I ran yesterday and I passed 5 blonde haired women and 2  brunettes. One blonde said hello to me (I know her so it doesn't really count). Of the four others, only one nodded a greeting. She was easily past 60 and her hair was no longer naturally blonde so I'm not really sure she can count either. The 2 brunettes looked at me and one smiled, one nodded. The 3 remaining blondes though avoided eye contact. One looked straight up in the sky as I passed her. I looked too just in case there was a UFO or something interesting to see. But there was nothing more than the overcast sky. Before I approached her she was looking straight ahead, so I waved and nodded. That's when she looked up. The other two were walking together. I passed them from behind and looked over to nod my greeting. They both looked right at me and continued their conversation as though I had made to attempt at civility. I soon got to my turn-around point so I passed them again, this time head on. I thought I'd try the friendly thing again (that's just how I roll) but instead of looking at me as I passed within 2 feet of them, they both looked off to the right avoiding all eye contact. So, is it a blonde thing. Are brunettes friendlier? Are we more sure of ourselves and therefore able to see the fellow runner/walker as a sister in exercise rather than a competitor or perhaps someone to be ignored. I certainly will be conducting further research into this. I wish I had recorded the hair color of the people who ignored me last time I rode on the trail. Maybe I should call Cambridge University. I think I'm onto something here.

Shut UP!!!

My darling husband and I went to lunch together yesterday at San Sushi II in Towson. We came in from the freezing cold to  be seated at a cozy corner table. We ordered hot tea and soup and were soon sipping the warmth. It was lunch time and the place was pretty crowded but being seated in the sushi bar area is not too noisy as the padded walls absorb so much of the sound. There were two business men having lunch behind us. I hardly noticed them as they were not the type to yell their conversation, rather they sat conversing in quiet tones. Frank and I were having a nice quiet conversation of our own. 

And then, the loudest most obnoxious ring tone was heard. I wasn't sure where it was coming from at first as no one was moving to answer it. Then, slowly business man #1 dipped into his pleated khaki pocket and drew out the still-ringing phone. He looked at it and said,"Ugh." He continued looking at it as it continued it's nerve-jangling sound. He finally decided to answer it on the 5th ring. But the noise did not stop there. Oh no. He took on a completely different vocal quality from his conversation with his dining partner. I'm pretty sure the guys in the kitchen could hear him over the clanging and banging of pots and pans. He informed his caller that he was at lunch and I thought that would perhaps be the end of it. But he kept on talking. The conversation was not about any emergency. Children were not dying and he certainly was not a brain surgeon needed back at the hospital stat. He was making arrangements to watch a movie with this person later. And he would be sure to call him back as soon as lunch was over and he got back to his office so they could firm up their plans because that's what he was doing. "Yeah, I'm going back to the office. Are you going to be around? OK I'll call you when I get back to my office."

Maybe I was supposed to be impressed that he had an office. I'm not really sure. But I couldn't wait for him to get off the phone. He was talking so loudly that Frank and I were unable to continue our conversation. It was terribly distracting. Then, after a few assurances of calling back later. He hung up. He and businessman #2 chuckled a little about the caller and then went right back to a normal toned conversation. Which was great as Frank and I were then able to continue our conversation. Of course, I was inclined to talk about how irritating it is when people talk so loudly on their phones. And how annoying it is that people don't put their phones on vibrate when in a restaurant. And how I can't understand why people don't just ignore the call. 

I have been in the situation before where I've needed to use the phone when in a public place. If I can't ignore it, I excuse myself and go to an anteroom or outside. And if I were to answer in a restaurant at the table, I would certainly do so in the quietest tone I could. I don't really have a problem with people talking on their phones in public. My real problem is why they feel the need to raise their voice to talk. It's a phone, right next to the mouth. No yelling is really necessary.  I could understand if the phone were across the room. But it's right there connected to your face!!!!

Phew. I'm glad I have this forum to vent about things that piss me off. So, when I rule the world there will be punishments for people who use heir phones in a rude manner. It will be completely acceptable for me to do what I wanted to do when BM#1 answered him phone: Take his phone, hang up the call and yell,"Shut up." in his face. Perhaps it will even be legal to confiscate the phone of an obnoxious user. Kind of a modern-day stock. The offender will be publicly humiliated, condemned by his peers and unable to offend again without the cost of replacing the phone. I think that it would only take one confiscation to make someone really think long and hard about answering and talking loudly. Ah, I can dream can't I? 

