More of the Bucket List

Cleaning out the house.

I am a pack rat. Have a hard time tossing anything out, so as a result, my little house is overflowing, especially now that BS has come back home with all the detritus of 7 years of independent living. This is not good for my peace of mind, my inner harmony, my zen, so today we tackled the attic.

3 piles - 1 for the trash (and we filled up our big bin pretty quickly), 1 for charity, and 1 to keep. My problem is that I will find something that not only have I not seen in years, but I forgot I even had it. Funny thing is, my life has not been burdened by the lack of this 'thing' in it for all these many years, but when I clap eyes on it in the dim attic, suddenly I can't live without it. "Ooooh, look at that little suitcase. That was mine when I was a little girl. Ah, such memories. I can't get rid of that!" You know how it goes.

Here is the attic:

Clutter. And you can't see it, but everything in it is covered with a fine layer of soot. I have an oil-burning furnace in the garage, and the properties of physics being what they are, the warm soot that leaks out of the pipe rises to the ceiling, where it gets sucked into the small spaces around the attic stairs to waft into the vast cavern under the roof and coat all possible surfaces. There is also lingering evidence of previous raccoon habitation, if you know what I mean.

Tomorrow I am calling the guy who got rid of the raccoons to see if he will do a thorough clean-up or knows someone who will. I don't have the desire to be breathing in the foul dust made of dried raccoon poop that I am kicking up rummaging around up there.

Anyone want a really cool old little suitcase? No? Well, I guess I'll have to keep it then. I'll try to make room for it.

Chuckles

Something that should be on everyone's Bucket List is finding opportunities to bellylaugh whenever they can. Laughing is your friend. It releases endorphins, lowers blood pressure, exercises your lungs, and boosts your immune system. It can even tone facial and abdominal muscles. Keeps you young. No, really. See.

So, this evening, BS & I took the opportunity and laughed our arses off. Loudly. Raucously. With abandon. With about a thousand other people. A friend had bought tickets to Spamalot but couldn't use them, so I bought them from her for a good price. Drove downtown to the theater and found our seats to be in the stratosphere - 1 row from the ceiling. We chuckled about that with the few others up there, so when the usher told us it wasn't sold out and that there would be ample empty seats up in the clouds, we all dashed down to the front row of our topmost balcony. There develops a camaraderie between the unfortunate denizens of the nosebleed seats, so we had a good ol' time up there with our new friends. After all, any fan of Monty Python is a friend of mine, and the musical chairs we were playing only added to the atmosphere of joie de vivre.

The show was terrific. A well-developed sense of silliness has always been high on my list of desirable attributes, and these people have it in spades.

I really wanted the can of Spam, but somehow $10 for potted meat seemed a bit extravagant, especially since even the discounted nosebleed seats were pretty pricey. I did, however, get the hand puppet of the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on. After all, I work in a pediatric facility, so I needed it for the kids, right? Yeah, that's it.

Tomorrow morning, I will put some new batteries in the camera and take a picture of him.

There was great excitement at my workplace on Wednesday. Bruce Smith, football legend extraordinaire, visited the Kid. And look, in that last link, right there for all the world to see, is the Kid's name and his picture, so I guess I don't have to be so secretive after all. Whoo-hoo! No more worries that I will slip up somehow.

I called BS to let him know, since Bruce Smith is da bomb, and he came on over to meet him also. There was a reporter from the paper, so a bitty little story will run in the biweekly insert in another week or so. I swear, there were a whole lotta females there that were positively giddy at his presence. (Bruce Smith's, not BS's, although, hey, they have the same initials. Coincidence?) Since you have seen a picture, I'll put in a couple more of mine.

All the paraphernalia that Brandon wanted Bruce to sign.

He was gracious and kind to all, especially all the kids he met that day. He had heard that Brandon was a big Hokies Fan and had been to 2 home games in Blacksburg.....

