Category Archives: personal

Return of the Crazy Old Lady Hat

Posted on March 14, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I was going to call this post Blogger’s Sick Day, because I was too ill all day at work to write during my breaks. I was not too ill to work, just too ill to feel happy about it.

My plan after work was to return home and scramble into bed to nap before tonight’s rehearsal (have I mentioned I’m in a play at Ilion Little Theatre? Oh well, preview of coming attractions). I carefully set my watch alarm to wake me in time to shower and type three sentences, because, as regular readers know, I have challenged myself to post something every day for one year.

Well, I sucked on Zicam all day (I usually buy generic, but the name brand was all they had at Kinney’s last night). It seemed to help. Or else the cold is just running its course. Who can tell about these things? In any case, I did not feel as knock-down, drag-out awful as I did yesterday driving home from work.

I had also spent the day watching the light outside fade and brighten. Now it looked like a storm, now it looked sunny. As I drove home to Herkimer, sun had won. Hmmm, no walk for Tabby yesterday. Me and Steven both going to rehearsal tonight. I saw my way clear: I had to walk my dog. I realized, too, it was warm enough to make wearing my crazy old lady hat appropriate. Score! A plan and a blog title!

What a long introduction, just for a post about a walk with my dog. Oh well. I relaxed for a few minutes with my steel-toed work shoes off, then put on running shoes and got my hat and Tabby’s leash. I found my prescription sunglasses, too. I find the sunglasses/hat combination to be ideal on sunny days. I should mention, perhaps, that my crazy old lady hat is khaki canvas with a wide brim. I love it.

Other than the running shoes and hat, I still had my work clothes on: BDU pants and a black t-shirt from Melfe’s Shoes (where I got my steel-toed work shoes). Yes, it was a crazy old lady outfit, even without the hat. No matter. When you’re walking a cute, friendly little schnoodle, people tend to smile at you regardless.

We turned down Church Street toward the Historic Four Corners, Tabby’s favorite way to walk, because a lady was walking two dogs in the direction I would have taken. They seemed very interested in Tabby, and I didn’t want to cause trouble. Tabby did her business in somebody’s lawn, which I usually try to prevent. I try to get her to poop in the strip between the sidewalk and road, but this time she was too quick for me. Of course I picked it up in a plastic bag I carried for just such a purpose.

As we went by Herkimer Reformed Church, Tabby wanted to sniff some dog poo in the church yard. Who let their pooch poo in the church yard and didn’t pick it up? That shows a lack of respect. I saw another pile of poo in the sidewalk. Really, some dog owners.

Tabby pulled me across Main Street, no light-hearted task, and toward our church, Christ Episcopal. Nobody was there, but Tabby has been there a few times when nice people have petted her, so she often wants to check it out.

We continued on Mary Street then down Washington past Carney’s Corners, where we had walked with Tabby the other day. Steven went in and bought us a sub while Tabby and I hung around outside. Tabby looked with interest at the store today. I thought briefly of going over and putting her poo in their outside trash can but decided against it.

We walked on. We passed Lorraine Bills School, which has been closed for some years. There is a FOR SALE sign on it, saying it is a brick bonanza and has a large lot. I guess that means the building is no longer any good. I hate to see these old buildings go to waste.

I noticed a sign for a chicken pot pie dinner Wednesday the 21st at the church on the corner of Green and Washington. Tabby pulled me around the corner and down Green before I had a chance to look at which church it is, but corner of Green and Washington, you can’t miss it.

We luckily made it back across Main Street and made our way toward Meyer Park. Ah, here was a trash can where I could deposit the poo. It was starting to smell in the warm sun. I was feeling a little hot in my black t-shirt. It seems as if we skipped spring straight into summer, but I hate to complain about the warm temperature. The brim of my crazy old lady hat started blowing up, letting the bright sun into my eyes, which aggravated my headache (did I mention I’m not feeling 100% better yet?), so I crossed to the shady side of the street.

As my hat continued to blow up, I wondered if I looked like one of the Bowery Boys, either Sach or Mahoney. I don’t properly remember the Bowery Boys, only that we used to watch them on Saturdays when we were little. I seem to remember one of my sisters turning up the brim of her hat and saying she was either Sach or Mahoney. I guess I should get these childhood memories straight before I share them.

Well, I’ve rattled on a good long time about a short little walk. All this with a headache. Guess I didn’t need Blogger’s Sick Day after all.

