Happy. Healthy. Heathen.

Tour de Boro!

What a beautiful day for a bike ride!

Today was the Tour de Boro (although honestly it was more of a Tour de Christiana), a leisurely spring ride through the rolling hills of Rutherford County, benefitting the organization Special Kids, a nonprofit organization that provides therapeutic rehabilitation and professional nursing services to children with special needs. It’s also a great way to kick off the spring riding season!

Because of a weather front that moved in last night, it was a bit dodgy getting up at 6:00 to 39 degrees. But get up I did, and off to Barfield Park I went, bike on rack, coffee in hand, ready to get my ride on.

Within minutes of arriving and checking in, I heard my name called, and looked around and saw my friend Allison.

Alison has been a friend and a client for 5 or 6 years. We chatted a minute and decided to ride together, as it seemed like we would ride at about the same pace. We had the most delightful time riding and talking. I’d like to share a bit of what she shared with me.

Alison is a veteran and has recently become involved with Ride2Recovery, an organization established to help injured veterans overcome obstacles they face, through the sport of cycling. Alison has done a ride to NYC, the California coast, and the Gulf coast. She shared some stories about some of the folks she has ridden with. R2R provides and modifies bicycles for any manner of disability, and through donations and outside funding, there is no cost to the veteran. Non-veterans are invited and encouraged to attend the structured rides offered around the country throughout the year, although there’s a fee associated with that.

She said the exertion, the camaraderie, the accomplishment are all helping her to process her overseas active duty experiences. Specifically she said it helped her see that all of us, with our strengths and weaknesses, are all beautifully imperfect, and that each person’s life is of their own making. My friend Alison has since spent a month or so in New Zealand, taking in the sights of that spectacular country. It’s also led her to sell her home and work toward accomplishing a personal dream of owning her business.

I hope you’ll visit the website and consider whether this fits into your charitable giving. We don’t always get to see how our contributions work, but today, for a few lovely spring hours, I got to see just that.

Thanks for reading!

April 20, 2013 2

Sometimes you just get lucky

I’m at the American Atheists convention and I have a blog queue that is about to bubble over. There have been great speakers, big laughs, a costume party, old friends, and I have every intention of posting about all those things.

However, something happened last night that bumped all that down the list. I met Earl Smith.

This American Atheist convention is the 50th anniversary of its founding, and it’s being held in Austin, Texas, where Madalyn Murray O’Hare began the organization in 1963, after the landmark ruling of removing prayer in public schools. It’s 4 days of activism, socializing, speakers – all the usual that go along with conventions. We’re meeting and staying at the Hyatt in Austin, which is one of the subjects I want to post on. I have been astounded at the job they have done in accommodating us is so far beyond what is usually expected. I have tried to express my gratitude to the waiters, check-in staff, and security as the opportunity presents.

Earl Smith is the director of security at the Hyatt hotel in Austin, Texas. He’s a tall, snowy-haired, good-natured African American, and we (Eliott and I) warmed to him immediately. Last night, he shared the following story with us.

Earl was drafted in 1966, and served with the 173rd Airborne brigade. That unit sustained losses of over 10,000 American lives, and Earl returned home weary and lost at 22 years old. He struggled to find his way, and was sent to prison a year later for a 5-year sentence for robbery. He was given clemency in 1977, and when he was released, he set about rebuilding his life at age 25, with a war, a prison term, a broken marriage, and the racism of the south in his past.

Earl started with the Marriott in Chicago, and began working his way through the hospitality industry, finally taking the job as the head of hotel security at the Hyatt hotel in Austin in 1998. In 2008, as you may remember, the final debate of the Democratic primary was held at UT Austin. In a stroke of logistic hilarity, or maybe staff ineptitude, both Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama and their respective debate teams stayed at the Hyatt in Austin. When Earl was telling this story, he couldn’t stop chuckling relating the efforts the hotel staff went through to keep distance and peace between the groups in the hotel.

