Category Archives: personal

Excuses, Excuses

Posted on April 25, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Now I’ve done it, now I have done it. This is another fine mess I’ve gotten myself into! Now look what I did! (Substitute “you” for “I” and the first two are quotes from movies and the third is just something I like to say.) (Oh, and “me” for “myself,” but you probably figured that out already.)

I went the whole day without writing my blog post, then I got home from work and did not go running so as to have something to write about. I had an idea earlier that I would just write off the cuff about why I haven’t written anything, but you know, it isn’t Lame Post Friday. Then again, I don’t think I posted lamely last Friday, so maybe it will be OK.

In my defense, I spent my breaks at work studying my lines for Harvey, which is to be presented by Ilion Little Theatre, The Stables, Ilion, NY. Production dates are May 4, 5, 6, 10, 11 and 12. Times are 8 p.m. except for Sunday, May 6, which is 2 p.m. So you see, it is close. What, me nervous? YES!

I haven’t had a big part in a play in a LONG time. And I didn’t have all that many big parts when I used to get big parts. Um, I think two. Two big parts. Back in the 1990s. Then one small part last year. What the hell was I thinking?

Picture me with my wrist to my forehead. Now stop playing that miniature violin and keep your sarcastic remarks to yourself. I love being in a play. I love having a big part. But I’m still working overtime, still training for the Boilermaker, still trying to write this silly blog every day, still trying to take care of my husband and dog, oh yeah and myself… something’s got to give. Today it is Mohawk Valley Girl.

So I have just written some 300 words on how I do not have time to write a blog post today. That’s kind of silly, but then I always say, go with your strengths. We’ll try this again tomorrow. As always, thank you for playing.

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Olive a Good Sammich

Posted on April 23, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Today I did something I rarely do: checked previous posts to see if I am repeating myself too egregiously (I know darn well I repeat myself; I only do so many things). I see that I did mention making egg and olive once. That time did not turn out so well. So I feel free to write about my experience of this afternoon.

It is Sunday. I spent most of the day Saturday running around having Mohawk Valley adventures of the shopping kind, but I don’t feel up to writing about that. Truth is, I don’t feel up to writing much. I felt tired to begin with, then I went on a long run and took an allergy pill afterwards. Allergy pills may put me to sleep or dope me up. Today they made me very tired and sapped out any vestige of ambition I may have had (and after my run I confess I did not have much). But I am so close to my goal of posting every day for a year, I really really want to write something.

I had put some eggs on to boil to make egg and olive for my sandwich tomorrow (I usually say “sammich” but I sometimes write “sandwich”), and went to the computer to Just Write Something. The eggs finished boiling while I was checking my email and facebook notifications. I was going to let them wait, but then I said, “Hey! I’ll make my egg and olive and blog about that!” That’s what you might call a win/win situation. Or is it multi-tasking? Killing two birds with one stone? Anyways, I thought it was a good idea.

I remembered I like to cook with wine, so I poured myself a small glass. First I put ice in the glass, to dilute it a little. I don’t want to get squiffy, I just want to cook with wine. It’s an odd phenomenon, but I find that sometimes a sip of wine counteracts the vagueness engendered by the sinus medication. Perhaps it’s placebo effect. Or I just don’t notice the allergy pill reaction any more. I’m inclined to think the former, though, because I usually take one sip, put the glass down and forget about it. That is what I did this time.

I peeled the eggs. I was about to throw out the shells when I remembered a conversation with a guy at work in which he said it was a good idea to put egg shells on the plants in your garden. I have not planted my garden yet, but I took the egg shells out and threw them onto the dirt where the garden is going to be. My dog Tabby followed me out. When I went back into the house, she went to stick her nose in the egg shells. She’s been sticking her nose in the garden dirt ever since the snow melted. I called her to come back in the house. Note to self: get fence to put around garden.

Back in the kitchen, I sliced the olives. I put them in a bowl with the eggs, mayonnaise and a little mustard. The mustard jar says it is Sweet Hot Dipping Mustard. I find it more sweet than hot, so I put a little horse radish in my egg and olive, to add a little zing. Then some Pampered Chef All Purpose Dill Mix, and some Lemon and Pepper seasoning. Mix, mix, trying to chop the egg whites with the fork. Ought I to have chopped them with a knife? Too late now.

