Check. I feel a little sore in spots (knees, right hip, upper back, abs) but I'm determined to get a little more fit. Daylight Savings Time starts Saturday night (yikes! already?) and I'm determined to get my bike out this summer or at least take it off the rafter hooks. No. I want to strap it onto Beverly's back and bike on the Fox River Trail from Eve's to the DePere dam (about 8 miles round trip) at least once a week. So that means I need to get started now getting my muscles in order. I'm too old to just leap up and pedal, I need to train. I did 20 minutes on the stationary bike over in the corner there yesterday afternoon after I chipped back a foot or so of driveway glacier. You think I'm kidding about it being a glacier? Just a minute let me go snap a picture. Hold on.... Got it and it's nearly 4" thick. I intend to reach the gutter this weekend when it warms up into the 30s but I need to stop at Fleet Farm today for more ice melting salt. See, I soften up the edge with ice melt for an hour and then I go out with Dad's old shovel to pry up the leading edge. I think the snowplow came by yesterday trying to scrape off some of the worst of the ice (I heard some unholy metal scraping sounds in the neighborhood in the afternoon) but Beverly was parked on the street then (of course) so they swung around her and totally skipped the end of our driveway. Drat.
This weekend's Artigras over at the arena. I'm pretty broke and I'm saving for a run away with Lala later this month but maybe I can manage to walk through and not buy anything, or much anyway. I'll see.
March 6--Tiffany Studios, Lamp. The poppies nodded on their long gray-green stems. Their purple centers were made even darker by the vivid orange of the petals. Rita lay in the flower bed watching the flowers dance against the blue sky. She had sneaked out the kitchen door when Mam when into the pantry. She was tired of spending every day doing chores and then reading the Bible. She needed time outside so she laid down behind the biggest clump of poppies to just breathe. She heard footsteps coming toward her on the gravel lane and squinted into the sun to see who it was. Uncle Len's blond curls were mussed up and his face was red as he talked to their neighbor Mr. Baumauer. Mr Baumauer had cornered Rita behind the school last week and made her cry. Uncle Len had found her, listened to her story, dried her tears, and promised to take care of things.
Ooh, ick, but I do love poppies. I think I'll plant some more when it warms up. I wonder if you can save the seed pods and use the seeds to make lemon poppyseed muffins; those are my favorites. I should look that up. I think I'll make me some oatmeal for breakfast with dried cherries in it. I'll pretend that I'm at The Clearing for 15 minutes until reality hits and I have to go to work. I'm good at playing pretend, Mom and I used to "play like" a lot when I was little.
P.S. we didn't get a flake, not one flake, from yesterday's snow storm. Whew, dodged that one.