Earl found himself on an elevator with then-senator Obama. In Earl’s pocket was his military patch from the 173rd Airborne, which he had carried in that pocket for 40 years. Earl asked Mr. Obama if he could give him something, and of course Mr. Obama said he could. Earl handed him the worn, frayed patch, and told him that he wanted to offer it to him on behalf of the American people. When Earl told me this part of the story, using hand gestures that spoke even more than his words, he said, “I just felt so relieved to give it to him”.

The story now has to take a leap through time, to January of 2013. One morning, when Earl arrived at his office, his staff was all atwitter about a phone call he had received – from the White House! President Obama’s assistant chatted with Earl on the phone and via email over the next few days and arranged for him to come to Washington DC for the inauguration. Earl was delighted, and set about arranging his budget and time schedule in order to go. Earl’s employer, surprise surprise!, arranged for him to have a room in the packed and expensive Hyatt Hotel within walking distance of the Washington Mall. When his tickets to the inauguration were delivered to his room, they came with a little more news: President Obama wanted Earl to visit him at the White House the following day. The question was also asked: What else did Earl want to do while he was in our nation’s capitol?

Here was Earl’s list: he wanted to go to the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial, and the brand new Dr. King Memorial. On a cold January day, Earl Smith attended the second inauguration of the first black president. He said he loved every freezing minute of it. Then the former Army private visited the memorials. In telling this story full of emotional highs, at this point Earl became emotional, describing the feeling he experienced walking that sloping sidewalk, along that cold, reflecting granite, far too full of names. 40 years vanished, he said, and those names and faces came right back to him, reminding him of where he had come from, why he was where he was, who he had lost. When Earl then visited the Dr. King memorial, he said moments from the past – JFK’s assassination, the war, the civil rights struggle – all came to him as he stood there, taking in the monument. But there was still one more highlight.

It was time to go the White House. Earl found himself sitting in a chair in a hallway, not really sure what was in store for him. He said after he returned from a nervous trip to the bathroom, his escort was nowhere to be seen, so he just took a seat in the chair, and just then, walking down the hall, was a tall, thin, African American man extending his hand saying, “I’m so glad to see you again, Earl.” Then, at the end of that hall, Earl walked in to the Oval Office, that iconic rug on the floor, the desk, all of it. Earl and his President chatted for a bit, 20 minutes in fact, and Earl repeated to him the purpose of the patch; that he wanted the president to have it on behalf of the American people.

Please take the time to visit the link and watch the video. What an honor and privilege it was to have met Earl and hear his story. He’s a lovely, kind, gentle man, and if you are ever in Austin, go out of your way, even if you don’t stay here, to visit the Hyatt and ask to meet Earl.

I'm so proud of this picture! — My friend, Earl Smith

Thanks for reading!

Edit 4.1.13

March 30, 2013 0

Bookshelf Post

Never fails. I’ll go months without writing, then I’ll write 3 posts in a week!

I’m going to have to come up with a new category, maybe called: Cottage Living. I’ve already posted about my plumbing experiences, and now I have the most wonderful experience to share!

To review: I live in a 75-year-old country cottage. My family lived here when my children were little for several years while we were building the big family house on the farm. This house was a little crampy with 4 children and 2 adults; now that the children are grown and gone, it’s just the perfect size. Some of the time it’s just me and the dogs, some of the time the Squeeze blows through as he can with work, some of the time we have friends who come stay a bit, and when I’m really really lucky, one or more of the kids comes for a day or two. This precious house is perfect for all of that, even if it does only have one bathroom!

It’s got a big open kitchen, a large living room and master bedroom, a cute office for school, and a sweet little guest room. It has a back porch with a swing, a front porch, a carport, and a patio where we have Cocktails at Sunset. The yard is huNORmous, with room for the bonfire ring, big old trees with perfect limbs for climbing, even blackberries across the back fence. Here it is in springtime:

It’s located on 8 acres of paradise, with barns and a pond, farm animals…stay tuned for the Spring Break post when daughter Glenda comes home to help with springtime farm stuff – fencing, chicken-coop mucking, garden tilling.

