Feelin' skinny at the pool

Here is a picture of the happiest dog in the world. This is my Hoppsy. She's awesome. She is smart, funny and would make a respectable center fielder on any team. Even now, at the ripe old age of nearly 11, she can snag the tennis ball right out of the air. What a champ. Oh, and did I mention that she idolizes me and worships the ground I walk on. I've got to get one of those bumper stickers that reads, "I aspire to become the person my dog thinks I am."
The other day, while swimming alongside triathlon girl, I was feeling a bit frumpy. Today, I was a cross between Janet Evans and Heidi Klum, gorgeous and fast in the water. That's because on one side was an enormous woman who could not actually swim. Rather, she walked back and forth across the pool. I give her credit, though. At least she was there. On the other side of me was a snail's pace breast stroker who did not seem to want to get her hair wet. My freestyle stroke sent me past her like
an Olympic sprinter racing a granny with a walker. Wewhoo!
When I got home, Ron was making great progress on the tractor. Together, we not only got the lawn mowed and the edges trimmed but cleared another large patch of grass. Ron is pretty sore tonight. He hasn't exerted himself much at all for over a month. So he'll be hobbling around tomorrow.
Other than that, there's not much new. This weekend we're planning a big excursion; the two hour drive to Costco! Again... wewhoo! Aloha!

Comments

Mom

This is my beautiful mom. She died last Sunday. For those who knew her, my heart breaks with you. For those who did not, here's an introduction to the best confidante, role model and mother a girl could hope for in life. This is the obituary I'd planned to submit to the local paper, but have opted instead to publish here. Obituary: Beverly Todd Bev -- my mom -- was a longtime caregiver, advocate, and dear friend to countless elderly in South Salem. Hers was a kind and generous spirit. She devoted much of her life to the welfare of others, giving wholly of herself and doing so always with great affection and humor. She was born Beverly Marie Steinberger in Silverton, July 23, 1938, the first child and only daughter of Art and Marie Steinberger. Her brothers called her Bevvy Buns, a nickname she grew fond of and wore proudly within the family circle as an adult. Bev attended St. Paul’s Elementary School in Silverton, Silverton High School and Marylhurst Co...

Back at it

It's been some time since I've written. My mom died in February, and I haven't had the gumption to write much, other than a couple of feature stories for the paper and the occasional pithy email to a friend. Tonight, sitting in my favorite burger joint with a pile of fries in front of me, I dunk them into a deep pool of ketchup mixed with a hot sauce. That's how Mom liked 'em. My burger? The Spicy Hawaiian, a nod to my 808 connections. It's a brilliant combination of peppers and pineapple, a favorite on the Power Stop menu. I'm sure she'd have loved it, too. There's a bubbly beer with a lime in it. That's not a homage to anything. I just like beer. These past months, I've done little but work, search and apply for jobs. Two rejection letters have landed in my email this week. Search-and-apply has become a futile obsession. It's time for a break, at least until I hear back from all those applications still floating around out there. I am...

Re-writing Twain: Adendum

The best thing about rants, at least among the civilized, is that someone smart always makes a valid point to the contrary. My fellow University of Alaska Anchorage classmate, Wendy, directed me to this column, written recently for the New York Times by a writer I admire, Lorrie Moore . She's on both sides of editing Twain issue, and for good reason, posing the notion that maybe Mark Twain was never intended to be children's literature and that that is the problem. Give it a read, then tell me what you think, if you're so inclined. It was Flannery O'Connor who said, "The fact is that anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information to last him the rest of his days." No matter how idyllic one's childhood, no matter how hard grown ups try to protect their young charges, trauma happens, sometimes the likes of which no child should endure. Stories that reflect this are often the fodder for great literature, stories not necessarily suitable for y...

Mountains and Islands

Search This Blog