A Successful Mid-Summer Break

The shin splints are gone, and my spirits are refreshed after several days of no-stress fishing in very beautiful, un-Julyish weather. Many trout were caught, numerous fish released, and a few un-lucky ones had a meeting with the BBQ grill. YUM.

Shaping Up - Update

OUCH. Shin splints.

I have heard the only cure is a good long soaking in waters inhabited by trout...and if I'm soaking, I'm pretty much obligated to fish.

If I must, I must.

Health Care Worries

If you want an idea of why this current government-sponsored health care bill is a NIGHTMARE, listen to this Betsy McCaughey interview with Fred Thompson.

http://www.facebook.com/ext/share.php?sid=147494195032&h=f80sk&u=buHl_&ref=nf

So many people seem to think that "free" government sponsored health care is a good idea. Believe it or not, I used to think this at one time too, having been frustrated with my own experiences with health insurance. It's been a few years of doing research, reading, and trying to see things from all sides. Having done research and also talked to quite a few people who live or have lived in countries where health care is government provided, I DON'T think this is a good idea. Doctors no longer have incentive. Patients are just a number. Bureaucrats make the decisions on what care you can/can't get based on numbers on a paper. Old people and the infirm are viewed as "expensive liabilities" and worth less than healthy people, frequently DYING before care is approved or because care was not approved at all. Then, there's the HUGE TAXES to pay for it.

I'll be the first to admit that there are major problems with our current system, but I really believe we do have the best system and that these problems can be fixed through reform that doesn't take the control from us and doesn't put all control into the government's hands. I think it goes beyond politics. Whether you're Democrat or Republican, seriously ask yourself whether this is truly the direction we should go.

There are some serious questions I'd like to ask President Obama right now, including:

Why the hard push to get this passed when you admit you haven't read the bill, and admittedly aren't familiar with some of the basic tenants of the bill?

Why not slow down a bit, lay it ALL out, let the American people see it, read it, and then let the PEOPLE decide to fundamentally change the whole system?

Why did you vote AGAINST every health care reform bill that ever came up, but yet are trying to push this huge monstrosity through now as "health care reform"?

Why do you keep saying we can keep our current providers when it plainly states in the bill that we can't?

I have so many questions I can't list them all. I think of my Grandma, and I think of my parents when I hear this interview and others speaking out against this bill, and hear the big push to get this bill passed. I hear people who haven't done any research and who think they'll be getting "free health care" speaking in favor of this...some of the same people I've heard gripe about HMOs. This would be like a massive HMO. It would be like this CRAPPY Military TriCare my husband and I are on, where it's impossible to see a specialist or just to get someone to LISTEN. It's so bad people routinely refer to it as "Tri-UnCare." I'm surprised and dismayed that people are so willing to give up free will without really considering it.

And I'm scared.

A Quest to Shape Up

Recently I've lit a fire under my own butt to get in shape. I'm totally and completely appalled at the way my fitness has rapidly declined over the last few years. Once upon a time not too terribly long ago, I was a strong, lean, multi-sport college athlete. Now I'm not. Like so many many others, I've let life get in the way, and too many times used the excuse of "I worked hard today...I don't need excercise", so that eventually I got out of the habit.

Several recent events have, however, brought the issue to my attention. First, I'm currently on the church's co-ed softball team, and we play once a week. It's been at least 3 years since I've even been on a softball field, but I figured that since this is a sport I know inside and out, it would be business as usual. Heh. During the first game, after hitting a single to first, I thought my lungs were disintegrating. On the next hit I got thrown out at second because I was simply out of gas. Later in the game on my way from second to third, I tripped over my own feet to get a face full of dirt and had to frantically crawl back to second. How embarassing. I held my own in the outfield for a while, but eventually got burned on a fly ball I would've easily caught just three years ago. I knew the answer to my troubles but just didn't want to admit it. The sad truth is that I am *sigh* in my 30's now, and after a few years without any regular fitness it's really taken it's toll.

Then, I went to a routine doctor visit and found my resting heart rate to be 74. Not that great. Not HORRIBLE, but not great, either. I know that the doc's office isn't exactly the place to feel relaxed, so I tested myself later: 78. Eek. Granted, that's still in the realm of "normal", but it doesn't exactly scream healthy....especially when it used to regularly be in the low 60's.

The last is a real motivator...probably THE motivator. As mentioned in previous posts, we recently redid our bathrooms. In our master bath there is now a large mirror opposite the shower. *sigh* Soon my butt will have to have it's own zip code.