All of this preliminary description to try to get my point across: I love this home. It’s cozy and comfy and mine and I am so happy to live here. Having said all that, there is a need I have that this house hasn’t been able to fulfill. Til now.

I try not to be too materialistic. I try to value people and relationships over things. I try not to be too attached to my possessions, and most of the time I’m successful. I love my car, I admit it, but I recognize and realize it’s just a car. I’ve already said I love my house, and I know how fortunate I am to have this lovely place to live. But the thing I own that probably means more to me than anything else I own is my book collection.

I have books from my childhood, books from my adolescence, and books from my adulthood. I have history books, and philosophy books, and books on humor, and nutrition, and economics, and the environment. I have mysteries, and thrillers, and horror, and science fiction. I only part with a book with a good reason, and “because I’ve read it” isn’t one.

After the plumbing affair, I asked for a reference for a carpenter from the wonderful plumber, and he referred to me Earnest Stem, cabinet maker. After a few phone calls and a visit to the house, we came to an agreement, and shortly thereafter, Earnest set to work. Now we’ll let the pictures tell the story, again.

Here are the temporary bookshelves I had lining the walls

Books on shelves, books on top of shelves

Here’s the point in the story when Earnest enters.

This is a fun shot of the guest room with all the books crammed in to make room for construction

Here's the maestro at work — Here’s the maestro at work

and here's the work in progress — and here’s the work in progress

Here's another In Progress shot (you see I couldn't wait to start putting books out) — Here’s another In Progress shot (you see I couldn’t wait to start putting books out)

And now….Here’s the finished product!!

Aren't they beautiful!? — Aren’t they beautiful!?

This is the children's section — This is the children’s section

So here’s the link to Earnest’s page. I unreservedly endorse and recommend him. He got this work done in 2 days, he was there exactly when he told me he would be, his rates were very reasonable, and he did a fabulous job. Tell him Gayle sent you.

One more shot. We had to move a built-in corner unit in order to install the shelves. This corner unit must have been in place before the carpet was added, because when we moved the unit…

There's a real possibility that the next installment of Cottage Living will involve this floor. — There’s a real possibility that the next installment of Cottage Living will involve this floor.

So check back!

Thank you Earnest, for my beautiful library,

and thank YOU for reading!

March 12, 2013 1

My first Blog award!

This will be a very short lesson on why you don’t give an award to an obnoxious overachiever (think: Hermione).

I GOT NOMINATED FOR THE VERY INSPIRING BLOGGER AWARD!

My internet friend, Marisa, nominated me for this award. Here is her blog, so check out her work. She writes about art, music, cinema, plus she’s funny and smart and has impeccable taste in blogs.

Part of the dealio is that I am to tell 7 things about myself. Because I’ve had this blog going for so long, I’ve told almost everything, so some of this may be a repeat.

1. I have an extensive nutcracker collection. I started it accidentally, and now it’s out of control. When I put them all out at Christmastime, sometimes in the light of the tree, with all their sparkly clothes, and swords, and movable chins, they creep me the hell out.

They're amassing behind me — They’re amassing behind me

2. I don’t like chocolate OR ice cream. I just don’t.

3. Since 1990, I have ridden my bicycle across Iowa at least a dozen times.

4. I would rather read than watch television. Anywhere, anyplace, anytime.

5. I hate country music, but I love the titles:

If You Want to Keep Your Beer Ice-Cold, Keep It Next To My Ex-Wife’s Heart

How Can I Miss You If You Won’t Go Away?

Her Teeth Was Stained, But Her Heart Was Pure

6. I backpacked through Europe when I was in college, complete with Eurail and hostel pass, and went to Greece without telling my parents. Because I went by myself, they wanted my itinerary before I went (this was the dark ages of phones – you had to go to a telephone building to make an international phone call). Greece was nowhere on the list. My dad’s still mad about that.

