Tag Archives: live smiley

The World Is My Dance Floor

Sure, I should be writing about how much I love running again. More likely, I should be finishing up my work report.

But, I’m not because the kids are asleep, I’ve got a cool one in my hand, and the buds in my ears. It’s a Friday night dance-a-thon right here in my living room.

Put down that remote and join me on the living room dance floor!

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My front windows double as dance studio mirrors! Yes, I think I can dance.

Edit: you know what is great about being your own DJ? You can replay a great song until you get your fill, skip a song that doesn’t “move” you, and pause your favorite until you get done peeing! I love Friday night living room dance floor!

Edit: Proof that you never know what is going to move you. Currently playing, Sonata in C Minor.

Edit: you know what’s great about ear buds? I can crank the music as loud as though it would shatter the windows but the kids can still sleep! That would be Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Edit: Lynard Skynard said, “turn it up,” so I did.

Edit: It’s getting late/I’m getting old. Now, I’m sitting in a chair nodding my head to the beat.

Double edit: Tainted Love… It calls for a return to the floor.

Edit: the night is never over till ABAA has been played. Take A Chance On Me and you’ll see I’m right.

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Sledding

The winter night concealed the rate at which the icy snow passed underneath the saucers generating a pack of fearless riders. We sat side by side on saucers at the top of the hill counting in unison, one, two, three! Six sets of eyes scanned the landscape below for darkened shapes suggesting a tree, a bush, or even a fence.

The kids pushed off first, my sister and I allowing them to gain a small lead before we began our rapid pursuit.

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The saucers fanned out but I quickly caught up to my niece and hooked into her arm becoming a two (wo)man speeding train. Across the hill I heard peels of laughter, squeals of delight, and statements of awesomeness. My saucer spun around till our train was flying backwards restricting my view of our path and the obstacles in it. I dragged my right mittened hand to redirect the train and shortly yelled, “BAIL! BAIL! BAIL!” The niece and I rolled off our saucers about 5 feet before a prodigious weeping willow.

“Hurry! We have to do that again!”

There is nothing quite like the magic of nighttime sledding. Besides the kids feeling fearless, I felt like the last thirty decades had blurred together making me ten years old again. I was not merely relating a childhood memory to them; they were living my childhood right along side of me.

I stood at the bottom of the hill marveling at Dad’s home, my childhood home, my home. The warm light from the living room reflecting off the snow giving everything at the top an orange hue. The moment was timeless and the joy endless.

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Filed under family, Michigan, snow

Gone, baby, gone

I sat in the chair nearly choking from the cape wrapped around my neck to protect me from the detached hair.  Those with cameras crept closer to capture the picture with tears in my eyes as the young boy began to saw away at my ponytails.

There was no sadness, I was mad.  Mad with delight, that is.  I’d been waiting impatiently for a year to cut my hair.  If I hadn’t been so determined to donate, at least, the minimum length required by Pantene Beautiful Lengths then I would have cut my hair 20 times over by now.

I have never had long hair before and I’m not so sure I’d ever grow it long again.

X number of things I’ll never miss about my long hair:

1. Getting it caught under the shoulder strap of whatever bag or backpack I am carrying.

2. Having the wind blow it into my mouth when I’m eating.

3. Having to readjust ponytails or buns because I want to rest my head back on the couch or a pillow.

4. falling into my kids faces when I bend over to kiss them good night.

5. The gigantic snarl forming at the nap of my neck if I wear it down and loose for more than an hour.

6. My husband cursing at the hair laying all over the house.

7. Not being able to fall asleep in the winter if I take a shower right before bed because the long, wet hair will make my head cold.

8. Feeling dampness across the back of my shirt from my wet hair after a shower

I hope someone else can enjoy my hair because I won’t miss it at all.

Before the cut

Making the cut

After

 

And a big THANKS to Handsome Alice, the beauty shop in town that got me back to looking normal afterward.

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Who-ha-he-ha-ha-hoo

Saturday was the kind of weekend day runners dream of having every week.  It was sunny but not too warm, breezy but not too windy, and quiet but not too dull.  If there was anything wrong with Saturday, it would be the same problem as every beautiful Saturday that is filled with projects, chores, places to go or be or having a spouse with places to go or be thus limiting a runner’s time to run free.  Still, a runner never complains about a 30 minute run on a beautiful day.  We might wish for more but we never complain

Yet, I wasn’t quite ready to surrender to the couch when I returned home for my turn at monitoring the kids thus allowing the hubs to fulfill his weekend obligations.  I didn’t have the freedom to roam the streets but there was indubitably no reason why I couldn’t go a few rounds with the punching bag in the garage.

