If you need mileposts to mark your life, I guess years are a convenient way to measure it. As Jimmy Buffet said “Spinning around in circles – Living it day to day – 24 hours maybe 60 good years – it’s really not that long a stay”. (Cowboy in the Jungle). So just off 365 spins and another circle around the sun here I am back at the start/finish line of years. This will be the 2025th lap the earth has taken since the Christians took over counting. There are a lot more laps completed but we count them backwards from the beginning of this calendar. I don’t make the rules.

I tend to measure my time in eras rather than years. The year thing is too rigid to apply to a life. That’s for the planners, calculators, and record keepers. I can’t tell you how much time I spend trying to figure out what year I did something. It’s the same process every time; find a thing that I remember the year it happened; from there start the process of putting things in order and connecting dots until I can come to the thing I was trying to remember, in the first place. It can take awhile sometimes.

For now 2024 is a clear memory and will mark the end of a couple of eras and a unique beginning of another era. We lost 2 of our boxers which is a significant hit to our entire clan. Although living in different households and even different states, our family all know each dog personally and they are all part f our whole family unit. We all grieve our own and each others losses. Early in the year we said goodbye to Daphne and then at year’s end we said goodbye to Harry. Each carried their own legacy and established their own era.

The other significant event was both end and beginning. A cancer diagnosis hits hard but it is not the end. I can’t help but reflect on the past and comtemplate the future. At the very least, I end up with “how did I get here” and “where am I going”. What ended isn’t completely clear yet, as I continue to assess damages and measure impacts. Recovery is the beginning. Not unfamiliar territory to me.

So, if New Years is to be a milestone, it will mark the beginning of another era in my life. I’m not particularly happy to say goodbye to 2024 anymore than any other year. In review, my blessings and good fortune still outnumbered the misfortune and disappointments by a lot. I expect that to continue through this next lap. Just another trip around the sun and just like JB’s Cowboy in the Jungle, I’m going to:

Roll with the punches
Play all of my hunches
Make the best of whatever comes my way
What I lack in ambition
I’ll make up with intuition
Plowing straight ahead come what may

Jimmy Buffett
Son of a Sailor 1978

Staying in the moment – I suck at it! For years I’ve gotten up somewhere between 3am and 5 am to get my body working and grab my morning endorphin fix. These days, it’s an extended commute to the Sheriff’s Office. Not particularly challenging. Mostly involves avoiding scurrying nocturnal creatures; not being a target for sleepy or drunk drivers; staying alert for debris and fallen limbs; dodging the occasional vagabonds and villains; and not pissing off end-of-watch patrol officers and security guards or giving them reason to stop me. Admittedly there’ve been mornings when I’ve made the trip completely mindlessly. It’s an effort to stay on my bike and in the moment mentally.

One morning this week I again proved my incompetence at staying in the moment. Took a loop, off the main route. Down past the parking garages, under the pedestrian walkway, take a right at Emily’s Diner across from the bus depot, miss the pothole (which is “in the groove” for a turning bike), miss the second pothole, cross the street, pass the receiving areas for the  Ft Harrison Hotel, wave to security, round the corner, up past the police department and back onto the trail. Those potholes are likely portals to hell. We have them here in Florida. They help God thin the herd. You can avoid them, but if it’s your time? A sinkhole might just open under your bedroom and – see ya!!!!  If you miss your portal – there are a bunch of other options to keep you on schedule. Alligators and our interstate highways are two good examples. You must stay alert down here… I didn’t.

Rounding the corner at Emily’s and the bus depot, I noticed a bus just pulling into the depot. I usually only catch the dark shadows of the Samurai and Ninja looking people waiting for the buses or sleeping on the benches, but I was off my normal schedule. The bus had murals and I was checking to see what the mural was and…. FLASH MESSAGE TO LLOYD: POTHOLE!!!!! This particular crater is about 3 ft wide and only God knows how deep.  I’m not sure it even has a bottom. It’s a wheel grabber, soul stealer that will easily swallow my front wheel, and send me headfirst to my grave. First off, apologies to anyone in central Florida awakened by a loud scream at around 0445 last Wednesday morning. My last thought was – “Shit! I’m gonna meet Jesus in these silly bike shorts, a neon green shirt, and a pirate doo-rag – I hope he didn’t hear what I screamed” I KNEW that would be my last word…I KNEW IT!. I hit the hole with both wheels and oddly things DID NOT go dark. Thinking – “Geeze this is really how it ends huh? It’s not as hot as I thought it would be.”  I turned around to see if I was lying on the pavement behind me while my spirit rode on to heaven. Not positive I’m going there, depends on which Uber I get – the Prius driven by the guy in white robe and sandals with Yanni music playing softly or the ’72 Plymouth with Ozzy Osborn’s Crazy Train blaring and Charley Manson at the wheel – TBD.  Meanwhile – remember that SECOND POTHOLE? I didn’t either.  Again, I must apologize to all who heard those screams.