A taste. Not bad. What to add? Then I remembered, chives! I have three patches of chives in my lawn which now come up every year with no effort on my part. I love chives! I ran out and got some. Chopped them small and threw them in. Another taste. I think it will do.

I put my mixture in the refrigerator for the flavors to blend. I’m sure this will be a delightful addition to my lunch tomorrow, in a whole wheat pita. In the meantime, I picked up the glass of wine I had forgotten about earlier, and I’m considering cooking dinner. I think I’m on a roll.

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Running When You Gotta Go

Posted on April 22, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I heard it was supposed to get cold and rain on Saturday, so I set out early, well, early-ish to run. Since it was prior to 8 a.m., I thought I could get away with running a little ways up Route 28. I intended to drive that way later, in search of Mohawk Valley adventures, so I thought I could set my mileage thingy and see how far I had gone.

Right away I could tell it was still a good temperature for running. Aaah! Less than two blocks into the run, I had to go to the bathroom. “No way,” I told myself. “You just peed! This is habit bladder!” Then I pondered further and realized, I had forgotten to go. Let’s see, brushed teeth, decided to get dressed and then pee, got dressed, started running. Damn! How could I forget something that basic?

Now what? I hadn’t gone that far; I could turn around and go back. It might upset the dog. When she sees me after I leave to run, she expects to walk a cool down with me. Anyways, once I start running, I want to run, I don’t want to stop. Oh, I could wait. I intended to run 40 minutes. Could I wait 40 minutes? “Fight habit bladder, fight habit bladder,” I urged myself. After all, I obviously hadn’t really had to go before I left or I wouldn’t have forgotten. I just like to go before I leave the house. A habit my mother taught me.

I thought briefly of running in a different direction, like maybe to McDonald’s and using their bathroom. Then I thought, I’m running out Route 28. Isn’t that out of town? Doesn’t it get rural and woodsy? Maybe I could find a friendly tree. I don’t run out that way very often, so I couldn’t say for sure I would find such a tree, but I thought the odds seemed good. Then I thought, I could also run the other way on 28 and come to Hannaford. They opened at seven and have a perfectly nice bathroom. It would mess up my mileage checking plan, but still.

Friendly tree or respectable grocery store? Friendly tree or respectable grocery store? I pondered as I ran. Waiting a full 40 minutes seemed an increasingly less viable option. Then I considered, I’ll probably blog about this (as you see). I think it is not quite legal to pee behind a tree, however friendly, within village limits. Might not be the sort of thing to put out on the internet for all to see (um, I mean to read about; I did not intend to take a picture or anything).

Then I got to the H.A.R.C building at the end of German Street and I saw it! A porta potty, apparently for whoever was doing all the work on the building and grounds. They don’t lock those things, do they? I sprinted towards it and hoped for the best. Success! It was open and not too dirty. There was plenty of toilet paper (I even managed to blow my nose, which usually needs it). Oh, I was happy.

As I continued my run out Route 28, I was extremely grateful for the porta potty. There were trees, but they did not look very friendly and they certainly did not look discreet. There were more houses that way than I remembered. In short, there was no handy place for a tinkle.

I did not run very far out the highway, though, because traffic was heavier than I like. It wasn’t horrible, but enough cars were zooming by me that I was not comfortable. When I drove out that way later I found I had gone more than a mile but less than a mile and a half. I had still run for my forty minutes, though, by dint of following other streets.

I felt pretty happy about my run: beat the rain, beat the cold. It was important to me to get the run in, because I only ran once since Sunday. I had intended to run on Friday, but came home from work with the most debilitating headache. You know, the kind of headache where, when you realize your head has finally stopped hurting, you want to weep with gratitude. Maybe some people can run with such a headache. I cannot.

On the Boilermaker route, there are porta potties. There are usually lines for them. 14,000 runners, I guess there would be. I shall plan to get to the starting line early enough to wait in line for a pre-run tinkle. Just another thing to think about as I train.

