What can I say? It was a busy week. No time to write…so here’s a post from 4 years ago. Trust me, if I don’t remember it, you won’t either. Enjoy!
Brace yourself, for I have some bad news. Ready?…. I’m going to die.
There, I said it. Like removing a band-aid, I think it’s best to do it quickly. Just get it over with. That’s not to imply I’m intending to kill myself. No, I’m too selfish for that. Besides, I still have a Southwest Rewards flight I’ve yet to use. Continue reading →
Never ride your scooter on the freeway in a tank top when you’re 62 years old. And when you have upper arms that, on a good day, flap around like fish out of water. Add whipping winds while you’re scooting at 50 mph and what you get is slapped silly by your own arms. I tell you, it’s not a pretty sight. Soon you’ll find yourself riding down the freeway with your arms pinned close to your sides so as not to cause a pile up when motorists look on in horror.
Okay, I changed my mind. Maybe my arms aren’t so bad after all
Do not attempt, on a Wednesday, to push your 153 lb. sister in a wheelchair DOWN Sacramento Street in San Francisco, especially after receiving the wrong directions to your destination. You will be on your heels the entire journey, mimicking one of those barefoot water skiers, in your attempt to prevent your sister from careening down a steep city street like Steve McQueen’s car in the movie, Bullitt. Now don’t get me wrong; what goes down must come up. All 153 lbs. UPHILL, in a wheelchair.
Last week, I left you hanging with my tale of Pam and Margo, my exercise-fiend friends. If you didn’t catch that one, I recommend you go back and read it so you’ll know where I’m heading with this one.
I tried to convey just how talented these gals are: they can (and do) literally run for hours and barely break a sweat. They leave swimmers in the wake of their powerful strokes and pass other bicyclists in the dust with hardly any effort. In other words, I’m jealous. Continue reading →
My two exercise buddies, Pam and Margo, trained with me a while ago for a sprint triathlon. We spent months preparing for the half-mile open water swim, 15-mile bike and 4-mile run.
All this, mind you, is done consecutively; not on different days, like normal people would do. And to top it off, we are expected to do it all within a couple hours or risk getting passed by the 95-year-old who’s in her 70th consecutive sprint-tri. Continue reading →
When my parents died in 2004, I took their 7-year-old Kenmore washer and dryer — back when Kenmore meant quality. Should you purchase their appliances around age 70, chances were you’d die before those did. Turns out that washer and dryer lasted 19 years before biting the dust…kicking the bucket…going kaput.
So last September I bought a Whirlpool washer and dryer since they received rave reviews. Fast forward to last week when I put a load of towels in my still-sparkling-clean and shiny dryer, hit the appropriate buttons, tapped START and waited for the magic to begin. Nothing happened.
Hum. Maybe I did something wrong. So I repeated the process. Still nothing. Now don’t get me wrong; all the buttons were lit up, teasing me into thinking my wet towels were about to become extraordinarily dry and fluffy. And to think I fell for it…