I've had countless people say things like, "Oh, that's just getting older" and "Yeah, once you hit 30 it's all downhill...nothing much you can do." What a load of utter horse pucky. Sure, I understand things slow down, body parts start giving in to gravity, it IS harder to lose weight, and you can't fight time...but you CAN be healthy, and I'm totally ashamed of myself for having to get BACK in shape when I never should've gotten out of it in the first place. I've let excuses rule my life, and I've had enough. Like on Stephanie's Pointed Meanderings blog recently - I need to get INTENTIONAL.

Hubby is also feeling the need for fitness. Now that he works with other full-time in-shape army types, he told me he's tired of walking around the office trying to appear normal and relaxed, all the while struggling to keep his gut sucked in. He even exercises more regularly than me, mostly because he has regular PT tests.

Our answer is a program really gaining popularity called Crossfit, which a lot of military people seem to use and we can do together. Every day a workout is posted to http://www.crossfit.com/, which is the kind of direction I need. I need to follow a specific program and be told what to do, and the program also encompasses many aspects of fitness - cardio, strength, endurance, balance, flexibility, and diet. It's also very hard-core, but the workouts can be modified to fit your fitness level (or lack of, in my case). I found this out on the FAQ page, after I panicked while checking the "Workout of the Day" (or "WOD"...this site really likes acronyms) and the assignment was "Run a 10K for time." I nearly fell out of the chair. I can't even run to first base. For no time. Imagine my relief when I found out their philosophy is to take it slow and work up to the WOD, which some people may never do, and to keep in mind age and gender may also affect the workout. I could be called feminist, but I'm also a realist. I'm pretty sure I'll never work up to doing 3 reps of 50 pull-ups. They also give lots of excercise substitutions - for instance, if you are like me and can't do a pull-up at all, do a negative pull-up, which is to get yourself up to the bar and let yourself down slowly. The whole idea is to get as close as possible without overdoing it. I kind of like that - always having a specific goal on the horizon, even if it *may* never be attained.

Right now my goal is to 1) stick with the running, and 2) survive the running. The rest I can handle.

They say runners fit into two categories: they either love running or they hate it. I don't fit into either...I LOATHE running. I always have. In high school track I did field events and was on a sprint team (4x100), but I stayed far from long distance events. In college I was always among the last to drag in after a distance run. The announcement of a "5-mile run today" always sent dread through my body, though I never minded sprint workouts. In the police academy I endured the morning runs, but never found that groove runners talk about getting into. I did significantly improve my running time over the 3 months, but to me that just meant a shorter time to suffer. I enjoyed no part of it.

I'm still searching for that groove. On my runs to the highway and back, I suffer all the old pains running always gives - my lungs feel like exploding, my knees feel funny, my throat feels swelled, my ears and even my teeth hurt. It's horrible. The reward only comes later in the form of tired muscles and the satisfaction that I'm making an effort, the hope that my runs will get easier, and the fact that even though I may miss a few days due to this or that, this time the routine seems to be well on it's way to habit.

My Sticky, Sticky Shoe...

Not only is that a Phoebe song from Friends, it now applies to the right flop of my favorite pair of flip-flops.

Side note: Remember when we could call them "thongs" without getting laughed at? Is that a sign of advancing age?

While down in Little Rock this week, looking at what may become our new abode (more on that later), I spent a few hours shopping while waiting for Marden to be off for lunch. One of my stops, of course, was Gander Mountain. Evidently the staff had been doing some re-arranging, and someone had peeled off the wide tape that had been down to mark aisles, but had not removed the sticky. While browsing the ladies's shorts I unknowingly landed my right foot squarely in this area. As I went to take another step, the shoe was stuck so forcefully that my foot came out, along with part of the strap, and I careened into a rack of "Life is Good" t-shirts. At that point life was not good...I was stuck in Gander Mountain with only one working shoe. I was, however, able to get the strap temporarily fixed, but now the bottom of the shoe was incredibly sticky.

Walking around on the concrete floor sounded something like, "flop...schllleeeeeeeep...flop...schlleeeeeeep...flop...schlllleeeeeeep..." Nice. Why always me? I guess a less-nice person would've sued, but instead I sheepishly made my way back to the car.

On to my destination - Academy Sports in the quest to find some running clothes. More on my workout intentions later, but for now I'll just mention that I am starting a new workout routine, and it occured to me on my first day of this routine that my workout clothes were in sorry shape. Several years with no regular workout-type exercise has not only taken a fitness toll, but a wardrobe toll as well. I was down to threadbare t-shirts from college, which really should be in the rag bin, and shorts (also mostly from my college days) with disintigrated elastic bands or holes. And I also thought it would be nice, solely for motivation's sake of course, to have nice new shorts and matching t's. If they happen to also be snazzy looking, well, that's just the price I have to pay to get in shape.