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Not an Ice Cream Run

Posted on April 18, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

As the Boilermaker looms ever closer, I’m feeling the pressure to run, run run. I also have rehearsals for Harvey (the play I am in with Ilion Little Theatre) (feel I must say it every time) as well as other responsibilities (hello, working to pay the bills), so today I thought I would compromise with a shorter run. Sunday when I added my weekly 10 percent, I was up to 40 minutes (laugh and point if you must), so I thought a 20 or 30 minute run would at least get me out there.

I put in a load of laundry before I started out. Then I thought a 30 minute run would be perfect. Followed by a 10 minute cool down walk around the block with Tabby, I’d be getting home just as the laundry was finished. How efficient am I? I could hear the ice cream truck as I came out the back door. No ice cream for me, I thought. I’m not just training for the Boilermaker; I’m trying to drop that last ten pounds.

So off I went, ice cream truck tune playing in my head. At least it gave me a good pace. The sun was brighter than I had realized, making the temperature warmer than I had expected. Yesterday was downright hot, and I did not run. I thought today would be better.

I heard the ice cream truck behind me. No way! Was it following me? Well I couldn’t get ice cream anyways, I told myself; I didn’t have any money. Still, I thought, I bet that ice cream truck would follow me home, especially if I promised to buy a half dozen treats, which I could stick in the freezer and surprise Steven with. If they lasted that long. I didn’t see the truck. Another block down I didn’t hear it either. Phew!

Down this street, up that street. Is this the way I went Saturday? Go the other way. I thought I saw a bag of yard waste with a head. I mean, it didn’t look like a real head. Like a bucket or something with something on top to look like hair. When I got closer, I saw it was a kind of a lumpy person sitting on the ground near the curb. He had a bucket shaped head with one of those hairdos that are shaved all around but mop-like on top. I am being completely unspecific about what street I saw this person on, because I think that is kind of an unflattering description. To mitigate, I couldn’t really see him all that well; my running glasses are several prescriptions ago.

I ran down Folts Street, which the Folts Home is not located on. Carney’s Corners is. They make great subs. Hmmm… I could go in, order a sub for delivery, run home and pay for it when it arrived. What a great idea! I turned the other way before I could talk myself into it.

I decided to head toward Myers park, which I used to always run through just before heading home. I had to cross Main Street. Traffic. Ugh. I jogged in place till I had my chance then sprinted. I’d like to say I crossed the street at a dead run, but two thirds of the way across I saw the curb and thought my stride was not the proper length. I had a brief vision of myself sprawling on the sidewalk, toe bruised, shin bleeding, pride in complete tatters. I avoided that disaster and headed towards the park.

Was that the damn ice cream truck heading in the same direction? Was it stalking me? Probably not. I believe the person who owns or runs it lives near where I live. I’ve seen the truck parked at a house a couple streets away. Again, I will not get specific. I’m sure there are those that stalk the ice cream truck.

I ran though the park as the truck drove on. Then around the perimeter of the park, to gain my full run time, then home without further incident or temptation. I did not have ice cream. I do not intend to have ice cream. Today anyways.

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Muggy Run

Posted on April 16, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I know I threatened a post about cleaning my house, but I thought a post about a run would be more fun.

I confess, the run did not start out very fun. I didn’t even get to it till a few hours later than I would have liked. Steven and I had first to go to the grocery store. That was enjoyable enough (we always get silly in the grocery store), and we beat the Sunday morning rush. Then we went out to breakfast, always a joy. When we got home from that, we took our dog Tabby for a walk. For one thing, she was even more frantic than usual on our return, and I thought it would help her work off some of that energy. Then some laundry and other chores while I waited till my breakfast was good and digested.

I had spent the earlier part of the morning quite delighted with the day. I love being up in the morning; the day feels so unused. It rained last night, so the world felt clean. In short, it felt like late spring, early summer. Warm enough to enjoy but not too hot. And cloudiness prevailed, which I always find relaxing.

Unfortunately, by the time I got my running gear on and got out the door, an unaccountable feeling of irritation had overtaken me. What was that all about? Could have been a factor that I had been doing housework. You would expect a feeling of some accomplishment from that, but I tend to only get a sense of how much other crap needs to be done. (Oh yeah, I said I wasn’t going to do a cleaning post. My bad. On to the run.)

