Archives for September 2010

Sadness with a Side of Incredulity

Sometimes I can’t believe myself.  I really can’t.  Today I got a taste of the medicine that I usually dole out to my husband.  I returned home from my twenty mile run, sweaty, tired, hurting in places I didn’t think possible.  First order of business was to get a drink of water, so while standing in the kitchen I turned my attention to the running schedule posted on the wall. As I looked at it, I realized that something about the dates didn’t add up. Something like the fact that I didn’t account for a week, meaning I have another week of training.  Meaning that I ran twenty miles too early in the schedule.  Meaning I have another really long run to complete.  Meaning that I wanted to collapse in the corner and cry like a baby.

I have attention to detail issues and usually I reserve this minor character flaw for situations that involve trips to Home Depot, placing Michael’s chinese food order, or having the correct shirt clean on the right day.  This means that I am frequently doing or not doing something that will land me in some sort of trouble with Michael. What it should not mean is that I have to run an extra twenty miles due to an accounting error.

Good grief.


New and Noteworthy

I’m having a hard time wrangling my thoughts these days. I apologize for the lack of posting, but there’s simply nothing noteworthy happening at the moment.

My neighbor almost ran me over a few days ago.  That was interesting.

My daughter has been giving me the third degree over how many chocolate chip muffins I plan on eating for breakfast.  She wants to be sure there’s enough for her.  I really feel like I’m past the age where my food consumption needs to be monitored.

And I’m having aches and pains in places I did not think it possible, thanks to the commencement of the most intense training weeks before the race in November.  I’m not sure my neighbor running me over would have been a bad alternative.

We’re hitting the six month mark here in Zurich.  I also like to refer to it as “Buyer’s Remorse” month.  Six months is always the hardest.  It’s when the shine starts to wear off the new toy, and you realize you’ve still got a long way to go before you can shop at Target and no longer endure a fridge/freezer that seems more appropriately sized for Barbie’s dream house.

I miss home, toes that don’t bleed,  neighbors who don’t attempt to kill me and eating as much as I want without having to report to a miniature person.  In spite of all that, life is good.  We’re off on an adventure this weekend and I’m running my first 20 miler of the season.  Yes, life is good.


A Student Shaped Hole

I think if I’d had my way and an unlimited trust fund, I would have probably ended up a perpetual student.  I loved college.  And if it weren’t for the scary people at my high school, I probably would have really enjoyed that too.  Once I started having babies, the classroom learning came to a screeching halt. However, I remained undeterred, and I looked for other avenues to fill the student shaped hole it left behind.  
There was an ill-fated attempt at dancing lessons with Michael.  It was here we discovered that we both want to lead, which wasn’t terribly conducive to dancing or to our relationship.   Then there was the hard core, four hour long weekly cooking classes, once again suggested by Michael.  The brochure failed to mention that not hating cooking is a pre-requisite.  And let’s not forget the (one) knitting class I attended, in which I (wrongly) assumed having opposable thumbs made it a sure winner.  It turns out you need at least three or four of them.  It seems the road to self-improvement is littered with marital strife, burnt food, and a scarf that only a mother could love.
Now that my kids are in school and I am FREE,  free to pursue my life long learning, I have decided to sign up for a few new classes.  I am currently taking a photography course, as well as twice weekly language lessons.  Next up, a class, a real one with a textbook and everything.  And nary a recipe in sight.  
What kinds of classes are you taking/thinking about/avoiding?

Near misses

I was talking to an older Swiss woman recently about traveling and hair raising experiences on the road.  I told her that I’d been late to our appointment that day because the car in front of me hit another one. I had to change directions and backtrack to avoid the auto parts strewn across the road.  It wasn’t much of a story.

She told me about a near miss while driving the motorway in Italy.  I shook my head, ‘Near misses, we’ve all had them’.  Then she said, ‘I know there were angels protecting us and I thanked God for it’.  And in that moment, I felt every difference between us- age, nationality, language, religion fall away because God’s Spirit transcends them all. In New Jersey, in Italy, in Switzerland, on the road, in our homes, at the hair salon,  He is present and He makes His name known.


I’m joining the celebration of everyday gifts over at Chatting at the Sky today.  I’m so grateful for everyday conversations that remind me that God is so much bigger than the box in which I try to squeeze Him.  

While Waiting

“When summer gathers up her robes of glory,
And, like a dream, glides away.”~Sarah Helen Whitman
We’re in the middling, between the end of summer and the advent of autumn (the most delicious of seasons).  We are suspended between cool mornings and warm afternoons, so we layer sweaters and socks for the morning walk to the bus stop.  Along the way we stop to admire summer’s last blooms and keep close watch as she gathers herself up for a quiet exit.