My problem in getting to Academy was mostly due to my fear of city driving. I get so irritated around Mountain Home getting behind a blue-hair from Chicago who can't drive hilly curves (a popular yankee technique is to floor it in the straight parts, run up on a curve, and slam on the brakes taking the curve at 20 mph). But, I've never really learned to comfortably city-drive, especially in areas I don't really know. I can do fine, but it sometimes comes with sweaty palms, gritted teeth, and white knuckles. In this particular area of town, it seems the road system was laid out by a drunk monkey. I had been to this Gander Mountain before, so arriving safely on the first try wasn't a problem. However, my drive to Academy Sports was a bit more interesting. I detest one-way outer roads, and this area is full of them. I drove by Academy no less than three times, like the Griswolds driving by Big Ben over and over again on the roundabout in Family Vacation.

"Look kids, there's Academy Sports!...Look kids, there's Academy Sports!"

I finally made it, in a mood not really fit for trying on shorts, but I eventually emerged victorious and with several new, cute (and on sale), running outfits.

Still hearing "Schlllleeeep...flop....shlllleeeeep...flop...", the whole way back to the car.

Berries, Gender-Confused Deer, and Bikes

Last week I FINALLY totally and completely finished work in the house with the installation of those final folding closet doors, installing base and door trim in and around said closet, and cutting/painting/installing new exterior trim for the back door. Neither job was even half as simple as it sounds, but oh so rewarding to proclaim, "It is DONE!" to nobody in particular.

Since hubby was at his weekend National Guard drill, I pointed my evil SUV toward my folk's for a little break. Naturally, since I like to think of myself as an accomplished multi-tasker, I also chose this visit to coincide with blackberry-picking time. Mom and Dad have some nice, productive bushes which were starts from Grandpa's bushes, and so far I've just got sprigs. I did manage to pick four blackberries this year. Not four cups...four berries. And, since moving is in our hopefully near future, the bushes will once again be uprooted and relocated (no way in heck I'm leaving them! This includes 5 blackberry and 10 gooesberry bushes.), and even next year four berries is likely all I can hope for.

Not that berries were my only motivation. Of course I wanted to visit, and I also wanted to see "Daisy", the fawn they've been raising for a few weeks now. Daisy showed up one day stuck in the fence, after being chased by a dog, with no mother doe in sight. Since it had been chased, needed doctoring from it's collision with the fence, and the folks with the neighboring farm had heard it hollering the day before, it was assumed that this was definately an occasion for intervention. It was a pet-peeve of mine as a Park Ranger that many well-meaning people would mistakenly kidnap fawns from mama deer every year, but in this case I'm certain the fawn needed the help.

Mom and Dad nursed it back to health, gave it antibiotic shots for an infected lip, and now it's growing like a weed. It's nose and mouth are still a little boogered up, but on the mend. He does seem to have a very prominent overbite, which could either be from injury or birth defect. However, it doesn't seemt to affect his eating. The only problem I spotted was the name "Daisy." They took for granted that the fawn was female, not having really investigated the very furry nether regions. And of course, I really have to know these things, so I made the discovery that "she" was really "he", and the name was promptly changed to "Davy."

Davy spends most of his time laying in the tall weeds down close to the creek or out in the blackberry bushes, only coming when he's called for to take a bottle. And he does come running, nearly barrelling over the bottle-holder. He's pretty spooky of people, which is a good thing, but he did get used to me enough to keep me company while berry picking (along with Dixie and Toby the cat), and he came over for a head-scratch from time to time before wandering off.

Aside from picking berries and determining fawn gender, I also went with Dad on a motorcycle ride. Dad's a "Prospect" for a local motorcycle club, and they were participating in a huge area fund raiser for Muscular Dystrophy. This is us heading to Joplin with a group of club riders. The rally was pretty cool - lots of cool bikes, and lots of bikers. I like looking at bikes, and the bikers were no less interesting. Not that I'm bashing bikers at all. Bikers are some of the nicest people out there, who do immeasurable good for various charities - it's just that if I were to become a biker, I'm not sure I'd fit in with appearance. I DID find out, though, that a great place to keep cigarettes is in your bra strap. I assume this provides for easy access and hands-free storage.

