People fight to stay alive every day, Cause they know, life is worth more than worries, Make the best of it. . .

January 31, 2011



Just got back from walking the dogs.

I can't remember the last time I was out with them.

Meaning its been too long.

And now I remember what I missed.

The walking was good, necessary, cathartic.

Fresh air in my lungs, runny nose, the crunch of snow under my boots.



It was cold, but the sky was blue and the sun was out, so I didn't seem to bothered by it.

Plus, I was so bundled up that I was barely able to sit in the car.

Stephen was worried I might have to lay down in the back seat.

Two long sleeve shirts, a zip up sweater, long johns, my orange pants, two pairs of socks, my winter coat, two scarves, one of Stephen's hats because I don't own one of my own, two pairs of gloves and my old winter boots.

I'm surprised I could walk at all.

Stephen was surprised I was there.

Me, too.





Best of all, though, was watching Frankie and Tikka.

How they enjoy the simple pleasure of being outside, running around, leaping, hopping, sniffing, stopping every. five. seconds. for their ablutions. 

Snow on their muzzles. 

Their attempts to wander into the woods even though they know they're not supposed to.

Meeting up with other dogs, and seeing energy emanating in waves from Frankie while he runs with them, burning off all that excess juice.

Tikka and Frank have also had a rough week.

Mummy home, but in bed with the blinds down, Daddy in and out of the house running errands, Emmy on the couch watching tv, or at the very least looking at it.

Or Mummy and Daddy gone for long periods of time, only to return home smelling of Uncle and two dogs they haven't met yet.

Knowing only that they have not been outside anywhere near enough, and that they desperately want to be.

Need to be.

And it all came out this afternoon.

Thankfully.

Because keeping those two in the house for too long makes life miserable for ALL of us.

Garbage and recycling aren't safe.

Cats fear for their lives, knowing the second they make eye contact with Frankie, the chase is on.

Whether they want to be chased or not.

Kitty crunchies become the snack of the day.

Letting them run, wearing them out, means that Frankie spends the evening on the loveseat, comfortable and happy, even moving over if I want to sit there.

Tikka will move from couch to floor and back to couch again until she feels its time for me to get myself to bed.

Then the pawing and whining starts and continues with the expectation that I'll get fed up and move upstairs.

Somehow that doesn't seem to be a problem lately.

Now staying out of bed. . . .

That's a different story.






Tomorrow, however, all will change.

Up at 5.30, on campus by 8.00, class at 10.00.

I expect that the panic in my 2103 class is palpable.

Em is still home, as her second term doesn't start until Wednesday.

This morning was my trial run.

Up at 8.00.

A modified version of my morning routine.

I had my Simply for Life meeting this morning.

I was a little worried about my romp with the peanut butter macaroons.

A long, extended romp.

Of epic proportions.

Still, another 3.6 pounds have gone, making the total 40.8.

The weight, the walk, in part, is motivated by the realization that having a life to live is not something I should take for granted.

Because you never know what's going to happen.

Meaning that I need to live this life the best way I can, and treat myself as nicely as I can.

Exercise.

Eating well.

Trying to achieve balance.

Moving forward.

And remembering to be thankful for each day I'm with the people I love, doing something I'm good at (at least some of the time).

Cause you just never know what's gonna happen.

Ever.





Title Lyric: Celebrate Life by Lucky Dube