Wordless Wednesday: Sweet Land.

5 Things I'm Thankful For (Re. Mobility, and Post-Weirdest Week EVER).

Five things I'm grateful for after what may be the oddest week in America and with what could be, to put it mildly, called some challenges with mobility, are:

1. Technology. I cut out cable a while back for cost purposes, but even if I'd had it, I'm not sure I'd have been glad to rely on it with so many errors as the Boston bombing events unfolded.
2. The Hidden Protectors. I'm so grateful for those beautiful first responders during these attacks, and those who were gracious and generous outside of their jobs, but I'm always more aware than ever during times like these of the people in our military and intelligence communities who give of their lives to protect our freedoms on a regular basis, so we don't have to see the ugliness we witnessed last week.
3. Safety. This might seem pretty obvious, but it's really something we take for granted. From keeping OSHA inspectors away to Boston bombers, there are many people who care less about our safety, and it makes me grateful for those who are on top of it.
4. Sunshine. Because life's better with brighter days.
5. Compassion. These times bring out the best and worst in us (terror on a grand scale, limited mobility on a MUCH smaller one), but compassion overrides that, and my cup overflows when I have it and when I receive it. 

Pray for Boston. Pray for Texas. Pray for Iraq. Pray for us all.

Not just hashtags on Twitter. Not just something to do last week.

Boston Commons, March 2007

Dear Boston.

USS Constitution

For the past couple of years, I've joked that when my bum foot heals, I'll be like Forest Gump and run until I can't stop.

Time travel a few years back, pre-broken toe and pre-Stupid Foot, when I discovered Boston with some friends on vacation.

Paul Revere's house

(By "discover," I mean "fell in love." And by "vacation," I mean "my go-to if I ever needed to change identities.")

Even though with this confession the jig's up on my first-choice hideaway spot, hopefully it gives you an idea of how hard I fell for this gorgeous gem of a town. Town? It's a city. Well, a city, and a mere historical landmark of our entire nation. 

Site of the Boston Massacre

Paul Revere's childhood home. The Freedom Trail. Faneuil Hall. Boston Commons. Harvard. The site where the Declaration of Independence was signed. The first public school. The USS Constitution.

You know. A few significant locations.

Not everyone loves the feel and sounds and people and sights of Boston, and I get that. (I mean, I loved it even though it froze my face off, but I may not love running like I think I will, and a lot of people do even when it blisters their feet every.single.day.)

First Public School

But I did love Boston. Even though it's been six years since I visited, I'm pretty sure if you dropped me there, it would take me a little while to get my bearings, but I'd be smiling.

So today when I heard that people who are doing what they love and what I am admiring so hard these days were literally jarred by explosions that rocked this place I adore....well...what in the world.

Faneuil Hall

Without getting into the why-does-craziness-occur of it all, Boston? To runners? At the finish line? On Patriots' Day?

Too much sadness. Too much heaviness.

Where the Declaration 
of Independence
was signed

And thanks to having been there (and maybe a few other non-vacation, figurative locations these past six years), I understand there is too much life to live for me to waste the freedom that so much of Boston was originally marked with by letting the sadness and heaviness get the best of me.

The 2007 version of RJ
chilin' with Ben Franklin

I hate with everything in me that anyone wants to rip anyone's freedom away, whether it's a bully on the playground or a terrorist at a marathon.


I also hate that I ever let someone else's wound keep me from fighting for and enjoying my own freedom that is so viciously guarded to this day.

Beacon Hill

Boston is dear to me. Its people, flavors, and flair stole my heart, and I was only there for a few days.

Freedom is also dear to me. I admire those runners for expressing themselves today by accepting the invitation to be among an elite group of athletes who willingly wreck themselves to experience health and happiness.

I hope I will remember the fervor of runners when I'm tempted to give up. And I hope I will remember the freedom Boston memorializes that says I don't have to give up. Ever.



Dear Boston, thank you for the memories -- of that visit, and of how strongly I feel about my country's foundation. And dear marathoners, thank you for the reminder to keep going.

Please join me and pray for Boston.

Happy Feet, Happy Boston - 2007

Harvard Square

Salt & Pepper Shaker Bridge :-)

Quincy Market

Not Today.

Today I'm thankful that I don't feel like this:

Celebrate!

Even if we don't feel like it, there's always something to celebrate.

