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No Matter on Wrist to Forehead Sunday

I ran this morning, thinking I would go ahead and make two Running Commentary posts in a row.  Then I thought a common or garden Wrist to Forehead Sunday would be OK.  Now I am sitting here at the laptop, typing nonsense, and watching the clock creep closer to when my friend Kim comes over and my husband Steven gets off work and we head to the Little Falls Cheese Festival Fundraiser at the Overlook Mansion.  There will be wine and craft beer samples there.  If I wait and make my post later, I fear I will drink and type.  Of course I have done that before, but it is not ideal.

Then again, it may be better than what I have so far.  Perhaps I should compose two posts today, one now and one later, publish both and let the readers decide.  Ah, but what to write about NOW?

This morning’s run was pretty good.  I ran down to the canal trail, starting by Mohawk Valley Ambulance Corp, running for as long as I ran yesterday.  Yay me.  Back home, I made a macaroni salad for my lunches this week, also chopping vegetables for snacks.  Yay me again, although it might be better if I did not eat all kinds of other crap besides the vegetables.  However, I can’t worry about that now.

My real wrist to forehead situation today is what to wear to the fundraiser.  I have a color coordinated outfit on now but I’m not in love with it.  I think I look like an overweight middle-aged lady.  Oh wait, that’s what I am.  I suppose I will look like that no matter what.  Ah, and what’s in the middle of that last sentence?  “No matter.”  That is what I often say to myself, and it is what I say now.  I don’t like my outfit.  I don’t like this blog post.  No matter.  I’m going to have fun at the fundraiser.  I wonder if I can get anything else useful done before I go.

 

Perhaps Not an Epic Post but an Epic Run

I was twenty minutes into my run when I remembered I had not put on any sunscreen, not even my usual Oil of Old Ladies with SPF 15 on my face.  Of course, sunburn has not even been on my radar with our late spring.  Additionally, I usually run before 9 a.m. on a Saturday.  However, today I did not hit the streets till almost 1:30.  Yikes!  Naturally I kept running and tried not to worry about such things.

I had slept in this morning, after a late night at the murder mystery party where I had been plied with gin and champagne (full disclosure:  I did not put up much of a fight).  I had a headache and only myself to blame.  No matter, I told myself briskly.  I had not been running in three days and I was determined not to make in four.  I ran with a bottle of water in one hand.  I seem to remember that this is against the best running advice, but that was something else I couldn’t worry about.  My plan was to sip as I ran and when it was empty, refill it at the spring.  Accordingly, I headed towards Lou Ambers Drive, where the spring is located.

My plan was to run up the minor hill by Valley Health and around the residential area there I call the suburbs.  I guess technically it’s not a suburb, but you know how I like to have names for things.  There is an epic hill in that area as well as a few more of varying slopes and distances.  I did not feel up to anything too strenuous.  I wanted a slow, long, easy run.

Guess where I ended up running. Yes, it was the epic hill.  I sort of automatically headed in that direction and once I was on it just kept going.  Oh, that hill goes on for a long time!  Partway up, I thought it would probably be OK if I just turned around and ran back the way I came.  Then I reminded myself how stubborn I was.  I wasn’t rocking it, but I would not be defeated.  The road is a long loop, it goes up, up, up, then down, then up a short ways to meet up with itself.  I was SO HAPPY when I FINALLY got to the down part!  I noticed that the downhill did not last nearly as long as the uphill before I was headed uphill again.  And there’s a metaphor for life, I told myself.

As I ran, I narrated in my head, thinking my blog post would be a long as my run.  Now that I am typing, I’m not remembering the good parts.  For one reason, my headache is back.  No matter.  It will go away again.  In the meantime, I upped my run time by the recommended 10 percent and I am well on track to being in shape running the Boilermaker 15K.  Anyways, do you really want to hear about my puffing and panting?  Well, if you do, don’t despair.  I will no doubt do more running commentaries soon.  Happy Saturday, everyone!

 

Murder! Acting! and Cheese!

It’s been a while since I’ve made a hasty post before rushing off to a theatrical endeavor, has it not?  No matter if it has not, it is what I am doing now, I hope.  What a weekend I have ahead of me!  One show revived, another show started, and a wine and cheese fundraiser.  Take a deep breath, Cindy, and enjoy the ride!  (Yes, I talk to myself, is that a problem?)

First up is tonight’s revival of Rubbed Out at Ruby’s, the interactive murder mystery that was presented to great acclaim at The Overlook Mansion in Little Falls (all my murder mysteries are presented to great acclaim, or at least I say so).  We are putting it on again for a private party.  Woohoo, LiFT Theatre Company is in demand!

This was the original cast. We had to re-cast a couple of parts.

Tomorrow, I’ll be with LiFT Theatre Company once again, when we meet for the first read-through of The Tempest, our Shakespeare production for the summer.  I will be sure to make lots of posts about that as rehearsals start and keep my local readers updated on performances.  You’ll have lots of chances to catch this one!

Sunday, when I ought to be doing laundry and cleaning my house (oh yeah, and writing my novel), I will be heading to the Overlook Mansion for a fundraiser for the Little Falls Cheese Festival.

I’ve got my ticket!

I will be a mere attendee at this event, instead of a participant, as I will be for Rubbed Out at Ruby’s and The Tempest.  I expect it will make a lovely blog post.

I see I have come full circle on this post.  I started out with Rubbed Out at Ruby’s, which was presented at the Overlook Mansion by LiFT Theatre Company.  I continued with another activity with LiFT Theatre Company.  Now I return to the Overlook to eat cheese, drink wine and listen to the blues.  What could be better?  I shall close with a shot of the Overlook, which I believe I have used before.  Happy Friday, everybody!