Mi Fit

Now that the house is back together after a whirlwind Christmas/Vacation period I thought it was time to get this body back in shape. I could go to the gym but the thought of running indoors on a treadmill depresses me a bit. So I cracked open the Wii Fit Santa brought to us. I set up my profile and took the Body Fit test. This test rates your balance, BMI, weight and gives you your Wii Fit Age. I'm happy to say I'm 35 in Wii Fit years. I don't like that I'm only a pound or two away from being overweight though according to my BMI. I think Wii Fit is putting a little too much stock in the BMI. I'm not sure that's so accurate a measure as it does not take into account fat vs. muscle. But I now have a baseline from which to measure my progress. And I have a real way to track my workouts. each time you "play" Wii Fit, your minutes are charted on a graph. And if you miss a day, the animated balance board will give you crap for it. I worked out two days and took a day off. When I turned it on on the 4th day the board asked, "Too tired to work out yesterday?" I love it. A smart ass computer to motivate me.

In addition to the Body Fit test there are 4 Training Categories : Yoga, Strength Training, Aerobics and Balance Games. For the Yoga and Strength Training you are given a trainer who shows you how to do each move and encourages you and gently tells you improvement is needed. For example, I suck at pushups and after I did what I thought was a good job on the pushup move she said, "I can see you're not quite strong enough for this move yet. Keep working out to improve your strength." Well, I'll show her. And I have. I no longer cheat and do my push ups with my knees on the floor.  You see, the balance board is constantly measuring the weight and when I was on my knees, it knew and wouldn't credit me for having done the pushup. They aren't pretty push ups, but I do get credit for them now. 

Another good motivator is the Piggy Bank. For each move or game you play you are awarded credits. These credits unlock new games, moves or increased reps or activity levels. As I run through all the Yoga moves, I may unlock a new balance game. I was overjoyed yesterday when I unlocked Snow Boarding. Frank asked if he could try it. "Oh, no," said I. Only I have unlocked it. And if he got on the board pretending to be me, it wouldn't work. So of course I gloated about all the games I had unlocked already and got the reaction I wanted. Frank signed on and registered his Mi. Now, he and I have a healthy competition. The Wii Fit tracks the standings of all the games for all the Mis registered. So we are now trying to knock each other out of first place in all the games and yoga moves. In fact, Colson topped my Hula Hoop status today and I can't wait to get back up there and kick his butt! 

All this competition can only be good for us. I know I feel good. I've got muscle pain in my abs and thighs that I have not felt in a while.

I think this Wii Fit is going to be a good thing and I hope I stick with it. The competition within the family and the encouragement from my trainer should be enough to keep me interested. And, I've still got a lot of games to unlock and master. I'll keep you posted.

There's thumbthing about camping

This past summer was the annual Vaeth family trek to Rocky Gap State Park - a 5-day camping trip. Our first day was filled with traveling and setting up and a late evening crab feast down by the lake. The crabs were full, the beer was cold and the glow sticks were bright (even though they did get stuck in the trees). Thursday was overcast and rainy. Bella's bike had a blow out and we decided to head to Walmart to get her a new bike as the old one was really getting too small for her.
The Walmart trip was pretty non-eventful. Bella rode her bike around the store as we shopped and Ian got lost for 15 seconds.
When we got back to camp it was raining and that put a damper on things. Suddenly, things got a little more exciting. Walter ran over to our site to let us know that Sue had a terrible accident. Sue yelled,"It's not a big deal." Walter then told us that Sue had cut off the end of her thumb and he was taking her to the hospital to have it reattached. I was a little surprised when Sue came over smiling and laughing and asking if I wanted to see it. Of course I did. I had expected her to take off her bandage to show me a thumb tip badly cut. What I wasn't expecting was her handing me a plastic baggie with ice and a paper towel in it. I was a little grossed out but eagerly took the baggie from her, opened the towel and screeched when I saw the tip of Sue's  thumb with the nail still attached right there in the paper towel. Eeew!!
Long story short, they reattached it. Call her for the gruesome details that are too much for me to repeat here.
Needless to say, the tip and thumb jokes started before she even returned from the hospital. But when she did, each time you'd ask how she was, she'd give a thumbs-up. Of course she couldn't help it considering how her thumb was wrapped - in white gauze 3x normal size - kind of cartoonish.
The next day was again uneventful as far as injuries. A bunch of us took a ride on the Cumberland Railroad on an old steam train to Frostburg. It was a cool ride. We went to the first car on the way up and stood in the vestibule and found ourselves covered in soot. Anna even had it in her belly-button. On the way back, we hung out in the vestibule of the last car. It rained again on the way home.
Saturday was finally a beautiful day, sunny and warm and we hung out at the beach. We rented a canoe and Bella, Frank and I took a trip and saw lots of turtles, ducks fish and birds. Colson had a great "Colson" day; he played volley ball, football, and hung out with the big kids, went mountain biking and got to eat more s'mores. In the evening, after dinner I started thinking about the evening's fire. I coerced the youngsters into going to fetch fire wood. I got the money for the wood out the Pilot and as I closed the door I suddenly realized my right thumb was closed in the door. Ouch is not the right word. I was speechless and couldn't breathe. Unfortunately, I also couldn't talk and I just breathed heavily as I tried not to cuss in front of the children and fell onto the ground. Sophie seemed to understand something was odd about my behavior and came over to see if I was OK. I still could not speak but she saw the blood and went to fetch ice and paper towels (very calmly I may add).
Turns out it hurt like mad but the cut was not deep and nothing seemed to be broken. I wrapped it in towels and ice while it swelled and slowly calmed down. As family members mingled from camp to camp, the news of another thumb injury spread. Of course, more jokes came. 