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Miscellaneous Middle-aged Musings

Posted on March 13, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

One thing I’ve noticed about middle age is that losing the hour for daylight savings time kicks my butt. What’s up with that? I never used to notice. No fair! And it seems so disproportionate. I understand that my body thinks it’s 4 a.m. when the clock says five. What I don’t get is why my body can’t seem to acknowledge the two cups of coffee I’ve consumed.

I started thinking, somebody might advise me to give up coffee entirely and let my body’s natural mechanisms help me to wake up. No way! I love coffee! It is one of the few consistently wonderful things I encounter. If it doesn’t wake me up, at least it tastes good. If it doesn’t taste good, at least it wakes me up. It very rarely does neither (obviously this morning it tasted good) (just as an update, some time after I wrote this, I had some that woke me up. So there).

That got me thinking: what other things in my life consistently bring me happiness? That might be good for a blog post.

Laughter. It is true what they say: laughter is the best medicine. And it is NOT true something else they say: that the truth hurts. It doesn’t always. Today a lady called me a snot-nosed little brat. Quite true. My spring allergies have kicked in with a vengeance and, well, at least I cop to the brat part. I’m still laughing about it. When I laughed about it at work, it woke me up better than coffee usually does and it was more fun. Unfortunately, laughter is not as easy to come by.

My husband and my dog are great sources of happiness and contentment to me (you knew I was going to mention them, I hope). Of course, nothing you love intensely will be all comfort and serenity. For example, when my dog Tabby was ill last Friday, it was a source of stress and worry. You’ll have that.

Food. I love food. Sometimes when I’ve eaten a good meal I’m actually a little sad, because it’s going to be a few hours before I’m hungry and can eat again. I guess it’s a bittersweet feeling. When it’s been a lousy meal, it sucks. Again, you’ll have that.

I’m beginning to think (or muse, to stay on topic) that Middle-aged Musings is just another expression for Half-Baked Philosophy, which I have on Lame Post Friday. But what’s wrong with beginning and ending my week on a silly note? Happy Monday, everybody!

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Two Days Running

Posted on March 11, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I wondered if my readers could bear yet another post on running. Then I thought, nobody HAS to read it. But some people might LIKE to read it. Anyways, it keeps me going.

Friday at work I rashly said, “I’m going to run up the hill to H Triple-C on Sunday.” I figured saying it would make it happen, and it turns out I was right. I started out early, before the warmer weather that is expected later. The sidewalks were bare and the sun was shining. What wasn’t to like?

As I ran toward the road to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC), I wondered if I would regret my rash words. I pictured people at work asking me did I run up that hill. I would answer, “Not very fast.” Then I reflected on my own ego: I not only think people listen when I talk, I think they remember what I say. Well, just in case somebody did, I started up the hill.

“You have all day to get up that hill,” I told myself (I often talk to myself in the second person). “Just look at your feet and shuffle on up.” That is a trick I learned in the army: you don’t feel so overwhelmed if you don’t keep looking up, up, up. I peeked a few times anyways.

What a long hill. I saw a cigarette butt in the road and thought that my run would be much more difficult if I smoked. So I had that going for me. In the army I knew several excellent runners who smoked. I’d even heard of one fellow who stopped in the middle of a PT test to smoke a cigarette and still made his time. That kind of wise-assness is rampant among the lower enlisted. I suppose in the upper ranks, too, but I didn’t hang out with them much.

I started to have a little trouble breathing. I tried to take deep breaths and hoped I didn’t sound like I was doing Lamaze. Then again, I don’t think anybody was listening.

At last I made it to the top! If only somebody was around to sing the chorus of “We Are the Champions” while I walked around with my fists in the air! Well, I wasn’t ready to walk yet anyways. Still, I could run with my fists in the air. Nobody was looking, and if they were they would just think I was stretching to get rid of a stitch. They wouldn’t know I didn’t have a stitch. I put my fists in the air. Oh, that made it easier to breathe. I had forgotten that trick.

My legs were feeling pretty smug. “You were so worried,” they said. “We could do this all day!” A short while later they indicted that although they could keep going all day, they were by no means inclined to.

I ran down by the back way, a gentler slope. Ahhh, when gravity is my friend. I turned left where a sign said “No Left Turn,” just to be that way. I ran through a residential area where last summer I ran by people sitting on their front porches. Ah, porch sitting. That weather will get here!