As I ran down German Street toward Herkimer County Community College (HCCC), I found the clean, unused feeling of the day had dissipated, to be replaced by mugginess. All those clouds I like so much do bring the moisture. Well, I told myself, just be happy your hands aren’t cold. My legs were not happy with me. What was that all about? It hadn’t been two days since I ran; I just ran yesterday. This should be fun! Oh, just keep going.

I saw some daffodils and hyacinths in a front yard. I caught a lovely whiff of hyacinth, but that may have been my suggestible sinuses at work. No matter, I enjoyed it. I saw a little white dog. Was it my friend Nicky? I quickly saw that it wasn’t and decided against crossing the street in hopes of petting it.

Passing the spring, I considered stopping for a quick drink. Usually a drink from the spring is my reward after I run up the hill to HCCC, but sometimes I take a drink as an encouragement beforehand. I decided against it today and continued on up. Oh, it sucked. But as I ran, I reflected that there was really no question that I would make it to the top. Once I start on a run like that, nothing really stops me. I suppose if I tried to run up too fast and started to hyperventilate that would do it, but I am unlikely to do any such thing.

I smelled a skunk. I had been keeping my head down, staring at my feet, but now I looked up and ahead. If there was road kill skunk up ahead, I wanted fair warning. Clear shoulders. Phew! I hate running by road kill. At last I was at the top. Nice view of Herkimer. I thought I saw the old factory that houses Fat Cat’s Fish Fry. Must go there some time; it would make a great post for Mohawk Valley Girl. I saw a church spire but was not sure from which church.

As I ran by the dormitories (I almost typed barracks; just a prior army moment), a masculine voice shouted, “Good job, YEAH!” I waved in the general direction it came from. I don’t know if the young man meant it as honest encouragement or was just making fun. Either way, it gave me a smile. I thought of the college students, many of them probably still asleep at almost 11 in the morning, making up for all-nighters during the week. Or maybe still drunk from last night. Wild times when you’re young.

I ran further onto campus than I have been, up by the gym, where I could cross over to Reservoir Road. Not a lot of water fowl by the reservoir, as there sometimes is. I saw one duck, or maybe it was a goose. I don’t know from birds. At last I was headed downhill. Ah! Now the run started to be fun! My muscles were warm and stopped complaining. I could have used a little less heaviness in the air, but I could breathe OK. Not like it’s going to be later in the summer, when I will strive to do most of my running in the early morning.

I upped my time by the recommended ten percent, as I like to do on a Sunday. My irritated feeling was gone. I felt pleased with my run and ready to take on the rest of the day. I have an authentic Mohawk Valley adventure planned. Stay tuned!

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Running Into Saturday

Posted on April 15, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I approached the weekend with several Mohawk Valley adventures in mind. I also approached it with a singularly messy house and an increasing pile of laundry (how do I manage to get two pieces of clothing dirty for every one I wash?). So many things I could and should do: a rummage sale where I might find a costume for the play I’m in, set construction for said play, H.A.L.O.’s Trash to Treasure Sale (you know how I love to support H.A.L.O.), and of course that dirty house.

I also approached the weekend in a state of exhaustion. Regular readers (you know who you are) (hi, Mom!) may have noticed I’ve been having kind of rough week. No real reason that I can point to. Just the normal vicissitudes of life, I suppose. Anyways, I decided that to spend Saturday running around tiring myself out even more was the wrong thing to do. As they say, I needed time for me.

Having decided not to spend the weekend running around, the first thing I did was go running. OK, that’s not true. The first thing I did was drink coffee. And since my husband, Steven requested I hang out with him till he left for work, I didn’t hit the pavement till almost 9:30 this morning.

I set out with no plan of where to run, but thought some hills might be a good idea. I crossed German Street easily enough and turned toward Main Street. Then I thought, ooh, I’ll go up Steuben Street. That way I can run out for a certain length of time and see where I am. Later I’ll take the car (or truck), set the mile counter to zero and see how far I ran. I haven’t done that in a long time. Of course, I’m almost always disappointed in how short a distance it actually turns out to be, but it’s a good idea to be informed of these things.

