The Big Chill is Coming

Doug wanted to get an early start this morning to get a bunch done today because we have a 100% chance of rain tomorrow. There is an arctic front screaming down south towards Houston. It’s supposed to be 22 degrees here tomorrow night. For us that’s cold, realllly cold. Yeah, we’re wussies. Make fun. We can take it. We’re also the ones who live the Brazilian rain forest every summer when the temperature and humidity both average in the high 90′s. So cut us some slack on the cold.

No outside work for Doug or gym for me tomorrow. Hell I might even shave my legs again tonight.

I just heard we may even have snow later this week. For Houston this is a big deal. For the most part, the city shuts down, which is a good thing. People down here just don’t know how to drive in snow or on ice unless they’re transplants.

Some People are Just Assholes

As you may recall Doug and Brett just replaced one side of our back fence. I don’t know how the financial part is handled in other parts of the country; but down here it’s customary that the two homeowners split the cost. Once Doug had the OK of our landlord he spoke to our neighbor, explaining exactly his cost and getting his approval. Skip forward three weeks now. Rob, our neighbor is trying to renig on his part, saying that he could get the fence for $13/pf. He agreed to $19. The going rate for the exact fence Doug built was $25. He even went to a fence company and got the quote in writing.

This guy drives a Porsche and a Land Rover. How stupid is it to ruin a good relationship with a neighbor over what is a relatively small amount of $$?

Doug is PISSED. Beyond pissed. He cannot abide a liar. He walked around the house actually shaking he was so mad, his jaw jutted forward (a classic Doug is PO’d sign). And it wasn’t about the money itself, just that the guy turned out to be such a weasel. Doug turned it over to our landlord to sort out. We’re just deducting the cost of the fence from our rent this month.

Lucky for Rob, Doug is not a violent person.

Take Care of Your Body or Else

When we went out to the Renaissance Festival last fall we heard that a friend of ours I used to work with there was not doing too well.

I’d called him a couple of times the past few years, but we just never connected. Yesterday we just happened to be in the suburb where I was told Jim was these days, so I told Doug that we should pop in to see him. He didn’t have a phone there or internet.

When we walked into his room he took my breath away. The robust guy I’d always known was gone. In the bed was a tiny, frail old man with long hair, a long beard and only one leg. I smiled when I went to him and kissed him on top of his bald head, trying to regain my composure so he didn’t see the tears in my eyes. I let Doug talk for a minute so I could figure out just what to say.

When Doug quit speaking, Jim started. He’d always been diabetic, but not on insulin. Then over the past couple of years his health went south. His kidneys failed. Then he had a heart attack when he turned 60. Then they took his left leg to the knee, then had to take more when that wouldn’t heal. He said he’d been in that bed in a semi-private hospital room for the last TWO years.

Jim said “I guess those two packs a day and a steady diet of chicken fried steaks finally caught up with me.” He said he was planning on being out of there by Feb18th and going back to his house. I don’t see how. On the plus side he said he could probably get a job as a pirate now. I was glad to hear that Jim hadn’t completely lost his sense of humor.

After leaving there I told Doug that I was going to start dragging him back to the gym with me whether he wants it or not. Speaking of the gym, Evelyn, AKA the gym Nazi, called me this morning, this time at 6:45am. I did not give in and stayed in bed. However on my quest to become more healthy I’m going to the gym after lunch.

And Now For Something Completely Different….

How cool was that?

I just realized that the morning is almost over and I haven’t started on my rodeo work for the day; so I guess that’s it for now.

Stay warm my friends.

When I got home from the gym I was feeling virtuous. I’d made the first step, the hardest step and in fact planned to take a Zumba class Saturday morning at 10.

When we went to bed Friday night I had planned to spend some quality time with Doug before class the next morning. I even shaved my legs Friday night, the universal signal that slap n tickle would soon follow. It’s like the guy on the tarmac with those big lights waving the jets in.

Doug got up yesterday morning went to the hall bathroom for his morning ablutions, let the dogs out, and was coming back to bed with an agenda. While he was out of the room, I brushed my teeth and attempted to make myself fetching. Well as fetching as I could be upon first waking anyway. Now that my hair is long, it tends to just do whatever it wants to do. First thing in the morning I tend to bear a striking resemblance to to Medusa.

And just when things were beginning to get interesting, the phone rings. It’s 7:20am. Our kids would never call that early just to chat. So I surmised that someone must be in trouble.

So I drug my butt outta bed, away from a snuggle that was quickly morphing to more, crossed the room to where my phone was, picked it up and what did I hear?

“GET YO ASS OUTTA BED! GET UP! GET UP! WE’RE GOING TO THE GYM!

It was Evelyn. Shrieking at me.

OMG!

Talk about a mood killer.

And no matter what I said she would not be put off. She was a woman on a mission as she’s going on a cruise in 10 days and was coming to get me come Hell or high water. I told Doug to have his troops stand down and gave him a rain check. I laced up my shoes, went to the gym, did the treadmill and the machines and went  home. Lucky for me the Zumba class that I thought was going to be at 10am actually started at 11. So I had enough time to rest and recharge between the two workouts.