Murphy’s Law for Mothers states: Whenever a mother is at home and decides to do something for herself, her children will find a legitimate reason to interfere  Note: most children will attempt every illegitimate reason prior to resorting to an actual legitimate reason. 

I had only just grabbed the boxing gloves when I heard the door to the family room open.  Without much surprise and as much disappointment, I watched Mikel bound into the garage.  Rightly, I then tossed my disappointment into the trash and got over myself.  As a mother, I realize the importance of encouraging my son to ‘exercise’ and build strength.  He’s not the kind of kid that participates in organized sports.  He’s more like the scrawny, wants-to-watch-tv-or-read type.  So, I conceded control of the gloves and let him pound it out while I kept my heart rate up with a series of moves like kicks and shadow punches.

In good time, my hands filled the gloves allowing me a spell to work the bag over.  Mikel climbed onto the treadmill in his bare feet. (I’m so proud!)  Ironically, I quickly grew bored with the boxing.  Apparently, I didn’t have much of a reason to be disappointed when my workout was interrupted by my son.  That should teach me to be a little less selfish.  All the same, I toiled on, counting out the punches and combinations while Mikel walked on the treadmill.  As it went, I grew weary of the task.

Here’s where I bow to the genius of Mikel.

It took me a moment to recognize the sounds.  Mikel was on the treadmill saying Who-ha-ha-he-he-ha-ho as though he was punching the bag or, more likely, training me from the treadmill.  Willingly, I followed the path of my trainer, my son.  With every punch, I let out a forceful hee or ha or ho.  Before I knew it, my heart rate was up, I was throwing punches like Mohammad Ali’s middle-aged, distant cousin who ate too many fun-size snickers and to top it all off, IT WAS FUN.  Somehow the noises disconnected the thinking part of my brain.  I don’t know how long we who-ha-he-ha-ha-ho’d but I’m certain it was at least fifteen minutes longer than I would have endured if not for Mikel.

I presented him with a sweaty hug after he clinched his mile.  Then, I graciously thanked him for assisting me in my workout but mostly for evoking a boisterous one.  Who-ha-he knew?

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Filed under Barefoot, family, Lessons learned, personality flaws, Weight loss

Who’s A Stylish Blogger

Stylish is not one of the worlds that people associate with me. However, Liene** erroneously attached that word to my name or more precisely, my blog. Liene is the girl who’s going with this kid who knows this guy that told the girlfriend of a brother of the boyfriend of the sister of my best friend (it’s a backwards quote) and has a blog over at Femme au foyer.

This is what she had to say:

I would like to pass the stylish blogger award on to these lovely ladies:
….
Barefoot Roses at A Barefoot Rose By Any Other Name for her unique barefoot style
….

I think someone should examine Liene’s head. And, they might as well do mine while they are at it. I’m not much of a girly-girl but I guess that I do some stylish things. Such as:

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1. Painted Toes – I don’t wear nail polish on my fingers but I won’t go in public without my toes polished. Going barefoot gives me the excuse I need to keep my toes up to date and show off that bright color. My current favorite is #381 Russet Flame. Yoowza!

2. Jewelry – this past summer I reacquainted myself with toe rings. I wore a toe ring for most of my younger adult life until I lost it or had kids or ate a monster or something like that. Now, that I am back to being barefoot all the time, I felt a replacement toe ring was required. It’s shiny and silver. I never know it’s there except when it reflects the light and catches my eye.

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3. Mud masks – one can pay a couple hundreds of dollars for a day at the spa to have a mask applied to remove toxins and minimize pores. Or, one can head to their local creek side trail shortly after the waters recede from the lowlands. The mud on that trail is cool, comfortable and helps remove toxins like fat. I’m a fan of both kinds of mud masks.

 

Santa Socks!

4. Winter socks – With the onset of cooler temperatures, I sadly have to put on protective wear. Fortunately, there is this little thing every girl can get excited about. SOCKS! I’ve always had a soft spot for crazy holiday socks but last year I got hooked on wild everyday socks too. Turns out, I’m just one in a million with a sock fetish. Not that I mind, it just means the sock manufacturers will continue to feed my need.