As I ran down German, I noticed Dorf Street, which did not seem to be a dead end. There are many dead end streets off German. Sometimes I run up and down them, to add a little variety to my runs, but in general I don’t like running back the same way I just ran out. I thought I would like to run out Dorf to see where it went, but having already made my Steuben plan, I stuck with it.

As I ran up Steuben, I saw the other end of Dorf Street. Cool, now I know where that goes. Unfortunately the sidewalk ends fairly soon into Steuben. I persevered for a ways up the hill, but traffic was heavier that I like. Actually, I don’t like any traffic at all, especially when there is no shoulder. I bypassed the first left turn, to keep going uphill, but took the second. The uphill continued, so I thought that was OK.

I didn’t notice the name of that street, but it was quiet. I got within sight of the end and thought I had missed another side street, so I turned around and ran back to look. Um, no, so I turned around again and kept running. I hope nobody was looking out their window, because they might wonder about me. Still, if somebody was casing the neighborhood with robbery in mind, I doubt they would be running along wearing a bright tie-dye shirt.

I reflected on the tie-dye shirt as I continued my run. Many people have seen me wear the shirt, so it would be a poor choice for me if I wanted to be inconspicuous. But if I didn’t ever wear a tie-dye, it might be just the thing go wear as a disguise. People would focus on the bright shirt; they might not notice my face at all. Then when the cops asked for a description, witnesses would say, “Oh, she had on this bright tie-dye shirt.” I would only have to take off the shirt to become completely inconspicuous. I don’t really intend to turn to a life of crime, but if I ever did, I think I would know how to set about it.

My run was actually a pretty good one. The longer my runs get, the more I enjoy them. I guess it’s because I have more time for the “I can rock this” stage to set in. Next week I intend NOT to take two days off between runs. I think that will work out better. As for today, I felt energized. I actually started doing something about the dirty house. Now I’ve done cooking posts, but I don’t think I’ve ever done a cleaning post. Might be something to think about.

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Lame, Lame, Lame

Posted on April 14, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

If all my friends were jumping off a cliff, I’d take it under advisement.

That phrase occurred to me as I walked into work today. The actual train of thought was this: my parking job was not perfect (it almost never is). I thought if somebody else parking at the same time said anything about it, I could move my truck three inches forward to make it closer to ideal. Then, I thought, what if that person said, “Do you always do what people tell you to do?” And I would say, “Well, not if you told me to jump off a cliff.”

I suppose that falls under the heading of long story, not very interesting. It sounded better in my head. It often does.

That was what I wrote before work started. At my first break, I wrote:

So there I was, writing my Lame Friday Post, and I don’t like it. And I didn’t start to dislike it till I was two sides of a page in! What’s that all about? (A note: as I type this into the computer later: I actually did not inflict everything I had written on you, so the preceding was not, in fact, two sides of a page.) (In case anybody was counting.) Usually if I start to dislike what I’m writing, it happens right away. After a paragraph or even a sentence. Sometimes it doesn’t even make it to the page, because I reject it while it’s still in my head.

And then I went on for another few paragraphs on the inner critic. They weren’t very good paragraphs, and I don’t feel like typing them in.

So as Lame Posts go, I’d say this is one of the lamest. I feel bad about that, because, you know, I gotta think that yesterday’s post about instant coffee was kind of lame too. I am in a blog slump. What to do? What to do? I guess the usual: I’ll look for some Mohawk Valley adventures and try again tomorrow. Happy Friday, everyone.

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A Tasteful Blend

Posted on April 13, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I knew I would run Wednesday, because I had missed Monday and Tuesday. You see, I thought I would try to conserve my energy for rehearsals for Harvey, the play I am in with Ilion Little Theatre (I feel I must say it every time, in case somebody forgot or just tuned in). I have to work hard at this acting stuff.

As rehearsal time approached on Monday, it seemed the conservation idea was not working out very well. I was exhausted. I knew some coffee would help, but that was problematic, too. If I drink coffee too late in the evening (ie, late enough to help me out with a 7 p.m. rehearsal), I don’t sleep at night. I’ve worked on not enough sleep. It’s not fun. I compromised with a tasteful blend.