April is National Poetry Month, and the twittering brilliance of @brainpicker (Maria Popova) uncovers this lovely handwritten bit from 13-year-old Charlotte Brontë:

I’ve been wandering in the greenwoods
And mid flowery smiling plains
I’ve been listening to the dark floods
To the thrushes thrilling strains
I have gathered the pale primrose
And the purple violet sweet
I’ve been where the Asphodel grows
And where lives the red deer fleet.
I’ve been to the distant mountain,
To the silver singing rill
By the crystal murmering mountain,
And the shady verdant hill.
I’ve been where the poplar is springing
From the fair inamelled ground
Where the nightingale is singing
With a solemn plaintive sound.

Celebrate more "tiny verses on envelopes" here: http://m.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2013/04/tiny-verses-on-envelopes-the-handwritten-poems-of-famous-authors/274784.

Follow Maria Popova on twitter at www.twitter.com/brainpicker.

Celebrate!

Even if we don't feel like it, there's always something to celebrate.

April is National Poetry Month, and the twittering brilliance of @brainpicker (Maria Popova) uncovers this lovely handwritten bit from 13-year-old Charlotte Brontë:

I’ve been wandering in the greenwoods
And mid flowery smiling plains
I’ve been listening to the dark floods
To the thrushes thrilling strains
I have gathered the pale primrose
And the purple violet sweet
I’ve been where the Asphodel grows
And where lives the red deer fleet.
I’ve been to the distant mountain,
To the silver singing rill
By the crystal murmering mountain,
And the shady verdant hill.
I’ve been where the poplar is springing
From the fair inamelled ground
Where the nightingale is singing
With a solemn plaintive sound.

Celebrate more "tiny verses on envelopes" here: http://m.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2013/04/tiny-verses-on-envelopes-the-handwritten-poems-of-famous-authors/274784.

Follow Maria Popova on twitter at www.twitter.com/brainpicker.

Wordless Wednesday.

Good Friday: A Page From Joyce Meyer's Book

This piece from Joyce Meyer about Good Friday struck me today:

Ever wonder why we refer to the day of Jesus' death as "Good" Friday, since it's a day that involved so much pain, agony and heartache? Well, it's because the result of this particular Friday—Christ's resurrection from the dead on Sunday—was good.

In our daily lives, we need to believe that when we go through hard times, the result will be good. But when we're hurting, probably one of the most challenging things for us to remember is that God is going to work it out for our good.

Read more on Joyce Meyer's site: http://t.co/9XveOzsfdY

Ready, ok!

I'm really ready to be off crutches, but moreso ready to be 100%.

Here are a few things I'd love to jump (ha!) into once I get this cast off and am able to function normally:

1. A color run. They seem fun. I like fun.
2. Go back to the gym. I donate to this cause and feel I should benefit occasionally.
3. Shave my casted leg. I'm thinking it's grody.
4. Get a pedicure on my casted foot. Pretty sure it's equally grody.
5. Wear dresses. See 3 + 4.
6. Carry things on my own, like coffee, and plates, and boxes, without relying on others.
7. Open doors without burning 4,836,592 calories each time.
8. Walk in the rain without worrying that my crutches will slide around like death stilts waiting to take me to my casket.
9. Go into a store and be able to pick up items and make a transaction.
10. Clean without putting my life in danger.

There are others, like DANCE, but I'm stopping at 10. You're welcome!

5 Things I'm Thankful For: Friday Night Live Version.

1. Tough weeks. Yeah, I know. Really cheesy. But the adage is true: without rain, the sun would be under appreciated. Yada, yada, yada.

2. These blasted crutches. I have a new appreciation for a lot of things and a lot of people, and if that's the best thing that comes from this hugely inconvenient first world problem, I'll take it. (I hope this time also fixes my foot, though. Just putting that out there for the record.)

3. The broken road that led me straight to here. It wasn't always fun or smart or without its unpaved patches, but it was my path, and I'm thankful for it. Potholes and all.

4. Patience. I mean, yes, I'm also hugely annoyed by having to wait for things I want or need, but I guess in the long run, it's kind of a wise practice.

5. Humor. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have made it through this exhausting week without it. Also, I never ever exaggerate. Like, ever.

Wordless Wednesday: Riddles & Wit.

Wordless Wednesday.

Wordless Wednesday.

Gender-iffic.

I've loved the "Roger and Elaine" story for a long time, but am just realizing it comes to us compliments of Dave Barry.

If you've ever dealt with anyone of the opposite gender, you may appreciate this:


Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.

And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: ''Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?'' And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.

And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.

And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship, some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward . . . I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?

