I need to admit several things tonight.
No. 1 - Talking for more than an hour on the phone with my sibling makes my face break out.
I will happily chat with my oldest daughter for days on end, and we never seem to run of things to talk/gossip/complain/praise.
And I don't seem to have any acne developments from this.
But about once a month, I call my brother, and normally leave a message on his answering machine, and he calls me back later when he can.
And we don't have a conversation - we have an exchange of obscure musical trivia facts.
I openly confess that I am incredibly jealous of my brother's brain. He has what is commonly referred to as a photographic memory, and besides the retention of an impossible amount of facts, is a talented and able musician.
Unfortunately, my brother's brain is almost missing a few things. Such as the regular give-and-talk of a tête-à-tête - letting the other person get a word in edgewise.
So somehow an hour on the phone becomes, literally, an hour with the phone stuck on my face as I resign myself to occasionally "uh hu,"s and "yeah, right"s, while I attempt to take care of the dogs, fill the horses' water, finish the dishes and eat my own dinner.
And then I notice that I am developing a sixteen-year-old-worthy zit on my left cheek.
No. 2 - I cannot walk and talk.
For years, I have excused my noticeable lack-of-grace with the glib idiom "I can't chew bubble gum and walk to the same time."
A common method of determining if you are running a good pace is to make certain you can talk while you are running.
I have never been able to do that. I have trouble talking while I am walking.
My lungs have extremely diminished capacity (I love 'diminished' - the word shrinks as you pronounce it) small due to a collapsed sternum , or what is called pectus excavatum - also referred to as a 'monkey chest' in children.
Regardless, I used to run four miles at a time… just really, really slowly.
Today, as I was huffing and puffing on a fairly short walk over to the mud football field to move the water hose for the 474th time this week (but boy, am I getting a impressive crop of mud), I finally accepted something.
I need to breath in with one step, breath out with the next. Without speaking. To just be able to walk and keep my breath.
No. 3 - I have been keeping up with daily exercise, smaller portions, healthier food for over two weeks… and I have GAINED four pounds.
She wants her planet back. Woolfy – “Shooting Stars” Funny how his voice in
this song made me think he was singing ratchet instead of rapture. I heard
this...
0 comments:
Post a Comment