It seems as though each time I train for any kind of long distance run, a brand new injury reveals itself. Such are the rewards for hard work. This new injury involves my left foot. The fifth metatarsal area, to be exact. I won’t know for sure until I see my orthopedist if it is … More And Then
Two factors which contribute to a structure’s strength are material and shape. The eggshell is weak in tension and strong in compression. – Noted from the University of Iowa Department of Education The dome beneath my foot holds my weight for now. All of my focus on the center, at the heart within the shell. … More Strong in Compression
It is Wednesday, and in Catholic school, that means Mass Day. To many people, church provides a place to be at peace and to pray quietly. I, however, take 16 first graders to Mass. Sixteen. First graders. To Mass. During this hour of (please be) quiet prayer (“God, please make him take his finger out … More Buddhist Chairs
As I climbed into bed last night, I felt the heat from my husband’s body rise from the blankets. Now, before you assume this is porn, let me explain. Gregg had a fever. Not that he isn’t hot in a hot kind of way. He’s just now also hot in an infective sort of way. … More Ode to a Great Leg
I just got sucked into taking another internet quiz. From past quizzes, I have learned that I should live in Cape Town, I would have been Carrie Bradshaw if I were a Sex and the City character, and I would have been St. Thomas if I were one of Jesus’ disciples (which is pleasingly coincidental … More Standard Deviations From the Norm
My relationship with running is on the rocks. Meaning, while I love it and I need it to feel complete, it is difficult right now and is causing me grief. Also meaning, it feels like I have rocks in the muscles between my hips and knees that are grinding into my bones. I am halfway … More Why Don’t I Just Stop Running?
“The water is wide I can’t cross over And neither have I wings to fly…” – English Folk Song, sung best by James Taylor, of course. Through teary eyes, I watched my son, Logan, swim the final meet of his senior year. And when I say “teary eyes”‘ I hardly mean that a small, … More The Water Is Wide
There are significant days you remember as a mother. The day my youngest son was born will stay with me like it was yesterday. My first son, not so much, as I was subject to a Morphine hazed C-section, knocked out before surgery by an anesthesiologist who was simply tired of hearing me curse the … More Rebirthday
I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I am sick. I think it’s dire. I think I might die. I don’t think gross exaggeration is a symptom of strep throat, so I’m pretty sure it’s as bad as I think. I began writing out my final wishes, but decided to leave one last blog post instead. … More Definitely My Dying, Final Post. Probably.
[Note: I am sick this fine February day. Instead of writing a brand spanking new blog post, I am posting a piece I originally wrote in 2009, before I met The Quiet One. It should be noted that he apologizes quite nicely, when absolutely, positively, unequivocally necessary.] Ah, the movie apology. He stands in the … More The Ethics of Apologies