I was as usual glad I had run. I even enjoyed the run itself. When those warmer temperatures arrive, I bet I can get my dog to go for a nice walk with me. That might be good for Monday’s post. Stay tuned.

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Shuffle in the Snow

Posted on March 10, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I had meant to go to a fish fry last night, so I would have something to blog about today other than this morning’s run. In fact, I had not meant to run this morning but thought to leave it for this afternoon. I don’t know why I ever “mean to” do anything. It almost never works out for me.

Our schnoodle, Tabby, was ill last night and we did not like to leave her alone. So no fish fry. This morning, we thought we might be calling the vet at 8 a.m. when the office opens, so I thought it might be a good idea to get out and run when I had the chance.

Quite frankly, it wasn’t a good chance. It had snowed and was still snowing. It was cold and windy. There is every chance the weather will improve to excellent running conditions this afternoon. Nonetheless, there I was, looking for my long-sleeved ARMY t-shirt and winter running socks.

I had walked around the block with Tabby earlier for her first business meeting of the day. I had observed that the sidewalks were snow covered but not necessarily icy. Well, I run at kind of a shuffling pace anyways. I’ll just shuffle a little more so, in case of ice. So far so good. Actually, I thought, this might work out. Look how little traffic is to be found at 6:30ish on a Saturday morning. I easily crossed German Street and headed for the hill out Main Street.

I intend to run up the hill to Herkimer County Community College on Sunday, so it behooved me to run a good hill today. The hill out Main Street is divided into kind of sort of thirds by the right hand turns available. I made it through the first two thirds. Excellent, I told myself. There was some definite ice on the roads, at a section where there is no sidewalk. Due to the lack of traffic I felt comfortable to move more toward the center of the road. Then I had to run back down.

In general, downhill is a beautiful thing when you’re running. All you have to do is lift your feet a little and let gravity do the rest. On an icy road, however, I don’t find it so much fun. I exercised caution. Then I got to a more main road which the sanders had been down. Ahh! Better! I still didn’t want to be too far onto the shoulder, so I kept an eye and ear open for traffic. One truck behind me. No worries. Back to the snow covered sidewalk when I had the chance.

That interlude had not taken up too much of my intended run time, so I got back to my own side of German and tried to decide which side streets to run down. I made one detour when I realized a truck up ahead of me was a paper deliverer. I figured with all his starts and stops we would pretty much keep pace at least for a little while, and I wasn’t feeling particularly sociable.

My sweatshirt started to feel a little warm. I thought of taking it off and tying it around my waist. This would have the advantage of covering my butt. Not that I’m too worried about people staring at my butt when I run, although it is a little unsightly. Eventually I moved the shirt. Now my butt was warm and my arms were cold. Never mind, I was more than half way through the run. I can’t be bothered getting dressed and undressed a dozen times.

I came to a street which some people I know live on. I don’t want them to think I’m stalking them, but I also thought it was unlikely that they would just happen to look out the window at the precise moment I was shuffling by. They might even still be in bed, like normal people on a Saturday morning (hey, with my hours, 5:30 is sleeping in for me).

Eventually I looked at my watch and realized I had eleven minutes left on my intended time and I was at approximately the same place I had been earlier in the week with nine minutes to go. The snow was slowing me down, so I thought I could head for home. At worst I could always go past my house and back track. I hit some definitely icy sidewalks as I went through the downtown area. Yikes! Then I went through where some snow had drifted (still not very deep; it hadn’t snowed that much) and “Over the River and Through the Woods” started playing in my head. That was actually pretty good. I ran in time to the music and thought about Grandma’s house.

I ran by my own house. I considered running for less time than I had intended. After all, I was being virtuous enough, getting out this early and running in the cold and the snow. Then I remembered that tomorrow is when I planned to bump up my time by the weekly ten percent recommended to me by the guys at the Sneaker Store. I kept running.

I made my intended time, and Tabby, who seemed to be feeling a little better, graciously walked my cool down with me. As we walked, I realized “Over the River” was still playing in my head and I was walking in time to the music. Dear me, do I walk at the same rate I run? I do shuffle, don’t I?

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Giving Away Nieces’ Afghans

Posted on March 9, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I had been noticing a flier posted at work about a Cabin Fever Party and Chinese Auction to benefit the Herkimer County Humane Society. I had recently donated an afghan and some scarves to H.A.L.O., the cat rescue organization, for a similar purpose, and thought to do the same for the Humane Society.