7. I have an insane, irrational fear of cockroaches. Dad was a Navy man. I grew up in Jacksonville, Key West, Pensacola. In a trailer. With giant, flying palmetto bugs. Me, 4 years old, the sheet pulled over my head, eyes squeezed shut, hearing those hideous things flying in my room at night. **Shudder** Not so irrational now, huh?

Another part of the deal is that I have to link to 15 of my favorite blogs. Here you go:

1. JT’s Patheos blog

2. Greta’s blog

3. My girl Susan’s blog

4. Son Sam’s blog

5. The Bloggess

6. Drs. Mike and Mary Dan’s Protein Blog

7. Ted’s Blog

8. Bookshelfporn

9. Joe. My. God

10. Jesse and Julia’s Blog

11. Neil de Grasse Tyson’s Blog

12. Whole 9 Life Blog

13. Dr. Peter Attia’s blog

14. Pharyngula

15. Eggton

And there you have it – thank you again, Marisa – this was fun! I thought I’d have a little trouble coming up with 15, but I actually had to struggle to edit it down. I’ll try to do another post with another 15.

Thanks for reading!

March 7, 2013 1

No, Believer, what if YOU’RE wrong?

I gave blood today. I won’t say that it’s entirely altruistic. I believe our bodies accumulate too many heavy elements, iron is one of them, and an occasional bloodletting helps keep those levels down. I like that – doing a good deed that’s good for me too!

As you know if you have donated blood, the process takes a bit of time – paperwork, interview, vitals, then the actual bloodgiving itself takes a moment or two. I had my Kindle with me, but my bloodtaker was chatty, so once I saw where the conversation was going, I put my Kindle aside, and, as a captive audience, and taking a deep draw from the well of patience, I engaged in the 398th version of this conversation.

It started with a question about my tattoo. When I don’t have time to engage in a protracted conversation, I say that I got my tattoo as a celebration of completing my Ironman (partially true). When I have time and the situation lends itself to conversation, I give the more accurate answer: that it’s a symbol of my embracing science and reason over faith and religion as a guide for life.

Because I’ve had this conversation so many times, I know how the rest of the conversation will unfold. A little more back and forth about what that means, a little personal history, and then realization on the part of my companion that I am serious about my unbelief.

And then it comes. They look into my eyes, and with an earnestness that I know comes from fear, because I had it myself, they say it.

“What if you’re wrong?”

Pascal’s wager.

*sigh*

I gather my patience (I may have explained it several hundred times, but they haven’t heard it, ever). I explain who Pascal was, and what the entire premise of their question is:

If you erroneously believe in God, you lose nothing (assuming that death is the absolute end), whereas if you correctly believe in God, you gain everything (eternal bliss). But if you correctly disbelieve in God, you gain nothing (death ends all), whereas if you erroneously disbelieve in God, you lose everything (eternal damnation).

So I go through my explanation, like thousands of my fellow atheists have through the years.

1. I cannot simply will myself to believe in something for which there is no evidence. If I told you I had a magic cricket in my purse that talks to me and advises me, that you can’t see, or hear, could you WILL yourself to believe that?

2. If your belief is based only on gambling against a loss, how do you know you’ve picked the right god? How do you know you’re not offending the REAL one by throwing in with this one? There are THOUSANDS of gods in thousands of religion, all with some variation on hell and heaven and eternal punishment. And wouldn’t believing in the WRONG one be even worse than not believing in ANY?

3. If I’m just believing as an exit strategy for this world, with god’s omnipotence and omniscience, would he not see that I’m faking it? Would that not be MORE offensive that being honest about my disbelief?

In this particular version of this oft-repeated scenario, my kind bloodtaker listened while I talked it through, nodded her head as I explained my position, then concluded with, what else: “I’ll pray for you, Gayle. By name.” Alrighty, then.