Sue was not at camp during my injury but when she came back she visited me and we thumbs-upped each other. And made some lame thumb injury puns. Laughter really is the best medicine. That and vodka. I did make a drink for myself. That and the ibuprofin had me feeling better in no time. 

So now it's 3 months later. Sues nail came off but the scar looks great and things seem to be healing very nicely. I lost half of my nail but it's growing back. I have a small scar too but nothing compared to Sue's. Mine would be much better had I not caught it in the mouse trap last week, but that's just just how I roll. Being injured is just a way of life.

Hopefully, our next camping trip won't be so injurious. At least no one died this time. But that's another story I'll tell later. Here is the teaser - It's best not to ignore the sound of human suffering in the woods in the middle of the night.  Someone just might end up dead.

They're not Indoor Mousers....

I was sitting in the dining room a few days back when, from the corner of my eye, I spied a mouse creep from under the refrigerator and scurry over to the cat food dishes. I jumped and yelled at it. It hightailed back under the fridge. A few minutes later, the mouse repeated his trip. I yelled and threw something at it. Again, it cowered under the fridge. I knew this method would not solve my newfound rodent problem. So I went upstairs and found Tiger sleeping on my bed. "We have a mouse in the kitchen" I told her. She looked at me through sleepy eyes, put her paw over her face to block the light I had just flicked on and went back to sleep. Apparently, she is in a union and this was her break time.

So back to the kitchen for me. I remembered we had a mouse problem two years ago and thought we may still have some traps left over. I found them and set to work baiting them. One is a nice trap that only cages them. So I set that one with a little peanut butter and put it next to the fridge. The next was a little more sophisticated. It's an enclosed spring trap, basically like to old fashioned type you see on "Tom and Jerry". I'm afraid of this kind so I picked it up very gingerly and SNAP! It closed right on my thumb - the one with no nail from when I slammed my thumb in the car door this past summer. A few swear words later I was calm enough to figure how to bait it without further injury to myself. I put in some peanut butter, set it and put it on the other side of the fridge.

As always when at war, it's best to use all the weapons in your arsenal so I also put a few glue traps under the refrigerator.  Now I felt well protected from any advancement the mice may make from their new home in the crawl space under the fridge, so i set about my day. Upon returning home, there were no mice in the traps. I have to admit I was a little disappointed. I must have really scared the poor thing when I yelled at it earlier. Either that or he was building his own army. (And to Sue and other feminists, it's a he because that makes it easier somehow for me to kill them. There's still a part of me that thinks there are adorable little mommy mice in pink calico dresses rocking mice babies in walnut shells living in the walls.)

The evening arrived with no sign of mice. We ate dinner and the kids went to bed. I was sitting quietly in the dining room on the computer when I heard a snap. Jerry heard it too because before I could even get into the kitchen, he was at the mouse trap. He had the top off and was now walking around the house with the mouse in his mouth. The mouse in the trap in his mouth! That was probably one of the funniest things I have ever seen.  I tried to help Jerry out by taking the trap away from him to let the mouse out for him to play with. (Imagine the shame he would feel if the other cats in the neighborhood knew he used traps to catch mice!) He would not let me near him though. Each time I tried, he would growl a low intimidating growl at me. Tiger tried too and was growled at. By this time, Colson was downstairs joining in the fun but he got growled at too. So, we let Jerry prance around the house for a while with his treasure until he tired of it. I carefully took the trap away and released the now dead mouse. Jerry lost interest in it very soon. Then Tiger knocked it around for a minute until I got too grossed out by it. So I picked it up with a paper towel. Of course Colson wanted to see it so I showed it to him. He remarked on how big the eyes were. I guys they pop out a little when their necks are crushed. I tried to shake off the bad feelings I had about causing so much pain to a little critter, then I thought about mouse poop in my house and I didn't feel badly anymore. So I threw it in the trash and reset the trap.