And Roger is thinking: . . . so that means it was . . . let's see ....February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means . . . lemme check the odometer . . .Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.

And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed -- even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.

And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.

And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. Oh, I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.

And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90- day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs.

And Elaine is thinking: maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.

And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a goddamn warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their ....

''Roger,'' Elaine says aloud.

''What?'' says Roger, startled.

''Please don't torture yourself like this,'' she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. ''Maybe I should never have . . Oh God, I feel so . .... ''

(She breaks down, sobbing.)

''What?'' says Roger.

''I'm such a fool,'' Elaine sobs. ''I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse.''

''There's no horse?'' says Roger.

''You think I'm a fool, don't you?'' Elaine says.

''No!'' says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.

''It's just that . . . It's that I . . . I need some time,'' Elaine says.

(There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)

''Yes,'' he says.

(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)

''Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?'' she says.

''What way?'' says Roger.

''That way about time,'' says Elaine.

''Oh,'' says Roger. ''Yes.''

(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)

''Thank you, Roger,'' she says.

''Thank you,'' says Roger.

Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it. (This is also Roger's policy regarding world hunger.)

The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.

Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say:

''Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?''

Making Groceries...in Comfort.

I just had the most comfortable grocery shopping trip ever.

I tuned out grouchy customers, focused on only the items I needed, didn't have to deal with employees who didn't want to be there, and eliminated my typical wandering through ever growing aisles -- a really helpful facet when navigating with crutches.

I'm pretty sure I actually decreased stress during the time I spent on this task.

How, you ask?

By using ValetGrocery.com!

I know I've blogged about this in relation to my foot issues before, but now that I'm restricted again, I'm starting to wonder why I don't save myself the hassle of the grocery store more often. The delivery fee is only $10. The prices are not higher than what I pay when I shop myself. Now, instant gratification is not a thing with ValetGrocery.com; you do put in your order 24-48 hours in advance.   But I'd say that unless you are an extreme couponer who has to have your groceries the second you think of your list, you should give this a try.

If you are in Baton Rouge and try Valet Grocery for the first time and don't mind an extra step, please let them know I sent you by filling out the "how did you hear about Valet Grocery" with my name and email address.

Even if you don't do that, though, consider giving hassle-free grocery-making a shot. IMO, it's worth it.

Reaction.

Weird, tragic news always puts a clearer lens of appreciation on this beautifully boring life I lead.

One of the strangest feelings I can experience is to be shamefully grateful and sympathetically prayerful, all in the same breath. Yet here I am again.

May the Lord bless and keep us all, just as He was asked to do in Numbers 6. May He make His face to shine upon us and be gracious to us, even when we don't understand, and can't see clearly at all.

5 Things I'm Thankful For (The Crutch Version).

The top five things I'm thankful for while on crutches are:

1. Days when fire alarms don't go off. There's probably no real need to elaborate here.
2. People who hold open doors. This is not a joke. Never underestimate the value of your kindness to a friend or a stranger. Crutch users get all kinds of cardio from merely walking down the hall, so it's super nice when able-bodied people take a few minutes and open what has suddenly turned into a really tedious door for them. I will forevermore go out of my way to do this for those who have found themselves to be handicapped, and if I don't, shame on me. 
3. Sunny days. Many things do not mix well. Oil and water. Hair and food. My daddy and big cities. RAIN AND CRUTCHES. Also, apparently the world ends when water hits a cast? That said, I really don't think it's too much to ask the weather to work around my schedule for the next 8 weeks, do you?
4. Bags. Pre-crutches, I had no idea how handy bags were. I mean, I thought I knew, but I really did not. Now I know. I get it. I really, really get it. Bag makers, you rock, and I love each and every one of you. 
5. Kindness and consideration. See explanation beside #1. (I'm not being lazy. I genuinely mean this. Every smile and gesture is noted and appreciated.)

Wordless Wednesday: Carnival.

Be My Guest....

I had an opportunity to be someone's guest for the first time ever – blog-wise, I mean – and guess what?  I did it!

It was new, exciting, fun, and a little scary, but I did it.

A fellow blogger whom I'd known only through the Twittersphere until recently (@dubyawife) put the call out for guest bloggers on her #fitblog, and here is my post:
http://www.dubyawife.com/2013/01/guest-post-all-shapes-sizes-by-rebekah.html

It stretched me, made me think, and for the first time in a while, gave me butterflies about writing.

I highly recommend it. :-)

Wordless Wednesday: January Skies.