog may be about All Boilermaker All The Time. I have to train! I’m getting nervous!

Actually, I say I am training for the Boilermaker, but it doesn’t really feel as if I’m training. For one thing, I have no real clear idea of how to train, other than the increase by 10 percent each week thing advised by the guys at the Sneaker Store. I just go running. I write down what I run in a little book. I try to do better as time goes on. Is that training? I suppose I ought to know these things, but heavens, I can’t know everything.

Be that as it may, I ran early, as I like to do. Actually, by 7:30 a.m. on a weekday I would have been at work, worked and had a break already. On a Saturday, I had coffee, read the paper and played solitaire. I set out before I got too hungry and ate, then would have to wait for my food to digest.

The thermometer in my house said 35 degrees, so I put on leggings and my long-sleeved ARMY t-shirt. Winter running socks, which have the advantage that they are long enough to cover the bottoms of the leggings. I hate that little strip of ankle that gets exposed when the two don’t meet. Headband to cover my ears. The sleeves of the t-shirt are long enough to pull down over my hands. I was set.

For the first few minutes I regretted that I had not worn a sweatshirt as well. For the entire run, I wished I had brought a handkerchief or tissue. I spent a good portion of the time pondering the wording of a Facebook post about how my nose ran more than my body. Never came up with anything good.

I ran up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the back way. My body told me don’t do it, but as usual I did not listen. The only downside, really, was that the road is so shaded. I was really appreciating the sun this morning. I thought ahead to July and August, when I will be loving the shade. No matter. My body soon heated itself by effort. Only my nose was still cold.

When I got up to the college, I continued on up Reservoir Road. That meant I was still going uphill, so I could feel virtuous about that. I saw a little beach ball in a ditch. It looked like one of those promotional giveaways. I like a little beach ball. I stopped to pick it up, wondering how awkward it would be to carry a little beach ball for the rest of my run. It was too awkwardly placed to get without major effort, so I gave it up and kept running.

I saw two girls getting out of vehicles in the gymnasium parking lot. One of them made a noisy yawn, or maybe it was an oh-my-back groan. I reflected that it was an unconscionably early hour for many people. Not for us factory workers. I felt virtuous again.

HCCC is a beautiful campus. I like to run around it. I think how I would like to work there, but they never hired me or even called me for an interview. I daresay I lack the right qualifications. Well, I like the job I have now anyways. So there.

I ran down the front way, very steep. A truck came up, and the driver nicely slowed down and moved over partway into the other lane. I waved a thank you, and he waved back. Then two cars zinged by and I don’t think the drivers were paying the slightest bit of attention. Luckily it is a wide shoulder.

I ran by the high school, which I usually save for Sunday. There are often things going on at a high school on a Saturday. Today there were no cars out front. A couple drove into the lot and around the back, but I didn’t get in their way so that was OK.

I ran over the footbridge spanning the stream, which brought me to the parking lot slash road where I often find coins. Dropped by careless people or left by the angels to encourage me? Could be both. I saw a guy playing basketball. Would I feel silly stooping to pick up dropped coins with a basketball player as witness? It did not arise, as there were no coins. Did the angels think I need no encouragement? Maybe the basketball guy picked up any coins. Maybe he needed the encouragement. I ran on.

I did reach the “I can rock this” stage on my run, although my legs warned me they would not be able to rock this all day. At least I rocked it for 44 minutes, the length of time I ran last Sunday. Not quite halfway to my last year’s Boilermaker time (about 109 minutes, if I recall)(too lazy to walk downstairs and look at where Steven wrote it down). I’ll get there. And I’ll write a bunch of blog posts along the way. Stay tuned!

I Should Write a Better Lame Post

For two Fridays in a row my Happy Friday Mood has eluded me. Two Fridays ago I did not feel completely cheated, though, because I spent all day Thursday enjoying a Happy Because Tomorrow Is Friday Mood. Then again, that raises the question (note: it RAISES the question, it does not beg the question; that means something entirely different): how many good moods per week is one allowed? Stand by for some half-baked philosophy.

For those of you just tuning in, I’ll just mention quickly that this is Lame Post Friday, my day of random observations and half-baked philosophy. For regular readers (hi, Aunt Mary!), sorry if I bore you by repeating it.

Some people seem to be in a good mood all the time. Others not so much. Some people seem to be in a really, really rotten mood all of the time, they are so ill-used. And here is a not so random observation: most people do not find others’ bad moods nearly as well justified as their own. “Look at him — he’s got nothing to complain about!” is the basis of many a satisfying conversation.

I can’t say whether my Happy Friday Mood has deserted me again this week, because I feel I am writing this too early in the morning. I must give my coffee a chance to kick in. I remember one Friday when I had gotten up early but come in to work at regular time exclaiming brightly to a boss, “I’ve had five cups of coffee! You gotta get some work outta me before I crash!” I don’t think I actually crashed that day. It was a good Friday (but not, you know, Good Friday).