As I got my sticker and bottle of water (I passed on the cookies and crackers), I was already writing this post in my head, and this is what I want to say:

“Christian, what if you’re wrong?”

What if you’re wrong about spending your life waiting for guidance, not acting for lack of divine message, missing an opportunity to experience something or someone?

What if you’re wrong about how to invest your time and money in alleviating suffering in the world, not based on what the bible says about that, but on real, genuine, compassion for the hurting, the hungry, the homeless?

What if you’re wrong about how we are to treat the earth, not as something over which we have dominion, but as something we are to respect and care for?

What if you’re wrong about your role in judging the decisions other people make about who they love and who they want to marry?

What if you’re wrong about heaven and hell, and about how fast and fleeting this life is, and about what you should say to those you love, and how you resolve struggles in relationships?

What if you’re wrong about the importance of science, wrong about denying evolution, wrong about using prayer instead of medicine?

What if you’re wrong about assuming it is god’s plan that people suffer and die from disease, hunger, war, famine?

What if you’re wrong about how you’ve spent your limited funds giving to a church to pay electric bills and staff salaries, instead of investing in your family’s future, improving education, raising the quality of life for everyone in your community?

What if you’re wrong about spending your Sundays getting up early, getting your children up early to spend the day inside a building convincing yourself to believe something for which there is no evidence, convincing others to believe something for which there is no evidence?

What if you’re wrong about what you’ve taught your children about values and compassion and humanity?

What if you’re wrong about what sin is, about what is okay to enjoy and with whom to enjoy it?

What if you’re wrong about the usefulness of prayer, and about how you can truly help someone who is in a bad place, or at a bad time, or in a bad set of circumstances?

What if you’re wrong about thinking you are a sick, worthless, disgusting being in need of a cure, of salvation?

What if you’re wrong about thinking anyone who doesn’t believe as you is a sick, worthless, disgusting being in need of a cure?

What if you’re wrong about believing that because you’ve followed the rules and have experienced good fortune, that those who experience misfortune have obviously fallen short of being worthy of god’s blessings?

What if you are wrong about endorsing a book full of misogyny, divine murder, ethnic dominion that has tremendous potential to be interpreted as literal, applicable, and appropriate for THIS time and THIS place?

What if you’re wrong about using your feelings about what an invisible, undetectable being might be telling you about how to treat yourself, your spouse, your parents, your children, your money, your neighbor, your world?

So. believer, please understand what Pascal’s wager is before you ask us that question. Understand that’s it’s a weak position in the first place; an admission that there really is no good evidence upon which to base your beliefs. Understand that it’s one of the first things we had to deal with when we began to doubt our faith, and in fact, kept a good many of us in the faith for a great long time. Understand that we have a response to it, a reasonable, practical, rational response.

Then turn it around and ask it of yourself. And answer it.

Thanks for reading.

March 6, 2013 3

Adventures in Plumbing Repair

Of all the subjects I’ve written about, plumbing may very well be one I’ve avoided. No more.

I came home Thursday evening from work to a huge puddle of water near a corner of my house. As I walked around the yard to see if the recent rain had left a standing puddle anywhere else, I discovered what I knew and was dreading – that, no, there weren’t any other areas that still had water visible. I went into the house and to my relief there was no water in the inside, but if I leaned in closely toward the hot water heater/dishwasher area, I could hear the sound of water running.

Were I to have taken a pic during the crisis, this area would be underwater.

I know a little about home construction and repair. I have learned a lot of that since living in this beautiful, charming, quirky 75-year-old house. I knew this: I had a plumbing leak, under the house, on the kitchen end.

One of the charming things about this house is the way the construction of it tells a story. In the beginning there was a three-room structure, and over the years another room was added, then another, and another. From the outside you can’t tell this – the roof, while multi-gabled, is shingled uniformly, the siding covers all the seams, but underneath the house it’s a different story. The subflooring reveals different materials, different levels, even different construction techniques. The most contemporary end of the house has a cinder block foundation; the oldest actually has stacked, flat stones, the stones that are found all over this area of middle Tennessee.