Unfortunately the mullet-hunting wasn't very productive at this event. Bikers and bike fans don't seem to sport mullets, instead favoring more normal and likely helmet-friendly hairdos, ranging from shaved heads, to normal hair (Dad fits into this category), to overall long hair pulled into a ponytail. We still haven't quite talked Dad into the clip-on ponytail, but I think it would look dashing, and it might make him feel more like a biker.

The most eye-catching item I spotted was a very prominently displayed belly. This guy was incredibly proud of his rotund appendage, showcasing the roundness for all to enjoy with a inadequate t-shirt and shortie-shorts. It's not certain how this belly was attained. My assumption is years of hard work with beer cans and hot dogs, but one can never be sure with a specemin of this magnitude.

Man that's a lotta goats

Interesting Read

Article by Conservative David Kahne titled, "I Still Hate You, Sarah Palin".

http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=NDE3MmE5MDVmMGM1YjQ2NmVhMjJkN2I2ZTcxMzhlNjU=&w=MA==

Fiddle Update

It's been some time since I've updated my fiddle-making progress, and in answer to some inquiries I thought I'd better post some pics. Believe it or not I'm still hard at it, and have actually made some good headway in recent months. I'm starting to really believe that someday I will be actually playing this thing.

I finally finished the fiddle back, which literally took MONTHS. Granted, I didn't exactly work on it every day, but I really think had I carved it out of marble it would've been quicker than the cement-like cherry! It's been worth it, though...even though I put in twice as much work as the two other fiddle-students, my cherry back is much prettier than their plain maple backs. I'm really glad I didn't cave and give up on the cherry in favor of a softer wood. Believe me, it was harrowing getting it to the finished point. Many weeks I thought I'd be done, only to hand it to Violet for inspection and get a "nope, not yet" or "what's this hump here?" or "I can feel sandpaper marks"...but, I appreciate her honesty, otherwise I'd see mistakes later. Patience is tough.

After the back was finally proclaimed "finished", and after I did a exuberant victory dance, I had to go back to the sides and get them cleaned up a bit with some very fine sandpaper, then carefully measure and fit the back to the sides with clamps. Since it'd been so long since finishing the sides, they'd changed shape just a tad, so I trimmed the back just a bit for a better fit. Then, with some special fiddle glue which smelled something like dirty feet wrapped in an old dog blanket, I very carefully applied the glue and clamped (and I mean CLAMPED) the sides and back together. It was an extremely nerve-wracking day.

Once the glue was good and dry and all the friggin' clamps were removed, I could cut out the top. For this I had two pieces of sassafras wood which I'd glued together last fall since it wasn't wide enough for a one-piece. Once the top was cut, it was once again time for the fear and trepidation of using the hand-ax in order to quickly get the wood to shape:

Luckily I didn't whack off anything important, including fingers, toes, or any other appendages. Unlike the experience with ax-ing the back, this time I didn't chop off any large chunks which had to be glued back on, and soon it was ready for finer knife work.

Along with working on the back, I also started work on my fiddle neck, again out of cherry to match the back and sides. I wish I had more "in progress" pictures of it, but I wasn't actually sure it would turn out the way I wanted so I didn't bother with pics...oh well. I knew from the beginning that I wanted a unique fiddle, and that I wanted to do something different for the neck than just the traditional scroll. Violet did some of hers with a horse's head, and I thought I'd do the same. Until, that is, turkey season. You might wonder what turkey season has to do with fiddles, but turkey hunting requires a lot of time just sitting and doing nothing, which really lets your brain do some wandering. While sitting in the woods waiting on that elusive gobbler, I happened to notice an oak leaf curled up, which reminded me of a fiddle head. Viola! There's my unique idea, and here is my fiddle head. It's not quite finished...and it's of course not perfect. During it's carving I had a plethora of discouraging guesses as to what it was going to be by other people, including a manatee, a hippo, a cat, a softball, and flower. I have to say it wasn't doing much for my confidence. I wish I'd been able to curl the leaf under a bit more, because now there's a flat area that just doesn't look right. But, I'm experimenting with carving a few little acorns to glue in that flat spot, which I think is going to turn out pretty cool.

Carving a slot into which the neck fits was also an unforeseen challenge - and again it's not perfect. I keep having to remind myself that this is a learning process, and my first one WON'T be perfect, no matter how careful I am or how hard I try.

So, this is my fiddle so far...minus the top, fingerboard, tailpiece, pegs, sound peg, fine-tuners, and strings.

In case you're wondering I'm also still playing - I'm now up to 26 tunes, if you can believe it! I didn't say I played them WELL - that's still the major challenge.