I waited for the sound of hissing air leaving my tires or the thump of a broken rim. Took inventory of my body: Head, shoulders, knees, and toes (now you say, “KNEES AND TOES!”). No broken bones or lacerations – everything seemed fine – except maybe the unmentionables…. you know… the boys, the twins, the nads, the kahunas. They were screaming “DON’T EVER DO THAT AGAIN!” I want the video – the instant replay.  I’m claiming it as a “meant to do that” skill moment, I can’t tell you what I did to avoid the ambulance ride; or how I’m here telling this story instead of lying in a bed having Sparky wiping away my drool and feeding me baby food.  How I’m telling it is: “I jumped over that portal to hell and laughed at the second one!” I think I’m ready for the Grand Canyon – maybe Evil Knievel didn’t make it, but he ain’t me!

BODY: you’ve been pretty good at moderation lately

ME: thank you, it’s an effort

BODY: last week of Feb huh?

ME: yup – trying to close those rings!

BODY: remember the definition of “binging” and how you have to keep that under control?

ME: maaaaaybe

BODY: go ahead and move your leg to get out of bed

ME: AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!! CRAMP!!!! MAKE IT STOP!!!

BODY: releases my inner thigh/ groin muscle

ME: why did you do that?

BODY: why did you bike a kajillion miles, walk/ jog, hit the gym, and THEN? Walk from Clearwater to Indian Rocks on the beach?

ME: If you would quit being so stubborn and dump the smooth outer covering of jello and get my muscles swole….

BODY: Your old

ME: Y-O-U apostrophy R-E…….AAAAAHHHHHHGGGGGG!!!!! MY CALF!!!!! RELEASE MY CALF!!!!!

BODY: Wait ‘til you step down on those feet! Thought it was cool to walk miles on the beach barefooted huh?

ME: Those shells were tough and scraping along on the pavement wasn’t a good way to finish

BODY: You’ll find out when those stumps hit the floor.

ME: Toppling from the bed to the dresser and pulling myself into the shower – I NEED A WHEELCHAIR!

BODY: but you closed those exercise goals for Feb out huh?

ME: it’s March now – new month new goals

BODY: you won’t be riding far today – note that – March 1^st sore and can’t move freely

ME: you can’t stop me

BODY: silly fool

ME: cutting my morning ride short – legs are spaghetti, feet are on fire and cramping, and I think I got pneumonia – I’m toast

BODY: YOU’RE

Well, here we go again. Same theme, different day, and year! It’s not that I don’t write, it’s that I write in silly places about silly things. Ahhhh – social media. Easier to shoot a quick meme and smart-assed comments than to sit down here and post substance.

I thought writing it down would help make sure I do it. So, somewhere buried in previous attempts there’s likely written commitment to writing regularly on this blog. I probably avoided setting any defined interval because – well that would make me crazy and obligated. I suppose I could do it now but….I’m a procrastinator – maybe later.

My posts seem heavily weighted toward the spring/ summer months. There’s a couple made outside of those seasons but for some reason most come between January and August. Maybe it’s the time of year – which rings in my head…

Woodstock

Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

Well, I came upon a child of God
He was walking along the road
And I asked him, “Tell me, where are you going?”
And this he told me
Said, “I’m going down to Yasgur’s Farm
Gonna join in a rock ‘n’ roll band
Got to get back to the land
Set my soul free”

We are stardust, we are golden
We are billion-year-old carbon
And we’ve got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

Well, then can I walk beside you?
I have come to lose the smog
And I feel myself a cog
In somethin’ turning
And maybe it’s the time of year
Yes, and maybe it’s the time of man
And I don’t know who I am
But life is for learninge are stardust, we are golden
We are billion-year-old carbon
And we got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

We are stardust, we are golden
We are billion-year-old carbon
And we got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

By the time we got to Woodstock
We were half a million strong
And everywhere was a song
And a celebration

And I dreamed I saw the bomber jet planes
Riding shotgun in the sky
Turning into butterflies
Above our nation

We are stardust, we are golden
We are caught in the devil’s bargain
And we’ve got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

And there’s a glimpse into how my brain works. It wasn’t a huge leap from lack of dedication to writing in this blog – to 1969! It was the “maybe it’s the time of year” thing – I couldn’t stop hearing it. OK boomer. For a suck-ass generation, we sure pulled off a lot of cool stuff. I’m stuck now thinking how cool I am.