The access hole to the crawl space is 2′ x 2′, which while not comfortable, is manageable. Like all crawl spaces, there are pipes and cables lines and electric lines. In the summer there are also scads of creepycrawlies. What happens under this house however, is that the crawl space diminishes as you scootch toward the kitchen end of the house until you can scootch no more. There’s a beam that cuts across the entire width of the house that is about 6″ off the ground – enough to shine a flashlight but not enough for an adult person to clear. Ask me how I know this.

next shot we add Darwin for size perspective

that's a 50# dog covering the entire opening — that’s a 50# dog covering the entire opening

So back to the leak. After my initial exploration and information gathering, I know it’s beyond my basic skills to figure this out. I call a couple of plumbers early Friday morning – one can get to me Friday afternoon, one Saturday, and I schedule them both. The first guy and I talk through the issue, he agrees with my assessment, scoffs at my “you-can’t-get-to-it-from-under-the-house” statement until he sees for himself. He comes back into the house and proceeds to tell me that we will have to go through the kitchen floor, one area at a time, until we find the leak, and then possibly tear up a bigger area to repair it, depending upon what the circumstances are. So of course the flooring will be sacrificed; the subflooring could probably be reused afterward, but obviously the covering would have to be replaced. He said we’d want to use a carpenter for that work, and an installer for the flooring, and then whatever was necessary for the actual plumbing repair. His estimate was $3000-$5000.

After I regained consciousness, I saw them off with their promises of beginning the repair on Monday, after having gotten their carpenter lined up. I spent a Freaky Friday worrying about the cost and the repair and the mess. I called my resident plumbing expert, Big Jesse, who talked me through his ideas all the way from Los Angeles.

Then Saturday’s plumber came. After my insider talk with Jesse, he and I remembered the possibility that there may be a “scuttle hole” under the dishwasher or stove or sink or something. So when Heath from Advantage Plumbing started looking around, we took a panel off the hot water heater, looked in and beneath the dishwasher, and what do we see? Let’s let the pictures tell the rest of the story…

Here's the blind panel off... — Here’s the blind panel off…

...and here's the base of the dishwasher... — …and here’s the base of the dishwasher…

...and while this may not mean anything to anyone else, that's a seam under there!! — …and while this may not mean anything to anyone else, that’s a seam under there!!

Door to Narnia open... — Door to Narnia open…

Look right in the middle of the copper pipe! There's the bastard! See it spraying the brick!? — Look right in the middle of the copper pipe! There’s the bastard! See it spraying the brick!?

It was right there, right in the middle of the access hole! Woohoo! A little copper sleeve, a little soldering (what’s known as a bandaid repair), and we’re done! Turn the water back on, shove the dishwasher back in, one hour of plumber’s fees, and I’m back in clover!

I think this is less about trying to learn a lesson or takeaway, and more about, in this case, I was just dumb lucky. Btw, that’s the actual plumber and company if you have a need in the future.

So this post isn’t the most exciting or important, but it’s a day in the life. Now if I could just learn to build bookshelves.

Thanks for reading!

February 4, 2013 7

Best dilemma ever.

Followers of this blog will know that I came out as an atheist about 2 years ago. Here’s that post, and here’s another about why I don’t do that quietly.

Over the past several years, I have continued to be involved in atheism activism on the local and national level. I have loved this journey; I love being open to learning something new every day, whether that’s in the arena of science, or politics, or morality, or community, to be challenged with an old belief I hold dear that needs to be examined and either discarded or updated.