The preceding was written in my notebook before starting work at five this morning. Um, and by notebook, I mean a spiral job with paper, not a fancy little computer. I would have to say, not a true Happy Friday Mood, but not a bad mood. I got a few good laughs out of the day. And here is some more half-baked philosophy for a Friday: as soon as you start to tell yourself you should be in a good mood, you are asking for trouble.

Ooh, here is material for a blog post all by itself: the evil word “should.” As soon as you tell yourself you “should” do something, what do you want to do? NOT THAT! ANYTHING BUT THAT! It works for everything! I should run. I’m too tired, it’s too cold, I don’t have to run if I don’t want to. I should do my blog post. I don’t have anything to say, this blog is stupid, my computer is too slow. I should write something better even on a Lame Post Friday. Oh, don’t go there; this whole thing will come to a grinding halt.

You know, I’m wondering now if I could use that to my advantage. For example, I should eat more ice cream. Hmmm… I guess it doesn’t work for everything.

So there is my Friday Lame Post. Heavy on the half-baked philosophy, light on the random observations. Happy Friday, everyone, and may you all be in a happy mood, regardless of whatever you should be doing.

Return to the Unknown Park

Wednesday I was determined to go running. We had no rehearsal, so I was not worried about getting too tired. In fact, it would be a good think if I tired myself out. I could definitely sleep when I went to bed early, as I intended to do.

My Sunday run was 44 minutes. I know I have previously avoided saying how long I run for fear of invoking scorn and laughter. Then again, how many people do I think read this blog? Specifically, how many marathon runners? Well, as I said earlier, point and laugh if you must. I’m sure people who see me actually running do.

Where was I? Ah yes, Wednesday. The temperature was not bad, but the wind was brisk. I could see it had rained earlier but hoped that was over. I got into my running gear and set out. I had a vague idea of running up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the back way. Challenging but not too daunting. I didn’t know that I would go for 44 minutes. I thought even 20 or 30 minutes would suit my purposes. I would see how it went.

I managed to cross German Street without mishap, no mean feat in 4 p.m. Herkimer traffic. My body was not happy with me. For one thing, the brisk wind got colder. I put my headband over my ears, but there was nothing I could do for my hands. I was pretty sure already that I would not make it for forty minutes. I doubted my ability to make it up to the college. Perhaps the hill by Valley Health?

Then I remembered the Unknown Park. Some months ago I recall doing a post titled Run Through an Unknown Park. I still don’t know the name of the park, which is silly of me, because I read an article in the paper about it when HCCC students had a clean up day there (that’s not a run-on sentence; diagram it) (have you ever noticed that I us a lot of semi-colons? I love semi-colons. I think I’ll do a Friday Lame Post about semi-colons)(but I digress).

I knew the Unknown Park had some uphill stretches. It was someplace different to run. There might even be some sports games being played. It’s always nice to look at something active as you run by. I think other people’s energy travels through the air and helps me. A fanciful image, perhaps, but I’ll take anything that keeps me going. The entrance to the park is also on the same side of German Street that I was on. So I had my plan.

As I started across the entrance to be on the left side facing traffic, a car was approaching the gate to exit. I had not seen her due to the hill and curve and the fact that I don’t always pay enough attention when I’m running. I waved an “I’m sorry,” although I think I got across without obstructing her. She gave me the “That’s OK” wave, so that was OK.

I started up the hill. Not too steep but steep enough to bug me. Oh, I have not been getting enough sleep. It was fun to run on a gravelly dirt road for a change. No sports games were going on. There wasn’t even anyone letting their dog run in the big fields, as there sometimes is. I wondered if my dog would like to go there and run.

I saw a steep grassy bank on the other side of one field. Nothing I’d care to run up, even if I had gotten enough sleep. I saw some tire tracks dug into it. The tracks went partway up then stopped. I wondered what mishap had occurred and hoped that someone had been taping it for future inclusion in World’s Dumbest. World’s Dumbest Daredevils or Thrillseekers or even Motorheads. I watch them all.

As I continued running the wind picked up and got more bitter. The park is a lovely, woodsy setting, but it’s always cooler near the trees. I contemplated how welcome the coolness would be this summer but was not enjoying it on Wednesday. Was that a raindrop? Oh dear. As I headed toward home it did start raining but did not amount to much. It had stopped by the time Tabby and I took our cool down walk.

My run did have the desired effect of helping me sleep. I didn’t even make it through the evening’s episode of World’s Dumbest. It was World’s Dumbest Criminals 5, an episode I had already seen. I think it was a pretty good run or do I flatter myself? At least I don’t think I qualify for World’s Dumbest Runner. Maybe World’s Dumbest Blogger, but let’s not go there.