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True Crime on Wrist to Forehead Sunday

Well, my wrist is really on my forehead today.   In a dramatic pose as I swoon on the sofa, of course.

This was me in a melodrama. I was quite dramatic.

The true wrist-to-forehead pose is leaned back, eyes skyward if they’re even open, as I said, about to swoon, backwards.  I read somewhere that people always faint forward, that is one way you can tell if they are faking it.  However, I think if you are already leaning back you would continue to do so.  I have not had occasion to test the theory.

So far this post seems not to be about the title.

Even the re-runs are pretty good.

We are watching Snapped, one of my favorites.  Unfortunately, or perhaps I should say fortunately, we are talking and talking and not watching so much.  Fortunately, because it is fun to chat with people.  Unfortunately, because I am not making a very good blog post.

Well, what are Sundays for, anyways?  To sit around dreading Monday? What a waste of time! To prepare for the upcoming week?  As if I ever did anything that together!  To enjoy what’s left of the weekend?  There’s a goal I can get behind!

So I am going to get off WordPress and get back to enjoying my conversation, true crime show, and Sunday evening.  Perhaps I can find a picture to leave you with.  Something wrist-to-forehead-ish?  Something true-crime-ish?  Something conversation-with-friends-ish?  Or maybe just a monster for laughs?

“I still don’t know why they asked me to be in this blog post.”

 

 

Mid-Week Run with a Stop Mid-Way

After several huge bouts of Don’t Wanna Run/Not Gonna Run, I went running.  It was not the best run, but I will attempt a Running Commentary post to avoid another Wuss-out Wednesday (is it really Wednesday? I have been in a time warp since last Friday, which did not feel like one).

I started the run late, about quarter to five.  The sun was setting.  At least, I couldn’t really tell if it was setting or not, because the sky was so cloudy.  I appreciate a cloudy day, so  that was all right.  The temperature was one degree below my cut-off for leggings and long sleeves, so that was how I dressed.  I was not worried about getting too hot while I run because of that sun going down thing.  I figured the air would only get colder.  Additionally, I had one of my long-sleeved ARMY t-shirts handy. It has a reflective decal on the back.  Safety first for Mohawk Valley Girl.

My idea was to have a long, slow run with no hills.  The slow and no hills part would make the long part possible, so I thought.  As I started out, though, I wondered if I was up to it.  I ran slow.  I did not turn toward the hills.  I felt tired.  To distract myself, I thought about what I would cook for dinner and if I would ever get to the other chores I had set for myself.  I ran a couple of errands earlier in the day, but they did not include going to Hannaford nor getting milk (we get it at Stewart’s, where members of the Milk Club, we get a gallon for half off after purchasing five).

The last reflection rendered my run even less enjoyable.  I hadn’t gotten milk!  I couldn’t have my beloved post-run recovery beverage of chocolate milk!  What was I thinking?  I reviewed my timeline in my head, including run, cool-down walk, and shower, ending in Steven’s expected arrival home.  I figured I could at least get the milk.  Maybe I could go to Hannaford as well, and get something easy for dinner, since my timeline clearly did not include time for cooking.  My body heartily applauded the idea of a shorter run.

Still, one must run a certain length of time or it isn’t worth putting on the sports bras.  I continued, looking at my watch and figuring my rout and how long each street was likely to take.

Then I ran into Nicky’s Mom.  Nicky, regular readers may recall, was a sweet little dog I always stopped and petted when I saw him.  I don’t remember if I mentioned it in the blog, but I heard from a mutual friend that Nicky had passed away.  I stopped and said, “I’m so sorry about Nicky!”  We chatted for several minutes about Nicky, and having a dog in general, and how sad it is to lose them. Nicky’s mom (how embarrassing that I cannot remember her name!) has a cat now.  She thinks it was abandoned by some people that moved out of the neighborhood.  It had been living as a stray for a while, until she said to it, “Do you want to come in?”

At some point while we talked, I clicked my watch so it stopped timing my run.  When I finally started running again, I thought I would run to the corner before turning it on again.  Then when I turned it on again, apparently I didn’t do it right, so I have no idea how long I actually ran for.  I think it was for at least 20 minutes.  I’ll tell you what, it is not the best idea to stop in the middle of a run and stand in the cold weather chatting.  My body enjoyed the last part of my run even less than the first part.

It was almost dark as I walked my cool-down.  I reflected how much more I enjoyed walking than running.  For the past two days, I have gone for walks of about a half hour.  It may be time to change over to walking.  But, a little voice in my head says, what about the Reindeer Run?  Well, that’s a problem, isn’t it?  Any advice?

 

At Least I Like Sourdough Bread

Yesterday I talked about a lunch under stress (good lunch, not bad stress, in case you missed it). I don’t always have stress when I eat out and I don’t get to eat out as often as I would like to. However, we were celebrating Steven’s birthday weekend last weekend, so I make bold to offer two eating out posts in a row.

One of my favorite things to do on my day off is to eat at a good hometown diner. The Mohawk Valley is blessed with several. Last weekend, when my husband Steven and I had a rare Saturday off together, we began our day with breakfast at Liz’s in Mohawk, NY.

Liz greeted us as we walked in and we sat down, admiring as always the rooster decor. Several specials were posted on the wall, but we also looked at menus. Decisions, decisions. At least I knew I was definitely getting something with toast, because Liz serves Heidelberg Bread. Yum!

I finally settled on two eggs over medium with homefries and sourdough toast. Steven ordered the same only adding bacon, cholesterol be damned. When I confided that sourdough was my favorite I learned that Liz doesn’t like it. Heresy!

“All the more for me,” I said, although I contented myself with one order.

The potatoes were perfection, and the eggs were just the way I like them, yolks runny, whites not. While we ate we got to chatting with two ladies sitting at the next table. One of them had seen us on stage at Ilion Little Theatre, although she had missed my most recent theatrical triumph. We both expressed a wish that Steven would be in another play soon. He is considering the prospect.

The Dog Whisperer with Cesar Milan was on the television, which led to a discussion about our dogs. We probably could have sat down with another cup of coffee and chatted for another hour. I do love conversation. Conversation and a good breakfast are an excellent combination for a Saturday morning.

Liz’s is located at 150 Main St., Mohawk, NY, phone number 315-941-5609. They are open at 7 a.m. 7 days a week with dinner Wed., Thurs. and Fri. till 7 p.m., Sat. till 5 p.m.