This blog is about a new thing I’m learning. For the 45 years I was a believer and a church attender, I never questioned my charitable giving. The instruction in the Bible is pretty clear about the relationship between believer and church and money. The word itself, tithe, historically means giving 1/10th of one’s earnings to the church. I took this admonition seriously, and along with my spouse, regularly and consistently contributed 10% of our earnings to our local church. Having served on said church’s budget committee, I knew exactly where that money was going: staff salaries, utility bills, literature for classes. It was a mindless, relatively painless automatic task, and I never questioned whether or not we would comply with that mandate.

Now that I’m secular, I’m free to give or not to give. And if I give, I’m free to choose to whom I give, and I’m free to make that choice based on whatever qualifications I wish. And not only am I free to give, I’m finding the process of searching and deciding to whom and how much to give both exciting and challenging.

I met with my accountant today (it’s been almost 12 hours – I think I’m finally starting to relax my shoulders). I have a modest budget, and a modest lifestyle. I have no debt, and The Squeeze tells me that the only time he sees me splurge is on the kids. With the OCD, color-coded, to-the-penny budget I have created for myself, even with tuition, I am now in a place where I can add a line item for charitable giving.

I could not be more thrilled.

I have a file on my desk with requests for donations. Those requests are from some favorite organizations: The Human Rights Campaign, the Freedom From Religion Foundation, and the Adventure Cycling Association. I also want to support my local Freethinkers Group, whether through sponsoring the website, or helping with other expenses. I want to be free to respond to any emergency, on the national, local, or interwebs level. I want to do the fun stuff too – buy supplies for Aden’s classroom, give a grocery store gift card to a friend in need, send a little extra cash to a peace corps friend.

Rereading this post, it seems a little simplistic and almost…remedial. Maybe it’s not something everyone else gets excited about. But I’m not embarrassed about that. I think it’s okay to learn a new skill, and be tickled to be doing it, at 52.

I love hearing from you. Tell me your “giving stories”, how you choose, how it helped.

Thanks for reading.

January 29, 2013 4

Running with the grand!

What a wonderful thing!

Yesterday was the Zoo Run Run, the annual 5k through the Nashville Zoo.

This was a run chosen by my beloved massage therapy school posse in an effort to show that the caretakers take care of themselves too! We preach health and fitness and nutrition and stress reduction every day to our clients, and it is past time for us to live what we teach.

The squeeze and I had registered for the race together, but business took him to California for the week, so I ended up with an extra registration. I also ended up with the grandson for a sleepover Friday night. When I offered him the opportunity, he was ALL. FOR. IT!! After all, as he reminded me when I ordered him a Little Boy’s Hot Chocolate from Starbucks, “Gammy, I’m not a little boy. I’m 8”.

So after Friday night’s Snacks n Movie on the big couch (Cheerios and milk, and Stand By Me), and after helping me do some work at my gym on Saturday morning, into our warmest running gear and off to the zoo we went.

First thing was registration, checking in to get our race bibs and tshirts.

Then it was visiting vendors, and seeing runners in animal costumes, or animals in runner costumes, picking up a few freebies, and petting the animals brought out for just that.

I think there's a pony under all that shag. — I think there’s a pony under all that shag.

Then we had a few minutes to stretch before they called us to line up with 2000 of our closest friends, and it was time to get our Zoo Run on!

3…2…1…GO! We shot right out of the corral at, well, a fast crawl, til the crowd spread out a little, then it was full speed ahead. My race strategy was this: I was sure I could outrun him, even if I am a little older, so I was going to let him run til he was tired, then we would walk/run the remainder of the race. That’s exactly the strategy we implemented, but we added a few short stops for animal pics.

Some kind of a red-haired pig or something - neither one of us could remember the name of this cutie — Some kind of a red-haired pig or something – neither one of us could remember the name of this cutie

Then we came upon the elephants – they were magnificent!

Look closely to see the big guy behind us!

Then it was the kangaroos, then an ostrich, the zebras, the cats, and finally the flamingoes!

Then, in one final, reserve burst of speed and energy, he tore across the finish line, arms raised in victory, cheered on by the crowd!