Regular readers know I love to donate my afghans. Anybody who was reading me in December (oh, I know, such a busy month; don’t worry about it) knows I owe three nieces afghans as Christmas presents, because I gave theirs (with their generous permission) to the Folts Home. I’ve been crocheting quite busily attempting to make up the lack but I’m not ahead of the game yet. I have not checked with the nieces, but I felt sure they would not mind waiting a little longer (in my defense, it’s not like I’ve never given them afghans).

So I went to the Humane Society’s Facebook page (I’m quite the Facebook aficionado) and asked would they like such a donation. They would indeed. I said I would drop it by their location soon.

Some years ago it was a thing to print out a circle with “TUIT” inside it. Then you said, “That thing you’re going to do when you get a round to it? Well, here’s a round tuit.” I need one of those. I let a week go by. I knew from somebody else asking on Facebook that the Humane Society was hoping to have all donations by the first week of March. I had a little leeway.

Steven and I rode over on Monday, our rare day off together. I picked out an afghan with Easter colors: turquoise blue and pink (it was the afghan previously destined for my niece Jenna — sorry, Jenna!). I also grabbed a few scarves. I think they are nice scarves.

We brought Tabby. We know they like dogs at the Humane Society. When we walked in, three dogs in cages immediately started barking at her. I think they were boy dogs and wanted her to be their girlfriend. Boy dogs usually do. They continued to bark as I dropped off my donation and wrote down my information. The lady asked me if we were together.

“Yes, we’re all together,” I said. “We like to bring our dog places.”

When we got back home I realized I did not have my purse. Rats! After first checking that I had not left it in the house to begin with (as I have been known to do), I drove back by myself. The three dogs in their cages did not bark. I told you they were barking at Tabby. It was really not too inconvenient; I just felt a little silly. I merely mention the event in case any readers have done something similar; now they can feel better that they’re not the only ones.

The Cabin Fever Party and Chinese Auction is Sunday, March 25 from two to five at the Frankfort VFW, 4274 Acme Rd. Steven and I intend to be there. Maybe I’ll even bid on the afghan. If I win it, I can give it to Jenna for Christmas.

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Running on Sunshine

Posted on March 8, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

We are unable to present our regularly scheduled blog post…

I know, what a crock. I write what I can and post something every day. I usually write at work but today was unable to manage more than a paragraph. I’ll try that one again tomorrow. Today for your delectation I will write about the run I just now got back from. Um, I have showered, for those of you who are concerned about my husband’s olfactory nerves. Oh, and I stretched, for those of you concerned about my meager muscles. Now then, where was I?

Today was the warmest day since fall. What a relief! I drove home with the window down. I had the urge to stand on the porch drinking beer like a college student. Um, I resisted that one. I ran in shorts and a t-shirt. Bliss!

It was shortly after 4 p.m. when I started. An unfortunate time as far as traffic goes. I wanted to cross German Street and run up a hill I know out Main Street (I’m not ready for the hill to Herkimer County Community College yet). There is a four-way stop, so it should be doable. Well, traffic was backed up on both sides. I know how that goes. One nice person gives you the go-ahead wave, you go ahead and the bastard going in the other direction nails you. Or at least blasts his horn at you. There is little consideration shown by some. So I kept running down German.

I turned down Washington and finally found a place to cross that street in front of the County Courthouse. I mean the newer, taller one, not the one where we went to a Historical Society presentation recently. That was the older one that Roxalana Druse and Chester Gillette were tried in. I ran by the other one. Its parking lot is across the street, and there is a sign by the crosswalk saying to stop for pedestrians. So I made bold to cross there. I suppose it is for people with courthouse business to get to their cars, not random ladies running, but nobody seemed to mind. I ran through the parking lot, just for something different. I rarely run through parking lots. I find them dangerous at the best of times.

I ran around, turning here and there, going down different streets, and was surprised to find that the blissful feeling engendered by my light running clothes did not last. In fact, running became quite effortful (as usual, my computer is telling me that is not a word, but it is what I mean so it is what I say). I continued to make the effort. Eventually I returned to German and was able to cross. I saw a bit of a hill and thought to run up it. I ended up turning, though, as I saw the sidewalk ended. I don’t mind running on the road, but prefer to choose less trafficky times to do it (another non-word according to my computer. Tough). I crossed back to my side of German almost immediately as I had a good opportunity.