That’s all I got today – but at least I wrote. More later…..

Balance, pedal, breathe

Overrun by tribulation, affliction, and  disorder
Caught up in in overreacting and  overthinking
Suffocating in stress, anxiety, and pain
Desperate to get back to now

Balance, pedal, breathe

Centered, calm, and composed, positioned to go forward
Seeking now – the moment I’m in
Focused forward and moving ahead
Nimbly holding a line to keep from crashing

Pedal, breathe, balance

Pushing hard as I go
Unwinding the tension of the day through the pedals
Rounding my strokes to a steady cadence
Pushing until I’m spinning free of my burden

Breathe, balance, pedal

Pulling in the fresh air around me
Pushing out the staleness inside me
Settle my breaths into a rhythm
Breathing to the balance of effort, cadence, and rhythm

Balance, pedal, breathe

Mind, body, and soul
Working in concordance, perfectly balanced
Complimenting and supporting toward a single purpose
Keeping me pushing ahead toward now

Pedal, Breathe, balance

Pedal hard and fast
Let the sun burn off the fog of chaos and uncertainty
Let the wind carry off the debris of useless worry
Let the pain and effort unify scattered energy and refocus thoughts

Breathe, balance, pedal

Breathing marks the speed of my life
Breathing sets the pace of my movement
Breathing holds me back or sets me free
Pacing fast and breathing free, moving forward unburdened

Balance, pedal, breathe

Balance over the wheels
Crank on the pedals
Breathe at the rhythm of the ride
Attack the hills, surf the downside, swim in the endorphins, purge the stress, mind the peace, race to nowhere

I was driven to find my “IT” while stalled in meeting some difficult challenges.  Retirement from a long time occupation took me away from the culture, norms, lifestyle, and people I’d been with for all of my adult life.  Relocation, integration, assimilation, re-education, isolation, all came at once. Lost myself – or at least the definition of myself.  All that I used as my previous “IT” was now gone. In the military – my “IT” was handed to me.  Goals and objectives were generally clear and concise. My personal “IT” was dictated by the culture and my job. The military is full of mission statements, tag lines, mottos, and motivational sayings. It’s simple to adapt these and adopt them for personal use.  Mostly my “IT” was to be the best Coast Guardsman I could be and that covered most every aspect of my life.  Once that was gone, I was left to set my own “IT”.  To grab something new that would give a reason to get out of bed every day; motivate me to get dressed; and drive me to do something useful.

Faced with a smattering of crises over a few years post-military, I worked through them using some of my previous motivations and drivers. Useful, but not ideal.  More and more I was feeling directionless, unmotivated, and irrelevant. The last straw was major surgery – which could potentially render me physically useless.  Let’s not forget age; that merciless toll-taker, demanding payment in physical and mental abilities. Time marches on – no matter what we’re doing.  Don’t get me wrong – I have plenty of blessings and a lot of love in my life that provide motivation enough to keep plowing ahead. There’s plenty of wood for the fire – but I just needed some gas to get things going.  My wife, family, friends, dogs, and bikes are reason enough to get up but –  what do I do FOR them, WITH them, ABOUT them? To be a good Coast Guardsman was a defined vision. I needed finite skills to master my job. I needed  fitness and stamina to meet the physical demands. I needed mental and emotional focus to endure the pressures. It’s much harder to picture  the demands and mission of being a father, brother, friend,  and co-worker.  While I was active duty – my Coast Guard “IT” covered me for all of that.  When I got up and laced up my running shoes, I was running for the Coast Guard AND my family, friends, dogs, and country! Now, though – I was  not held to specific measurable standards and there was no a hard definition to the whole thing – it was too abstract. 