I was wrong.

By the time I got to class there were at least 50 people already there waiting for it to start. Knowing that I’d be bouncing about looking like a differently abled elephant in an Ace bandage since I’d never done it before, I wisely chose a spot at the back of the class, not wanting to draw undue attention to myself.

I was relieved when I looked around and saw people in varying levels of fitness. They were not all bodies beautiful. Of course the instructor was. She was a beautiful young Latina, a mere wisp who’s entire body was the size of my thigh. But looking at some of the others in class I felt extremely relieved. Maybe it wasn’t going to be as hard as I thought.

I was wrong.

There was no warm up; and the time between songs was less than 60 seconds. But technically it wasn’t exactly hard. I was actually able to kinda pick up on about 65% of the steps as they transitioned from one to another. It was just the pace, which was relentless.

Note to self: Wear two bras when going to Zumba next time.

Remember when I thought that I had enough time to rest between working out at 8am and doing Zumba at 11 am?

I was wrong about that too.

Sweet Jesus was I wrong. I lasted exactly 17 minutes, after which time my legs felt like they were made of lead. I could’ve gone on but thought I should stop lest risk needing a defibrillator which I thought just might put a damper on class.

Remember my wise decision to move to the back of the class as to not draw undue attention to myself? Was that a good decision?

Not so much.

As I turned to leave I realized that all during class I’d been directly in front of the ginormous floor to ceiling window that everyone on the treadmills and bikes faced. How did I not realize that before?  After my trip to the dentist earlier in the week however, somehow this didn’t surprise me at all. I guess it was just my week to be in the spotlight whether I wanted to be or not.  Well at least no one laughed in my face when I exited the class and walked by the treadmills.

I’m hoping to go through next week totally unnoticed. Wish me luck.

I wonder just what percentage of advertising the first two weeks of the new year will be for weight loss? I bet it at least 10%- ads for pills, liquids, gyms, clinics, CD’s, programs and machines. My favorites though are the bizarre electronic gizmos that make the adipose tissue magically melt away while you sleep….if only. I think most of us know the one magic exercise that will guarantee weight loss- pushing yourself away from the table after putting less on your plate; sad, but true. Mental Floss has an article- “A Brief History of Dubious Dieting”. In it, William the Conqueror, in 1087 was credited with starting fad diets with his “all liquor diet”. He died after falling off his horse- go figure.

Horace Fletcher, a San Fransisco art dealer became known as the Great Masticator. He was a proponent of super chewing each bite of food until it became liquefied. John Harvey Kellogg, of cereal fame, was a nutrition and health nut who ran a sanitarium in Michigan, where he encouraged his visitors to “Fletcherize” with a little song he wrote called “Chew Chew.” The movie The Road to Wellville, is a comedy about the sanitarium. For the most part, the movie got bad reviews. We saw it. I thought it had some funny parts; although it wouldn’t probably amuse everyone. Not a movie for kiddos though.

Around the same time, the parasite diet came into vogue. Some people actually ingested tapeworm eggs in an attempt to lose weight- Eww! It was rumored that Maria Callas, the famous Greek soprano did just that in the 1950′s, after she lost 80 pounds. The idea of intentionally having a worm grow in your body creeps me out more than I can describe.  Of course there were also those who thought that smoking cigarettes would keep you thin. (Check out the tiny type at the bottom of the ad- No throat irritation-No cough).

Anyway, I’m just about ready to climb back up on that wagon again. I expect I’ll be seeing some of you when I get there. If you get there first, please save me a seat.

When I was a semi-young mom (I had Brett when I was 31, Amanda at 33.) poop talk was not unusual. If you met with your friends back then, someone was always talking about their kids diaper rash, diarrhea or constipation-almost every mom I knew had those small glycerin suppositories at the ready should their little one need it. Brett was actually hospitalized when he was less than a year old because of diarrhea caused by Rotovirus. My friend Rosie actually left Ryan crawl around sans diaper for awhile in attempt to get his diaper rash healed. (That always seemed ill-advised to me for obvious reasons.)

Once my kids were potty trained I kinda thought poop talk would be a thing of the past. I mean adults really don’t talk about it much. If you have a problem as an adult you either wolf down some Immodium or a big bowl of prunes. (Depending on which problem you have.) Thanks to Dr. Oz though poop has been brought to the forefront again. Of course, Dr. Oz wasn’t the first doctor to be focused on our poop. Dr. Kellogg, founder of the Battle Creek Sanitarium in Battle Creek, MI was all about the poop. There was a movie spoofing him called The Road to Wellville. It has some parts that are really funny, some really bizarre. (Not a movie for the kiddos.)

Anyway, according to Dr. Oz, our poop should “enter the water like a cliff diver in Acapulco.” Until I saw Dr. Oz I never, ever, would have thought about that. Although as I am getting older I’m realizing that the whole poop thing should be more of a concern to me than it once was, since apparently it can signal  a plethora of health problems. I must be more vigilant! At any rate here is a link for those who really want to know more about this. Oprah slideshow