.....so he arranged for the visit. A real class act and nice guy. This next picture is my favorite picture of all, Brandon & BS - my 2 boys. BS does not know I have put this picture up as he is asleep while I am doing this, but I will ask him in the morning, and if he squawks about it, I'll have to take it down. But for now, here it is:

Everything was going swimmingly until BS opened his big trap. He told Brandon that he was getting ready to drive to Blacksburg to go to the game on Thursday night, so Brandon should look for him in the stadium, ha ha. You see, he was operating under the erroneous assumption that Brandon could lounge in his bed and watch the game on his own TV. He does have a TV in his room that he watches videos on (and BS has given him some good ones to watch), but it is not hooked up to cable. Of course, no sooner were the words out of BS's mouth, still hovering in the air over our heads, than Brandon whipped his head around to look at me. A prolonged awkward silence ensued. Great. Thanks a lot, BS. I KNEW what he wanted. And he knew I couldn't say no. He wanted to know if I was going to come back to work the next night and watch the game with him. That is the only time he gets to see them, so how could I refuse? I gave BS the stink-eye and told Brandon OK. Not what I had planned on doing on a school (for Brandon) / work (for me) night. I had planned a bike ride. Honest, that's what I was going to do. After we left Brandon's room, I gave BS the business. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mom. I thought he was going to watch it in his room."

Remember a couple weeks back when BS came with me on a Saturday to watch the game with Brandon, in the EMPLOYEE BREAK ROOM? I think that should have clued him in, but it is now evident that my own spawn is not one of my 3 faithful readers. Humph. This is the scenario in the break room:

See how high up the TV is. I can tilt Brandon's wheelchair back, but I have to sit and crane my neck up to see the screen. Cue teeny violin. Then it rained all day Friday and half of Saturday, so I did 10 miles on the stationary bike Saturday afternoon instead. No sooner had I finished than the sun came out and a beautiful day appeared. No fresh air, my neck still hurt, and now my butt hurts too. I see you out there wiping away a sympathetic tear. Uh huh, I sure do.

At least there was a good evening at the end of it. BS & I drove to my mom's for prime rib and peppermint ice cream. Afterwards we watched "Roman Holiday", great old Audrey Hepburn/Gregory Peck classic. And I ran up & down her 10 flights of stairs. All in all, a good few days.

Oh, and I think my pants are feeling just the teeniest bit looser. Or maybe that's because I just had a nice big belch?

http://health.discovery.com/centers/diabetes/guide/lose-weight.html

How's this?

I went up & down 20 flights of stairs today. Does that count for anything?

Promises Kept

Okay, I did it. It was windy and pedaling was hard. I want some pity.

http://www.botany.otago.ac.nz/bso/imagegallery/images/Windy-Nugget-Point.jpg

Oh all right, maybe it wasn't THAT windy.

Training Update

That title is something of a misnomer. I am full of shame, Shame, SHAME.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v35/TheCEO/Shame-award-1.jpg

BS & I had a very nice ride and drive afterward last Sunday. Since then? Pfffft. Nada, zip, zilch, nuthin'. I continue to do a lot of walking at work, seeing as how it is a very large building, but bicycle? Nope. The guilt was gnawing and chewing at my conscience, so I got out the stationary bike this evening. You wanna know what I did? Here's how it went:

• Get on the cycle & turn up the resistance to assuage the aforementioned conscience
• Pedal pedal pedal
• Hmmm, the seat seams a little high since I put the little pillow on the seat, so I have to get off and adjust the seat
• Pedal pedal pedal
• I'm kind of thirsty, so I have to get off and get a refreshing drink of cool water
• Pedal pedal pedal
• Darn, now I'm hot, so I have to get off and turn on the fan
• Pedal pedal pedal

Do you see a pattern here? Pitiful. By the time 40 minutes had gone by, I had only gone 8 miles. But remember, that is with the resistance higher, so I didn't go as fast. Yeah, that makes up for it. I will ride for real tomorrow. Outside. On a real bike, on a real road. I promise.

There, I announced it to the world, or at least to my 2 loyal readers. Oh wait, I think I'm up to 3 now. Whoo-hoo!! So I have to do it, I must save face after my failure.