The time came to figure this out. I started looking for some advice and counsel on re-purposing an old sailor. Surgery happened and it was a punch that I was determined to take standing up.  I set my outlook to it being a new beginning; a do-over. I was set on coming back stronger and better. In that vein, I was looking for some rehab motivation and counsel. The physical part was easy but I wasn’t prepared for the mental aspect. I was lacking a spark, and accelerant, a vision to give me purpose. I’m already a GREAT husband, father, friend, and general human being – so no need for improvement there (my essay – must be true). BUT I was unsure about what to do after my feet hit the floor in the morning. Then, a thing happened that shook me. We were on a walk (the essence of surgical rehab) and at one point we had to cross a busy road at a marked crosswalk. As we stepped out into the road it was obvious an approaching car had no intentions of stopping, even with us in the crosswalk and the lights flashing.  I just stood facing the car with my arms out.  The driver and her passenger/ boyfriend took exception to my display and although she stopped, her passenger was angry and yelling at me.  Normally I’m all-in for that type of thing – especially when defending my wife. This time though – I got nervous – and instead of inviting the moron to bring it, I laughed it off and waved them away, while hoping that the car wouldn’t follow us to the parking lot and escalate. I could do NOTHING. Couldn’t raise my arms above my waste, lift anything, get angry, nothing. I’d used a good portion of my energy getting that far and it hurt to even raise my arms at them.  At that point I was completely vulnerable and helpless. Couldn’t defend or protect what I loved. I was irrelevant.

That was the epiphany.   I needed sharper focus – an organized method to achievement of a defined purpose. Time to stop fretting and whining about it and DO something.  “This I will defend” sounds dramatic and prolific – until you start thinking about how, from what, and with what? I needed an action plan to get there.  While perusing books from favorite authors,  I found a good way to pare it down. It was out of a fitness book , Every Day is Game Day by Mark Verstegen.  The exercise was mainly designed to set your fitness philosophy but I found that it would work across several domains.  Setting my sights on being relevant and useful, I set out to define Verstegen’s “IT” for   myself. This I will defend…and here’s how.

If you find yourself adrift and wondering what’s next, it’s time to assess where you are and where you want to be. Find your plan and get on with it. it doesn’t matter if you use a fitness book or website. Write it down – make yourself think about it. Here’s a good method from DR. Julie Conner’s blog: https://drjulieconnor.com/write-a-personal-purpose-statement/. Find something that suits you and do it.

“I was luffing, sitting head-up into the wind with no sure course to steer for any destination. I came off a sure and steady track to arrive at a waypoint beyond which no trackline had been drawn. No mission was detailed, no orders issued, no operation plan laid down. Relieved of my duties, I was free to sail on in any direction to a destination of my choice. It was not time to call for help. It was not time to abandon ship. In fact, it was time to to take true command and set off on a voyage of the heart. I have laid out my track, gave the wheel a turn, and pushed ahead on the throttles. Underway as before….” Lloyd Pierce 2020

Relentless pursuit of resilience

Relentless – dogged, determined, unflinching, unappeasable, unyielding. Relentless: Michael Jordan with a basketball; Jason Pierre Paul chasing a quarterback; Mother Theresa defending the poor; Nelson Mandela standing up for equality; a mother protecting her child; a lion chasing its prey.  Relentless is – teeth clenched, fists balled, heart pumping, all pistons firing – push to a goal. Relentless is – move or get run over, don’t get between me and what I want. Relentless is awake at 5 AM and getting out to chase a dream. Relentless is studying, practicing, eating, sleeping, drinking, and repeating in chasing a dream. Relentless is passion.

Resilience – potency, power strength, persistence, flexibility, adaptability, malleability. Bounce back, come back, stand up, recover, rehabilitate, survive.  Standing firm, arms crossed, smirking – come at me, bring it! Knock me down – I’ll get back up. Break me and I’ll come back stronger. Put me in a storm and watch me come out the other side.

Relentless pursuit of resilience is my “IT”.  It’s my defining purpose, my driving force. If you see me running and sweating, or calculating calories, or reading and writing, pretty much anything I’m doing – it is in my relentless pursuit of resilience. It’s what I think about while warming up or before clipping into my bike. It’s what drives me to grab a weight bar. It’s what makes me go back and read something again and again – to make sure I get it.

The relentless part explains itself.  Resilience is the most vital property of my life. If I can’t adapt; if I can’t bounce back; if I can’t recover, I can’t survive.  In pursuing resilience, I am pursuing survival. That needs to be a relentless endeavor.

Resilience is bounce-back and adaptability. It’s the ability to take a punch and stay in the fight. To fall down and get back up. To change the rules and adapt. My resilience stretches beyond the physical domain and includes emotional, spiritual, and financial. Each domain requires work to keep sharp. Resilience goes well beyond merely throwing up weights and ticking off miles.