It is such a beautiful place, I don’t mind showing it more than once.

 

My Halloween Socks Are Clean

A few minutes ago, I thought to myself, “When in doubt, eat ice cream.” I thought it would be a good lead for a blog post, but it seemed ominously familiar.  Once I finished the ice cream, I looked and sure enough, I once made a blog post with exactly that title.  And pinged back on it two more times.  This will be three.

Full disclosure:  It was frozen yogurt and I realize that, even so, it is a poor way to work toward my weight-loss goals.  In my defense, allow me to explain, “Shut up.”  (That is a joke I proudly borrow from S.J. Perelman.)

I just took a break from blogging and looked for S.J. Perelman on Facebook, to make sure I spelled his name right.  I ended up reading part of a Paris Review interview with him.  Then I realized the Friends re-run that was on next was not one I wanted to see, so I got up and changed the channel to 20/20 on OWN.  As you may guess, I am not particularly focused today.  On the brighter side, I am in a much better mood than I was yesterday.

I did a very little writing earlier, on a letter to a friend.  As I always maintain, any writing counts.

Steven just now reminded me that I have laundry in the washer.  Oops.

The laundry is in the drier, except for the items I hang up to dry.  Now, having skipped around in true Non-Sequitur Thursday fashion, I am going to sign off.  I just remembered I was going to paint my toenails tonight.

 

No Boot Straps on Wuss-out Wednesday

I am having the damnedest time writing and have for the longest time.  I think to myself, “I love to write!”  But all I want to do is puzzles, primarily cryptograms with a few others thrown in.  I thought to myself today, this is a symptom of depression:  you like to do something, you know it will help you to do it, and you don’t do it. What the hell, me?

The thought came into my mind, “People who have not experienced it cannot understand the mind-numbing, paralyzing, utter inability…”  I don’t remember how the thought ended, but I immediately felt I could not put such a thought into a blog post.  Nobody would buy it, I thought.  They will tell me to stop being such a whiny baby, and maybe they are right.

I am going through a few things, but let’s face it: We all have problems and many people have far worse ones than mine.  As I have mentioned before, I suffer from depression.  I don’t like to write it or say it, because it sounds like I am asking for sympathy or making an excuse.  And it feels as if I have exposed something private and secret I would really, really rather not talk about.  Some people do not “believe in” depression.  They feel it is a made-up problem and I need to just stop whining and pull myself up by those boot straps they’re always talking about.

Only I rarely wear boots and the ones I have don’t have straps.

Then again, not whining is not a bad start.  I cannot pull myself up by my bootstraps (and what a hoary cliche that is, anyways), but there are things I can do to make myself feel better.  I will try to do some of them.  For example, starting on a better blog post for tomorrow.  We’ll call this one a Wuss-out Wednesday and drive on.

 

Steve is Bela; I’m Boris

Two of my favorites, Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff.

I was about to start making a Wuss-out Wednesday post when I realized it was only Tired Tuesday.  However, my sweet husband, Steven, has the next two days off, so it is his Friday.  Therefore, I thought of using this photo.  Other than that, I don’t got much.

I went running earlier, so thought I could make a Running Commentary post.  Unfortunately, I don’t think that is going to work out for me.  I used up all my oomph before I ran, finishing my article for Mohawk Valley Living magazine and typing up a couple of scenes for a murder mystery.  I was pretty impressed with myself that I ran at all.  I was rewarded for my effort by the feeling that my legs actually had muscles in them.  Yay, me.

Incidentally, regarding the headline, I’m not really Boris. For the main reason, I would never call my husband an idiot.  Additionally, my voice is nowhere near as melodious.  Wouldn’t that be a kick, though, if one day I magically woke up with Boris Karloff’s voice?  That would rock.

Is this post turning into a Non-Sequitur Tuesday?  That belongs on Thursday, for heavens’ sake!  I can’t even keep my own features straight! Then again, that’s par for the course on Tired Tuesday.  Let’s hope for better posts as the week wears on!

 

My Wild Weekend

This past weekend, my husband Steven and I were in Vermont.  I did not say anything about it at the time, because I didn’t want any local readers seizing the opportunity to burglarize my house.  Then again, I’m sure all my lovely readers are honest, upright citizens, who probably have much nicer stuff than I do anyways.  Be that as it may, I thought for today’s post, I would share a few pictures I took of my sister-in-law’s back yard.  She lives at the bottom of a mountain.  It’s really cool.

No, these are NOT my in-laws! What a suggestion!

The wild turkeys came and visited every morning and evening while we were there.  Naturally I grabbed my Tablet and took a few pictures.

You’d think they would have smiled for the camera. Turkeys!

I confess I felt like a lousy nature-lover when the sight of the birds made me crave roast turkey with all the fixings.

Of course I did not try to catch and cook any of these turkeys.

You can’t really see the colors of the feathers in these pictures, but when the sun hit them they became almost iridescent. I was kind of hoping one of them might lose a feather or two that I could find.  Maybe if I would have taken a walk in the woods I could have found one.

On the other hand, there are black bears in those woods. We saw one black bear.  Alas, I did not get a picture, because it was at night.  Additionally, we could only see him through the kitchen window.  When we went out on the deck for a better look, he ran away.  I said he was a scaredy-bear.

So that is my story about my Wildlife Weekend.  I know, it wasn’t like an African Safari or even a camping trip.  But for a Melancholy Monday (my new feature), I think it will do as a blog post.