So, my final stylish thing is to buck the tradition of the stylish bloggy award. I’m supposed to list seven stylish things I do. I only have four. Since I doubt you care, I quit.

I am giving my sister the next Stylish Blog award because her reviews are straight to the point. How she has time to watch movies AND review them, I’ll never know. So check Penny Rose out at Two Thumbs Up. (if only I could go on about those two thumbs up! Let’s just say, sisters stick together).

**Visit Liene, a pregnant Latvian descendant, American Expat, living in France with two cats, Roberts, and Lauris. Seriously, she makes fountains very interesting. But don’t miss out on the hunt for white eggs at Easter.

It has taken me so long to write this blog post that I don’t even care if it has good writing style or not. It’s posted!!

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Filed under Barefoot, personality flaws

No Regard For Dignity

As I mentioned in my sleeping post, we defied the weather forecast last Saturday by going camping at the K3 state park with our Cub Scout pack. With so many eager learners and helpers our camp was hoisted in record time. The scouts and their siblings were running around the area. Although the camping area was plentiful, we agreed that a hike might burn off some of the youthful energy.

Our hike traversed the two track converted into a bike path nicely lined with a multitude of foliage. Sure, adults lose some ability for imaginative play as we grow older. In exchange, we know how to stop and smell the tree leaves. That youthful energy quickly grew tired of observing the differences between trees. Their faces said, “Dude, they’re just green leaves.”

Fortunately, I have little regard for maintaining my dignity. The kids and I skipped, ran backward, side-stepped, laughed, walked with high knees, galloped, raced, grew breathless and smiled. We let loose and had some fun with it.

I’m not dismissing the retrospective nature walk. I like a good dendrology lesson as much as the next corn based, plastic soled, shoe wearer. It’s just that sometimes it’s fun to dismiss your dignity. You’ve got to live smiley and sometimes being silly helps accomplish that.

We went on that night to tell scary stories by the campfire that night. I, on the other hand, faced the scariest story right there on that two-track. One mom was telling another mom that her Shape-Ups really work. SCCCCCCRRREEEEAAAAMMM!

I’m not going to argue whether those shoes work or not. I don’t have any scientific evidence to back my opinion. I do like this article, Can Shoes Really Tone the Body? By Gretchen Reynolds from The NewYork Times. And, I have to agree with the FTC’s move to fine Reebok for making claims without scientific evidence. I have my own personal concerns after living 35+ years in various shoes that altered my center of gravity and forced my feet into unnatural positions. I admit, I used to love high heels. I gave up on them when I started to develop bunions. I also had life long issues with pointed toe shoes. Don’t give me that look. Even my penny-loafers of my high school years pushed my big toe inward. Consequently, I have concerns regarding toning shoes. I really don’t see how these strangely shaped soles can be good for you to wear all day, day in and day out.

Sorry, I got side tracked and ended up on a soap box just to tell you that after the Shape-Ups statements, I declared my love for barefooting and took my shoes off to race the boys on that gravel covered two-track. Imagine, I’m wearing jeans and a sweatshirt over a long sleeve t-shirt under my Class B uniform T-shirt while carrying my New Balance Minimus in my hand. Again, its useful that I have no regard for dignity. With that much clothing on, I got hot within a quarter mile. My feet begged to go farther but it was going to be another twenty-four hours before I’d see a shower so I wasn’t willing to stink up the tent for that nights sleeping. See, it was about odor issues not lack of dignity in becoming a sweaty mess.

In the end, our mission was accomplished. The youthful energy tanks were half empty just in time for the S’mores.

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Filed under Barefoot, minimalist shoes, personality flaws

Reinstating Thesaurus Thursday

Since joining the Run Smiley Collective, I quit training.   Let me back up, I quit competing in races so there was no need to cultivate my body for precision running.  Gone are the days when I would wake early in the morning to fret that the run wouldn’t be sufficient to inure my body for long distances, steep hills and oppressive heat. 

Now, I ponder, can a person continue to run without a mission other than just for zest?        

Yes, I believe they can.  The Run Smiley theory is probably one of the most effective methods to habituate an athlete. 

When I run I for as long as I enjoy it; I run as fast as I can enjoy it.  When I am done running, I count the minutes until I can run again. 

Now tell me, does it sound like I have acclimated to run?

Thanks to Barefoot Angie Bee for supplying today’s Thesaurusized word.

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