My resilience is directly linked to my partner’s resilience. That connection is an open line – with each of us bolstering, leaning, and guarding each other as needs arise.  An old Clint Black song – “Back to Back” – captures it pretty well:

“Behind every good man stands a good woman. Though they might be looking a different way. While she’s dealin’ with one thing. I’ve got another thing comin’. If I’m lookin’ at tomorrow, she’ll be thinkin’ ’bout yesterday. Back to back, we face each other. Still together all alone. We’d be the last to turn to one another.”

Cherry, pecan, chocolate, mince meat – there’s all varieties of pies out there (blueberry is the best though). It’s the same with the concept of stating a purpose or goal; there are infinite variations, applications, and names. Vision and mission statements, mottos, battle cries, slogans, jams… For my personal purposes, I use Mark Verstegen’s “IT” model – out of his book Every Day is Game Day.  My “IT is my purpose. Verstegen lays out an excellent exercise, in his book, to do some self-examination and evaluation. It got me to my “IT” – my motivator and driving force.

This is how I’ve chosen to slice MY pie. Everyone will see it differently. Your “IT” should be tailored to YOU and YOUR life. I certainly endorse resilience but that may not be what revs your engine. “IT” may not even be what you want to call your statement or war-cry. What’s your “IT”? It’s enlightening to take yourself through an exercise of self-examination and figuring out a direction and purpose – gives you a reason to put your feet on the floor every morning.

At least according to the person on the other end of the line. I’m incompetent, uncaring, selfish, arrogant, uneducated, stupid, lazy…..(I don’t think I got them all – feel free to add to the list). I’m a moron, an idiot, a nazi, a pansy-ass, a jackass, a loafer, and various things that I won’t repeat. YOU pay MY salary – so I should be at your service and at your mercy! You’re gonna have me fired – if I don’t do what you tell me!

I get up early every morning and go to work committed to doing the best job that I can to help people. I put in long, sometimes arduous, hours trying to connect people with the help they need, while also doing my part to contribute to my team effort. I am a public servant and always remember that – my job is to help the public. I understand that they pay taxes that go towards my paycheck – BUT – I also pay taxes that go toward my paycheck. (Funny huh? I pay my own salary and I don’t get to deduct any of it).

I do this job because it’s my passion. I am dedicated and passionate about public service. I do it because I understand it and know I can endure the rigors of it and the crap that goes along with it. My peers, with very few exceptions, are the same. We know we’re doing a job that most couldn’t and working to do the best with what we’ve got.

Here’s the thing. It doesn’t seem right, that during times of crisis, when we’re all under siege, we start attacking and blaming public servants because we’re not getting help as fast as we think we should. Imagine a business that normally serves 50 – 100 customers a day, with a staff of 3 or 4 (working at capacity), on 1 or two points of service/sales, and 1 or 2 phone lines. One day – 5000 people show up demanding product – NOW! Then more and more people keep lining up behind them. While the staff is being overwhelmed, people start demeaning the employees and talking them down. Weird huh? Along comes someone – demanding that they hire more help! BUT! Their job entails handling sensitive personal information (protected and governed by law and regulation) and requires background checks and a timely training process to master and do CORRECTLY. Imagine their point of service is only designed to handle their normal business load and tied to a server that can’t handle the additional load and is necessarily tied to a secure network. But all of a sudden, they and their employees are incompetent, uncaring, selfish, arrogant, uneducated, stupid, lazy, and incapable. Sad huh?

It’s starting to raise my hackles (I didn’t know exactly what that meant – Google!!! – I looked it up – you can too) listening to people starting to pick apart and demean government employees. Been doing this public service thing for a little while at several levels of government. Believe me – we are working our butts off trying to deliver what people need. We are as frustrated as everyone else and there’s a good chance we’re working overtime and some of us are risking exposure to the threat in doing our jobs. We didn’t suddenly become morons, idiots, nazis, a pansy-asses, a jackasses, or loafers. We’re experiencing most of the same problems and frustration as everyone else.

Not looking for any special recognition, compensation, or thanks. A little respect, common courtesy, and understanding goes a long way. You’ll get it from me whether you give it or not – it’s part of being a public servant.

Take care….we’re all in this together.

Wheeew!!! It’s been a minute since I last wrote. Like 6 years? It’s like a lifetime of shit has been slung into that ever-spinning fan since then. Finally came ashore, tried to settle down, life came at us CAT 5, and all we could do was secure the decks and hold on. If I painted a portrait of what life was like back in ’14 and edited it for time and changes, I’d be back to a blank canvas, except for Sparky and me standing there looking disheveled perplexed. Plans?