Eventually I looked at my watch and saw I had nine more minutes to go to reach my target time and feared I was more than nine minutes from my house. How to get back quickest? I turned here, then there. I had to cross Main Street. Tricky! Then I saw a lady with a baby carriage in a crosswalk. They were a little ways down from me, but I was able to make it across due to the stopped cars. It sounded like somebody beeped their horn at her. At least, somebody beeped their horn. Maybe it was at me, but I don’t think I was in anybody’s way. Like I said earlier, no consideration.

I made it back home in my allotted time. Tabby and I had a leisurely walk around the block for my cool down. I stretched. I showered. I wrote this blog post. Tune in tomorrow for what I had meant to write today.

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Great Expectations and Moronic Musings

Posted on March 6, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I thought today was going to be Middle-aged Musings Monday and I was going to have an easy post to write. Then Steven and I visited the Herkimer County Historical Society and I foolishly mentioned that I intended to write a blog post about it. One of the ladies even wrote it down.

So naturally I thought, “I’d better write about the Historical Society today, in case that lady wants to read it.” I mean, think about it, I brag about my blog about local attractions and businesses and she tunes into Middle-aged Musings? Face it, some of my musings are about as lame as Lame Post Fridays. I have my days.

We all know where this is going. Can I write a word? NOOOOOO! (OK, obviously I can write words, but are they words I like and don’t want to cross out? NOOOOOO!)

What a ridiculous situation. I don’t suffer from stage fright. I know I have readers, and the thought that somebody may want to read me does not usually result in an inability on my part to produce something for them to read. What gives, me? I’ve talked about Writer’s Block — or, more accurately Writer’s Blank. I’ve talked about writing things down and crossing them out (quite recently, in fact; sorry to repeat myself so soon).

Hey! Maybe this is all leading up to Musings about Expectations. I’m afraid the ladies at the Historical Society will expect me to write a blog post about them right away. I expect myself to be able to just sit down and write something brilliant (or at least postable). But I had previously expected to have an easy post today and to write about the Historical Society tomorrow. And I guess I also expect that lady is going to run right home to her computer and look for my blog (what an ego! You’d never think I suffer from low self-esteem).

Now I must come up with something profound to say about things not always being what we expect. Then again, the positive thinkers say if you expect great things or if you expect lousy things, you’ll probably get what you expect. Where does that leave me?

I expect that tomorrow I’ll be able to come up with a decent post on the Herkimer County Historical Society. It would be presumptuous to expect, but at least I can hope, that my readers will forgive me for a singularly foolish post today.

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Running On

Posted on March 4, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Saturday I ran after a few days not, and it was not easy. I kept myself going with the promise that I would blog about it. I really do enjoy running along and writing in my head, although the finished product is probably quite different from the mental draft.

A reader commented on a post about a couple of bad runs that completing a difficult run could be empowering. It’s true. It is often amazing to me how often that little voice in my head saying, “I can’t do this!” is wrong.

I remember once in the army a fellow soldier after falling out of a run said, “It was fall out or pass out.” I did not believe her but was tactful enough not to say so. Sometime later I sort of proved it to myself. I wanted to fall out of a run but said to myself, “Just run till you pass out.” I knew that if I passed out I would have an unassailable excuse for stopping (I just love that word, unassailable). Guess what? I didn’t pass out (I was sure you would guess). My vision didn’t even blur. I made some hideous noises breathing, but that was pretty normal for me for the time (I later found out it was Vocal Chord Dysfunction, but that’s a whole other blog post).

These memories and reflections kept me distracted and running for a good while. I enjoyed the (relatively) warm temperature and plowed through some puddles of melted snow. My feet got wet, but so what? They would dry.

I planned at least one good walk with my dog. I imagined how running would become easier and more fun, maybe even by tomorrow. I looked at my watch and tried not to be discouraged at how little time had passed. It was not until I started writing this that I realized I did not see the discarded underwear I’ve been noticing on Caroline Street. Too bad. That added a little interest to my day.

When I completed the run, I felt happy if not exactly empowered. Sunday’s run was much better. I look forward to finding out what Monday’s run will bring.

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First Run after Registering

Posted on February 29, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

So I registered for the Boilermaker and proceeded not to run. In my defense, the weather was bad and I felt like crap (oh, don’t point me out folks who run in a blizzard with pneumonia; that is not me).

I was determined to run on Monday. The weather cooperated. My body cooperated. My dog didn’t act too bent out of shape. I was off.