OK, that needs a little explanation. The coffee machine at work offers a selection of “Mocha.” Below “Mocha” is the description: “a tasteful blend of coffee and chocolate.” Eventually I tried it. I’ll be honest, from a taste point of view, I prefer either coffee or chocolate. However, sometimes, straight coffee bothers my stomach and sometimes straight cocoa is just too sweet. And a tasteful blend offers entertainment value. I like to approach one co-worker in particular and say in a TV commercial tone of voice, “It’s a tasteful blend of coffee and chocolate.”

“A tasteful blend,” she repeats with a smile. Sometimes as I approach her with a cup, she forestalls me with “Is it a tasteful blend?”

I find it enhances my beverage experience to make a silly joke about it. I know, it takes so little to please some people.

I thought I would attempt a tasteful blend of my own at home, using instant coffee and cocoa. We normally brew coffee at our house, but we try to keep a jar of instant around for just such an emergency (I got that expression “just such an emergency” from a Foghorn Leghorn cartoon. Maybe it doesn’t perfectly fit in this context, but how often do you get a chance to quote Foghorn Leghorn?). So I put half instant coffee, half instant cocoa in my hot water. Hmmmm… when it got cool enough to drink, it was not the thrill I was hoping for.

It was not the boost I was hoping for either. I told my castmates I would consume more coffee prior to Tuesday’s rehearsal. Of course I still had to sleep Tuesday night. What to do?

Steven suggested I start with brewed coffee. Well, it just stands to reason: start with better-tasting ingredients, you’ll get a better finished product. I made half a cup of cocoa then added brewed coffee. Hmmm… better. I added a little more cocoa mix without adding more water. Better yet, but still not the tasteful blend I sought. I still drank it, of course (hell, I drank the first failed attempt; it wasn’t that bad). I thought of making a second cup, maybe adding more cocoa mix, maybe even making the cocoa component with hot milk instead of water, although that seemed a little fancy for my purposes.

Then I thought: the whole reason behind the tasteful blend nonsense is to keep myself from consuming too much caffeine. Even I can do sufficient math to realize that two half cups of coffee is equivalent to one whole cup (and considering “half” is a mere estimate, it could be more). Then I saw the error of my brewed vs instant decision. Brewed coffee has the most caffeine (I mean of several things: tea, soda, etc.) (a college friend read me the numbers out of drug studies book back in the ’80s. Of course I don’t remember the numbers, but for caffeine, brewed coffee is the way to go).

So I did Tuesday’s rehearsal on one tasteful blend using one half cup of brewed coffee. It actually did not go too badly. Wednesday I had no rehearsal, so I attempted no blends but went to bed early. I am typing this on Thursday. Rehearsal looms. Perhaps I have time to attempt another blend. I’ll report back in a subsequent post.

Just a final note: I think I will boldly categorize this under cooking, among other things, even though technically I guess I didn’t cook anything. I am such a rebel.

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Hump Day Run

Posted on April 12, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I was unable to write today’s post while at work today, so I thought I would run after work and write my post about that. I had intended to run anyways, because I missed the last two days. And it being Wednesday, I thought the headline was a natural.

It rained this afternoon while I was at work. I spoke to Steven on the phone at my 2 p.m. break and he said it was pouring in Herkimer (I work in nearby Ilion). Oh dear. I hate to run in the rain, but, two days off, I made up my mind to it. Then the rain stopped by the time I left work shortly after 3:30, so that was OK.

As soon as I started, I felt I was in trouble. I kept saying to myself, “But it’s only been two days!” And I had long, good runs Friday, Saturday and Sunday. What does my body want from me? Well, today it seems it wanted me to sit down, but we kept running anyways.

I saw a guy with an adorable little chihuahua across the street. Unfortunately it was German Street and way too busy to just run across so I could pet it. I think I’ve met that chihuahua before. I called a greeting at least.