“A man may plan as much as he wants to, but nothing of consequence is likely to come of it until the magician circumstance steps in and takes the matter off his hands.” Mark Twain

We had plans… God laughed at us. Circumstance relieved us of any obligation to carry out any plans. Yet, we continue to plan….

‘The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.’ Albert Einstien

But if we quit planning, we’ll lose motivation and vision. Most importantly, we’ll lose hope. So we push forward insanely, God keeps laughing, and circumstances keep getting crazier.

Sparky and I are opposites in planning. My method is to throw out a broad concept and her’s is to break it down to the nittiest-grittiest pieces and what-if it to death. Like when we were retiring (a loooong time ago) – “What will we do when we retire?” My answer? “We’ll live in a house in Florida.” slap, slap, slap – that answers THAT! Sparky’s answer? “Where?, what street?, how many bedrooms?, how many bathrooms?, will our toilets be low flow?, what about if we get palmetto bugs?, I don’t have a weed whacker, what color should the bedspread be, will the front door open in or out….?” She’ll ponder each of those questions throughout each night – while I sleep peacefully. I’m a little better at accepting that circumstance is going to dictate most of these answers. Conversely, if Sparky didn’t do what she does, I’d likely find myself sitting on the toilet, surrounded by palmetto bugs, trying to order toilet paper online but not sure of my address, while Sparky was out directing the goats around the yard to the weed patches.

So what now? Every time we think we’ve seen it all? We haven’t. Every time we think – this is the worst? It isn’t. So far we’ve gotten pretty good at making lemonade – but we’re kinda feeling like we’re dancing to the devil’s tune just to survive!

I could say that this year is worse than last, was worse than the year before, which was worse than the year before… and on. In truth, we’re able to say that each year has been better. We’ve stayed hopeful and optimistic and found ways to weather each storm as it comes. Not sure how this one comes out, but I wasn’t sure about the last one either and it came out ok. Best we can do is stay resilient and have a plan. My plan is to make it through this damn lockdown. Sparky is worried about food, shelter, and all the rest….

I did a blog entry….I did my part! I’m hoping that my family and friends stay up and realize that things will get better. We’re living proof…and that’s a literal statement! We’ve had a few “So this is how it ends” moments over the last few years and we’re still here and still dancing. Turns out it wasn’t the end – just a challenge to get to the next level. We’ll get through this…

This is my second try at this month’s entry. The first bit of nonsense was lost as I went searching for something else. I left it right here in this block and when I came back – it was gone. Now I have to remember what it was about and rewrite it.

I remember that it was about the cold winter we’re having. I was whining about the snow that we’ve been getting since November. The ground has been covered nearly continuously since then. I was feeling sorry for our dogs who have to do their most private and personal (is personal a dog thing or would it be caninical?) business outdoors as we look on. Imagine having to do that on the end of a leash in snow up to your crotch. Sometimes they just stand in the snow and look up at me desparately like “Dude REALLY?” I admit that even though I understand their plight and feel sorry that they are out there in their bare paws (while I’m layer up and outfitted in wtaerproof boots), I still bitch at them to hurry up so I can get back in the warmth,

To repay me they often do their thing and then turn to run home. Not a big deal until you remember where there’s snow? There’s ice! I’ve become accustomed to creeping along like I’m 90 and taking little short steps to make sure I don’t fall. I don’t think I’ve taken an actaul adult sized step since October. I’ve never mastered the art of gracefully landing 200+ pounds of me and usually end in a full sack of potatoes splat on the ground. The dogs seem to have picked up on my ice-clumsiness and take some pleasure in pulling me along whilst I scream, teeter, and slip.

So winter is the big story this month. It seems to have us paralyzed and house-bound. It is getting irritating to get up every day and put on multiple layers of clothing. It’s old having to analyze every surface I’m about to step on. I’m tired of exposed skin hurting. Winter can be over anytime now.

So I think I’ve covered everything I had out down beofre I lost it. I’ve now established a new standard of consistency. I can now consider myself a monthly. With a bit more effort I might get down to bi-weekly. WHOA!!! That’s kind of scary to think about. That takes commitment and discipline. I have both of those things but choose to use them on other endeavors. As it is – this is yet another post of nothing. NO substance or usefulness. This one is pure whining and complaining.
Maybe spring will make it better.