I am so proud of the little guy, and we’re already talking about our next race. I once made a promise to my kids that whatever they would allow me to participate in with them, I would do my very best to do. That promise has taken me to the top of black diamond slopes, down rapids that scare the hell out of me, to runway fashion shows, and up rock walls. Now I’ve made the same promise to my grand. I can’t think of a better way to stay healthy than that.

Our celebratory cones at the "ice cream place with the two lips". Took me a while to figure out too. — Our celebratory cones at the “ice cream place with the two lips”. Took me a while to figure out too.

Thanks for reading!

January 27, 2013 5

Where have you been?

Where have you been?! I’ve been waiting and waiting!

From the The-best-defense-is-a-good-offense files…

When I logged in to write today’s post, I was astounded to see I haven’t posted since November! Where did the time go? Maybe the kids coming for Thanksgiving or my best girl and her wife visiting for a few days or taking my finals for the end of my second year of law school or going to Amy’s graduation or moving her to a new apartment or Glenda coming home for the semester break or my parents coming for Christmas or going to Las Vegas for my studybuddy’s 40th birthday or driving nonstop with Son2 from Colorado to Tennessee to reposition a vehicle or starting my third year of law school? Still no excuse, I know.

I do love being stimulated, but this has been a little over the top, even for me.

Starting with kid news:

#1 had better grades than me after fall semester, and I had good grades. That was tough to take, but I’m so proud of him. Ben is a political science major at CU Boulder, home of Ralphie the Buffalo (extra credit if you know the history of the mascot at this school). Kirsten finished her master’s in architecture this year, and they’re trying to get used to NOT living in a resort town.

#2 is in his winter semester as the asst director of the outdoor program at Virginia Commonwealth U. His group of students went on a ski trip to Breckenridge, which is why he ended up there with his Airstream B Van needing to bring it back east. I volunteered, so 24 hours later, we arrived home, where Sam slept, then drove the rest of the way alone, visiting his sisters along the way.

#3 is in what may be her final semester at UT. In a painful twist of irony, she’s having to defend a French class she took IN FRANCE in order to get credit to graduate. The less said about that the better.

#4 graduated from East Tennessee State University in December. She’s applied for a job with the parks department of Johnson City and is eagerly awaiting an answer. She has a kickass plan B, so I’ll wait for that post until she hears the result of her interview.

As for me, I’m now past the halfway point in law school, the bar exam notwithstanding. That’s an entity unto itself. I have 23 more tuition payments, 23 more months of school. If you’re keeping track, this year’s subjects are: Evidence, Corporations and Business Organizations, Professional Responsibility, Legal Analysis and Writing, Legal Research, Employment Discrimination, and Cross Profession Ethics. It is as much work as it appears to be. Do not think, as I did, that law school is top-loaded. I love the topics; the challenge is cramming the daily 12 hours of study into 4 or 6 hours.

In training news, son Sam has decided he wants us to do a triathlon together before one of us gets too old. And of course by triathlon, I mean the big bad one. We’ve decided on the window of Mar-Sept 2014, so we’re looking at races all over the world to find an iron distance we want to do. That gives us the maximum time to train, and before I start my big push studying for the Bar. Stay tuned for details.

I’d like to say here that I’ll do a better job of blogging more regularly, but we all know I’m kidding myself. It’s not that I don’t have a lot to write about, but you already know that. However, it is a nice refuge from the intensity of my academics, so here’s my empty promise to try to do better.

And, for no good reason, here’s a face:

Thanks for reading!

January 25, 2013 1

Happy. Healthy. Heathen.

Traveling, training, thinking, talking, typing

Tour de Boro!

Sometimes you just get lucky

Bookshelf Post

My first Blog award!

No, Believer, what if YOU’RE wrong?

Adventures in Plumbing Repair

Best dilemma ever.

Running with the grand!

Where have you been?

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Gayle Jordan