Funny how after Juneathon, it’s so easy to fall off the blogging bandwagon! I’ve got a busy few weeks coming up, and although my life is not a soap opera (it only seems that way at times), let me answer a few questions which I’m certain are on your minds as we head off into August.
cue anticipatory music:
What will become of Luna?!?!?! Is Thing 2 reaching her (oh-so-low) bar of responsibility?!?!
YES! Thing 2 is actually thinking of some
onething other than herself! Luna is a well-cared for kitten and Thing 2’s bedroom actually has floor! Which we continue to see on a daily basis! We still have a few days to go, but I think it’s safe to say that Thing 2 has earned Luna a spot Chez Sato.
Now, Luna’s spot may be a sure thing, but that doesn’t mean this will be an easy road. Flipper (our granny cat) is still giving this young kit the evil eye. And Luna apparently does not understand that the yarn (or computer keyboards, remote controls with wrist straps, foam rollers, or mozzarella cheese) is off-limits. Honestly, I have not had a kitten in my house since I was a kitten myself (all my adult cats have been at least 5 when I’ve adopted them), and I am flabbergasted at the energy and bouncy-ness of this one pound bundle of energy.
Will Paige get over her extreme case of train station jealousy?
I doubt it.
Last week a coworker and I had to take the MetroNorth train to Stamford, CT for a work event. When I commute in and out of the city, I go through Penn Station, a low-ceilinged, dingy, awful food-optioned pit served by the Long Island Railroad and NJ Transit.
For this trip, I visited Grand Central Station (see? even the name sounds better) for the first time in years. I wish I hadn’t. I almost cried.
The ceiling, which had been covered in plaster (!), was part of a 12 year restoration (finished in 1998–unbelievable to me that I hadn’t seen it yet). And instead of being a bastion of fast food (as is Penn Station), Grand Central HAS. BEAUTIFUL. CUPCAKES. AND. HOMEMADE. POP TARTS. (yes, I tried one. That, and my small iced coffee only cost $8. But that’s beside the point.)
I think people need to commute to beautiful settings. It certainly puts you in a better frame of mind to walk into an expansive, lovely space as opposed to one where you’re continually ducking for fear of hitting your head on the pipes.
Will Paige be trading in her mini for something a bit more powerful?
No. Maybe part of the reason Grand Central Station seemed so lovely is that I didn’t have to make my way home through it. Instead another coworker brought me home in style in his 2005 ‘vette. I’ve never ridden shotgun in a muscle car. Let’s just say, they go fast. A little too speedy for my taste. But it was fun. (oh, and I don’t usually dress like Popeye. The work event was at a yacht club. I tried to dress the part.)
Will Paige’s parents be able to clear their home of 50 years of crap before they need to move?
Not with help like this:
My siblings and I all gathered at my sister’s beckoning to help my parents rid their home of nearly 50 years of accumulated treasures before they move to their new downsized home in Virginia. (yes, Virginia. Still trying to figure that one out). We had great fun at the playground and eating birthday cake. Not so much stuff made it into the garage sale pile. Although I did come home with some furniture, art, linens and more. Amongst the long-lost treasures? My brother’s All Star Little League jacket from when he was 8. Numerous trophies (earned back in the day when not everyone got one). Yearbooks. Many many photos of people we don’t know. Over 200 vases. Nearly as many picture frames. Some even holding photos of those unknown people. And knowing how my siblings and I are all excellent at leaving things behind (after our visits), I’m certain my parents’ home has even more stuff now than before we started.
How many runners will leave “it” all out on the track in Don’s Birthday Pizza Mile?
Hard to believe, but zero.
Don from my running club hosted a “pizza” mile to celebrate his birthday. The rules: eat a slice of pizza. In its entirety. Run a quarter mile (one lap of the track). Eat another slice, run another lap. Repeat until 4 slices and 4 laps (1 mile) are done. I entered the relay division (two slices, two laps, then a hand off to your partner).
After the very anti-climatic start (lots of chewing sounds, no movement), the race got going. This was hard. After the first lap, everyone figured out that the slice only had to be in your mouth, not fully swallowed, to begin the next lap, which led to many laps run whilst chewing. My relay partner and I placed first in the relay (13:24 for the mile). I think this is probably the only time ever I’ll place first in a race.
There were plenty of green faces at the finish, but no barf on the track!