My dad found this amazing beef at a local Mexican grocery store. It’s super thin, a little seasoned, a super yum when prepared over an open flame.
The weather has been super nice so we’ve spent a bit more time out in the backyard. It’s really nice, things are growing, and all my plants look very hopeful. Of course, the train is pretty cool too.
The kids and I decided we need some buildings and since we have no supplies we built a hobo hut. We have no idea what that is or if it’s even a thing, but they’ve seen hobos in some Western or another and a hut made of sticks and things from the garden area seemed just the thing.
This is round 1. I led the charge on this one and we kept it simple.
This is round 2. Ricky decided the hut needed a different setup and some leaves on the roof to keep the rain off anyone who decides to move in.
Let me just start by saying that I love dogs. They are cute, cuddly, and great to have around.
I like to run at a nearby park. It’s big and grassy, there’s enough room to run almost 3 miles without looping around too much. There are many signs around the park, posted in super obvious places. They are as follows:
* Don’t climb the fence into the US air base
* Don’t jog through the dog park
* Pick up your dog’s poo
* Keep your dog on a leash
No one breaks the first one. The consequences are pretty clear. The second is also easy as well. I’ve never seen anyone run through the dog park, not sure why anyone would want to. :)
That brings me to the two that seem to be giving people trouble. Trying to avoid stepping in the poo in the grass is like trying to avoid getting blown up in a land mine. I’ve got piles of bags at home I’d be happy to make available. I’m really not quite sure why people think it’s ok to leave their dog’s business behind.
And today, again, I had to pause my run to ask a man to call his dog off. I don’t know much about dogs, but I know they like to run after things and in my experience, every loose dog along the running path runs after me. Oh, I believe the owners when they call to me from 29 feet away from their dog that they won’t bite and that they are “really friendly”. I am sure all the dogs are just as sweet as can be, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that there are leash laws. There is also a special large area just for dogs. That by the way, I am not allowed to run through. And I don’t.
Let me be clear, I like dogs. I do. If a person is close in proximity to their dog, that’s great. If a dog responds quickly and if an owner is super super aware of other people, then I’m not that particular. But a dog bounding up to me as the owner walks casually away is not ok with me. So, to the man at the park today: Yes, sir, I’m afraid of your dog. When I’m running through the park and a large animal bounds up to me? You bet it makes me nervous. Keep your eye on your dog. Let him run loose for a while, but if you can’t keep tabs on your dog, then get yourself to the dog park.
Over the years I’ve come to appreciate a good workout. When I was younger, sweating was disgusting to me. I couldn’t stand the thought. I was the girl who found any excuse to get out of gym class and I was a lost cause as far as any sort of athleticism went.
A few years ago, a friend gave me a free trial for Jazzercise. I laughed inside. But I think this friend is pretty awesome so I figured I’d give it a go.
And it turns out I love it. So much.
So at the end of a long day I go to my local Jazzercise center and work out the demons for an hour. I’m certain that I must look like I’m not enjoying myself, but the truth is, I’m completely zoned out, mellowed, winding down, and decompressing. The louder the music, the better so I can’t hear my own thoughts. It’s even a cure for a headache.
The good news is, it no longer looks like this: