I want to do more trail running. Hiking too. While we live in the city, there are plenty of places around here to do both – so this is definitely feasible.
I got the trail running itch after that trail race a few weeks ago. But then my finger tip was hacked open blah blah blah and all sorts of routines were thrown off – exercise included. It only follows that any trail running plans were put on hold too.
Within the last year or so here, the Mexican restaurant Chipotle has made its way onto our landscape. I do enjoy going to Chipotle and it’s one of the few chain restaurants I patronize.
Of course when I say “patronize”, I mean – to frequent as a customer – not that I treat Chipotle condescendingly or anything.
Oh and when I say “frequent”, this would mean on the occasion when there are no picky children in tow. And as the case may be, this means I get there once a month if I’m lucky.
You know that saying;
What we see depends mainly on what we look for.
Sometimes the answers that we seek are right in front of our very eyes, it’s just a matter of opening them and taking a look.
A couple weeks before all this finger felon business went down I’d read an article on Mark’s Daily Apple called The Case Against Cardio. (If you already love exercise and have no problem making time for a regular run or workout, that article is worth a read.) It got me thinking that regular, lower intensity work outs can be A-OK. Maybe even better than ok – maybe slowing down is actually a really good thing.
We have two cats. They’ve each had re-occurring guest appearances here before but what about what these cats eat? This is a food blog for crying out loud!
Until recently, our cats subsisted on dry cat food alone. About a thousand years ago we would give them canned cat food sometimes as a “treat” – but after going vegetarian I suddenly took issue with meat in cans, cat food included.
Thus, due in part to my new vegetarian dogmas, I stopped buying canned cat food.
Once upon a time I was that girl who tried and tried to lose weight and never saw any real, lasting results. While I never had a huge amount of weight to lose, I did know I wanted to be slimmer than I was for what felt like the majority of my life.
The post-pregnancy weight was always a little scary but eventually came off after each pregnancy with the addition of some moderate exercise. Then in early 2008 when I found myself back at my post-pregnancy weight and I hadn’t just had a baby – I knew it was time to get serious.
Problems.
We’ve all got them. Big problems. Stupid Problems. Finger problems that we can’t seem to stop writing about.
When I was a kid, unloading the dishwasher was one of my chores. Like most kids, I would have to be reminded and mom would say “I can’t make dinner until the kitchen is clean. I need you to unload the dishwasher NOW so I can get the kitchen cleaned up and make dinner.”
This spring I had a fellow Stay-At-Home(schooling)-Mom friend propose an idea to me that she called Tribe. Basically, the idea was that we’d pack up our respective broods and head on over to someone’s house one day each week to spend a few hours getting some real work done. Painting, cleaning, cooking, organizing, gardening, yard work – whatever anyone needed to get done, we’d get it done.
OK, I promise to stop starting all my posts with a picture of my left hand.
Right after this one.
Now, I won’t show you what’s under that bandage, but let’s just say this carrot sorta reminds me of something that I can’t quite put my finger on.
You know, if I had some raw hamburger to stuff into that crack there I bet then I could finger figure it out.
So how on earth a little finger infection and minor surgery can throw life into such upheaval for a couple of days is beyond me. But then I look at that carrot again and think about all the nerve endings in my finger suddenly I’m reminded why.
This post is brought to you courtesy of my right hand. And the title of this post has only to with the bandage job because, well, I mean – really now.
Besides that? I’m happy! For the first time in well over a week, my the tip of my left index finger does not hurt! At least until the local anesthesia wears off and I have to crack into this bottle of Vicodin here. Better hurry up and click Publish before this post makes a liar out of me.
More Mama’s Weeds