Regarding my dog: I was not completely without exercise all weekend, because Tabby and I took a lengthy walk on Sunday. I had not intended to do such a thing. I had intended to sit with my feet up, possibly sipping hot tea, recruiting my energies for the week ahead. However, when I went upstairs (for a purpose I no longer remember), Tabby assumed it was preparatory to taking her for a walk. She started jumping and hopping and looking so happy and hopeful, I just couldn’t disappoint her.

And for the first five minutes of the walk, I thought that maybe fresh air and exercise were just what I needed. I spent the subsequent thirty minutes of the walk realizing that they were not. As we walked through the park, I envisioned myself sitting on a bench and falling asleep. I wondered if somebody would rescue me before hypothermia set in but decided not to risk it.

I was feeling better by Monday afternoon. I only wished I had laid out my running clothes before work, but, goodness, who thinks of such things at four in the morning? (Probably those same folks that run in a blizzard with pneumonia.)

So there I was, running down the sidewalks of Herkimer. I saw the discarded underwear I’ve noticed before. They were crumpled up just off the sidewalk this time. I noted a screened-in porch with a lot of junk piled up in it. What a waste of a screened-in porch! Perhaps the owners mean to clean it in the spring. An open porch had two lovely wooden rocking chairs. Oh, I’ll be so glad when porch sitting weather arrives! (I almost said “I can’t wait,” but in fact, I shall have to.)

My run was feeling pretty OK. I got to the “I can rock this” stage fairly early on. A few leg muscles expressed displeasure further into the run, but you’ll have that. I refuse to let a little muscular miftiness deter me.

I felt so happy at the end of my run, I wanted to walk around with my fists in the air while somebody sang the chorus of “We Are the Champions.” Quite a feeling of triumph for one little run. Well, I try to accept joy wherever I find it. Boilermaker, here I come!

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But Blake Said to Punch the Guy!

Posted on February 28, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Middle-aged Musings Monday is back!

OK, that was all I had written in my head so far. I thought that once I put the pen to the paper, words would magically come out. They sometimes do, you know. Oh well, somebody once said writing about not writing is still writing.

Speaking of not writing, since I was in search of inspiration I began re-reading the divine If You Want to Write by Brenda Ueland (Graywolf Press, St. Paul, 1987) (originally published in 1938). And I have been musing lately on a quote in that book from William Blake: “Sooner strangle an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires.”

At first glance, it seems that Blake is giving us permission to do whatever the hell we want to do as soon as we feel like doing it. I have to say, that doesn’t really sit well with me. But on looking again, I see the word “nurse.” Maybe Blake meant you don’t have to act on any desire, but if you’re not going to act on it, don’t dwell on it. I like that better. (Just a side note: my computer keeps telling me “unacted” is not a word, and I don’t see it in the dictionary, but that is the quote.)

I’ll give an example. Suppose I want to punch some guy right in the face (I’ll use myself in the example, because I get the impression Blake was not the sort to go around punching people) (um, neither am I, of course) (you do believe me, don’t you?). My experience and common sense tells me that this is probably not a good idea. But the devil on my shoulder says, “Blake says to do it! Don’t nurse unacted desires!” The angel on the other shoulder (a much more soft-spoken creature) repeats, “Don’t nurse unacted desires,” putting a little more emphasis on “nurse.”

In other words, don’t sit there wishing and wanting to do something you don’t intend to do. Decide not to do it and move on.

I have to confess, I do not always heed this advice. I don’t usually punch sons of bitches in the face, however appropriate it may seen (OK, I’ve never punched a son of a bitch in the face). But I nurse the desire.

I think about the crunching sound as the cartilage in his nose crumbles under my fist (shut up, this is my fantasy). I picture the blood spurting, the startled look on his face. I anticipate the feeling of utter satisfaction.

Ahem. This is obviously not a very good thing to do. It will lead to utter dissatisfaction that I did not punch the guy, or I will punch the guy and no doubt find the satisfaction is short-lived, if at all.

Full disclosure: I have not read much Blake. And by not much, I mean I’ve read quotes by him in other books. Well, there are a lot of books in the world. If I’m going to have time for Regency romances and murder mysteries, I’m going to miss a few classics.

Be that as it may. I’ve covered one musing, ironically enough on a quote I found while searching for my muse. Is that an irony or merely a play on words? A musing for another day. Happy Monday.

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