While I was sleeping later that night I heard a commotion downstairs. I went into the kitchen and found Jerry under the table with a mouse in his mouth...in a glue trap. Again, I tried to get it away and was rebuffed. But I persevered. I was afraid Jerry would get stuck in the glue too. I picked up the trap with the wriggling mouse and wasn't sure what to do with it. I was a little groggy still from having just awakened so I just pitched it in the trash thinking it would die soon enough.

I went back to bed and after another hour or two of sleep heard that distinctive snap again. This noise no longer aroused any interest from the cats so I went down to a mouse filled trap. When I went to the cabinet where my trash can is kept to dispose of the creature, I was surprised to see a live mouse scurrying around the floor of the cabinet. I slammed the door shut and panicked. How could I trap him. I couldn't just let him escape. Although I was proud of him in a way for being able to wiggle out of the glue and get out of the trash can. So I just opened the cabinet and let him run back under the fridge. 

So, I've got two confirmed kills and haven't seen any mice for a day and a half. Maybe they've found a new home. Maybe they are scheming a way around the traps. Maybe they are in peanut butter rehab learning how to avoid the lure of fresh roasted peanuts for the safer cat food. Either way, I'll be ready with my traps cause I know my two felines will be of no use. And that's the craziest part of the whole story. My yard is littered with skeletal remains of mice, moles, voles, chipmunks, snakes, rabbits (although no heads have yet been found) and squirrels. There are fresh dead things almost every day on the deck, porch or driveway. I've even had nightmares of a Poltergeist type situation where small skeletons pop out of the lawn and steal my children. 

That makes me wonder though if perhaps there is a deal my cats have made of which I am unaware. Why else would I have to trap the mice?  Why else would they wait until the mice are in the traps to play with them? Maybe there is something to that union idea. Maybe I should have adopted cats belonging to the indoor mousers union. I guess I'll never know. 

 

And I Ran...

I was working at University of Maryland this morning (with Gary Williams) on an UnderArmour commercial. I was involved in dressing some very muscular athletes and wetting them down to make them sweaty. They were jogging in place and doing push-ups to pump themselves up before each take (testosterone city!) and I began feeling very antsy. I wanted so badly to work out right then and there. Of course the cashmere sweater and wedges I was wearing prevented me from going at it right then, but I was very inspired to exercise by the time I was off work (which was only 5 hours after I went in). So I came home, checked email, facebooked for a few minutes and talk on the phone. The urge to move was still there so I got on my workout gear, dusted off my weights and did a nice 30 minute strength workout. 

It was nearing time to pick up the kids so I thought I would first walk my old running route before heading up to school. I power walked up and down the first hill and felt invigorated.  I continued walking up the second hill and as I got to a nice flat spot I began to jog. It felt pretty good so I picked up the pace a little. Before I knew it I was running. Wow, it was great to feel the pounding of my feet on the pavement, to feel the wind in my ears, to get into a rhythm of pumping arms, breathing in, breathing out, step, step, step. 

I thought I'd just go a few blocks but there was no real pain so I kept going. I continued to run past my turn around spot and kept on running. I figured I'd get to the upcoming hill and take it back to a fast walk. But at the base of the hill I still felt great so I charged it. I made it all the way to the top and then some. Then, I felt a little ache and slowed it down.  I turned around and walked back to the school. I was sweaty, tired, winded and sore and I felt terrific. 

I'm probably going to pay for that run tomorrow in aches and pains in my knee. Judging from the way it feels now I'm going to need a little ibuprofin and ice tonight. But no matter what it feels like now I feel renewed. It's been 5 months since I've been for a run. 5 long months. I'll take a few days to recover before I try again. I'll strengthen it a little more and take some bike rides. But I'm definitely running again. 

 

Thoughts on Love while Missing Frank...

Did you ever wonder why we get so lost in love stories? Is it because we wish ordinary life were so exciting? Does anyone really ever fall in love like they do in the movies? Probably not, and that is why we keep going back for more. If it ever really happened that way to us, we wouldn't need to keep watching the next one. No one wants to see their own lives rerun. 

But real life is not the same. It's better. Who has the energy anyway for the way it is when you first fall in love?  Or is it lust? Really, we think it's love at the start but that's not what love is about. Love is discovery, knowledge and trust. Those cannot be gained in hours or days. Love takes time and insight. Then the real deal happens. I think the best passion is gained only after time. Looking back upon my greatest love affair (the one I'm still in) I can see how it has only gotten better with time. When someone has seen every side of you, every emotion good and bad, and they still stand by you, that's real. When everything you do and say is a result of your consideration of your mate, that's true love. When good thing and bad happen to me, I immediately think of sharing them with Frank. I know he'll laugh or cry with me, praise me or give me an idea what I could do to make it better. And that's better than any movie I've seen or book I've read. Although, I guess I'll keep watching and reading. And still I'll know that in the end, I've got the best story out there.