I could feel myself running slowly. Putt, putt, putting along in fact. A young man ran down the opposite side of the street (in the road, left side, facing traffic). He was loping along quite easily at a pace that mocked my middle aged shuffle. Ah, youth. I did not call to him. There were cars zooming by, so he probably would not have heard me. I comforted myself for my slow pace with the reflection that at least I would not run out of sidewalks in the village. As my runs get longer, I sometimes find myself looping around a lot in order to avoid crossing the busier streets. I lengthened my stride to a semi-sprint for a very few feet, as a lady waited for me before pulling out of the parking lot of the H.A.R.C. building at the end of the street.

I ran around the perimeter of the parking lot. I saw a very old sign I had noticed before and been unable to read. Today I was close enough to make out part of letters that might have at one time read “TOWED AT OWNER’S EXPENSE.” I wondered if anybody would come along and tow me if I just collapsed, which my body was urging me to do. I told myself they would need a flatbed for my fat ass and kept running.

Down this street, up that street. I saw a crumpled piece of cloth. It was too wet and smushed to tell what it was, but I wondered if it was somebody’s underwear. I kept seeing a pair of underwear out the other end of German Street earlier in the spring. It added a little interest to my run.

As I went, it did get easier. My leg muscles warmed up and stopped complaining so much. So when I saw an ambulance parked outside of the medical building I felt I did not need it. I looked for an ambulance attendant so I could yell, “I’m good!” or some other such remark, but nobody was there. Just as well, I suppose. Ambulance attendants don’t have time for my silliness.

By the time I reached the end of my run, though, my legs felt like macaroni. And not al dente, either; the overcooked kind. That happened in the middle of a previous run. That was when I thought of the al dente line, and I’m finally getting to use it. Waste not, want not. Anyways, on that run, I started thinking about how very cooked pasta can have its charms as well, most notably in some real mushy baked macaroni and cheese.

MMMmmmmm…. Now I’m thinking about pasta again. It’s good for runners to eat pasta. Of course, the good runners eat it the night before a big run, not after running and blogging about it. Oh well, I’ll just have to run tomorrow.

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Paint the Set Red

Posted on April 11, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I have not written much about Harvey, the play I am in at Ilion Little Theatre. I don’t feel I should write about the rehearsal process, but I think set construction is fair game.

At the first set construction I attended, about all I did was hold up a wall while somebody else drilled a hinge onto it. I suppose that was helpful, but I did not feel that I made a real contribution. So when I heard they were painting last Saturday, I thought, “Ah! Here’s my chance!”

Mind you, I am not an experienced painter. Places I have lived have needed very little in the way of paint. When they have, other members of my family actually did the work, most notably my father, who is a skilled professional. You might think I had gotten him to teach me the tricks of the trade, but that would be crediting me with a lot more ambition and foresight than I actually possess. Still, I thought, maybe there is something in heredity. Anyways, it doesn’t have to be perfect: only the actors see it up close, and they have other things on their minds.

My first task was to accompany Megan to select paint. We went to Ilion True Value Hardware.

“Ooh, a local business,” I said. “This might be something good for Mohawk Valley Girl.”

Actually, if I want to do a post on Ilion Hardware, I shall have to return, because all we looked at was paint colors. That was fun.

My dream job is making up names for colors. I’ve thought that ever since I sold shoes about a hundred years ago and realized how many words there were for tan. I had to question the mind that gave colors names like “lentil” and “fiber” (the colors were similar, and I guess there is fiber in lentils, so maybe not too weird?) (mmm, yeah, weird). My favorite was “hunky dory.” Megan said she might use that one for a trim.

“But would you use it in a sentence?” I asked.

She thought she had, probably with ironic intent.

Back at the theatre, roller and/or brush in hand (I used both, plus one of those little spongy things), I was less helpful. I dripped paint on the stage. When I got it where it belonged, it was too thick or not thick enough. I left a couple of lumpy looking drips. In short, I discovered that painting is not a hereditary talent.

But everybody was nice about it, and I had a lot of fun while trying to be useful. The set is looking more like the places it is supposed to be. I see now that I have told you more about my personal misadventures than anything else. Maybe in a future post, I can tell you more about the play itself. One other thing: the set is not red. I was going for a play on words; you know, paint the town red? Oh well, headlines are hard.

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