Bowling

I was sitting here this morning, minding my own business, checking out comments left on my blog, when a whirring of motion outside on the road caught my eye. What’s this? Uhg…Bowling Day!

Each year the local university holds a big bike race out here in the valley. Why, I don’t know. You’d think they could pick a nice, long, wide, straight road. But no, they find the hills and corners challenging. And they ought to, what with my bowling score.

I gave City Boy a call this morning while I was out for my walk. “Guess what I’m doing?” I asked him.

“What?”

“Bowling! I’ve already got two strikes!”

“Leave the bicycles alone!”

City Boy is no fun sometimes.

I brought my camera along with me, thinking I may at least try for a few decent shots of the bowling pins as they rushed past me down the road. Wouldn’t you know I had a camera malfunction? My lens had a hard time focusing. I had to take some time to figure out what was wrong with it. Before long, I was distracted by all the other things that I found a great deal more interesting than silly boys in tight fitting spandex riding bowling pins down the road.

Where did this tree come from?

The neighbor just strung a new barbed wire fence.

Look at that fluffy cow scratching her butt with her horns!

Oh, wow! A slug!

Darling and I went ran into the city a little later. We passed by a group of pins on our way.

“You got your seat belt on, Darling?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Open your door, I think I can pick up a spare!”

It's time to shed a few...

Taffy and Baron Von Milchschaf

Taffy is a great mother! As hard as it's been raining, the other sheep still venture outside during the day to graze a bit. Taffy would normally do the same. And while her shed has been open to allow her such a treat, she's kept her boys tucked safe and dry inside. I've had other ewes stupid enough to lamb outside in weather like this! Today the sun came out, and Taffy brought the boys out for their first adventure. She's a smart little ewe, that girl.

Go ahead! You just tell me this isn't the most adorable lamb you've seen on a blog today!

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So anyway, here I sit. Pondering. It's all Savvycityfarmer's fault that I'm wondering if there will ever be a day I can snap the waist closed on those inspiration jeans. They've only been hanging there for what, six weeks? I ought to have shed a few pounds by now, but I haven't. I started out okay; bought a few carrots, went on a few long walks, and did some sit ups. But then I caught a cold, and who wants to do sit ups when they've got a cold? And everything was down hill from there.

Inspiration Jeans...are you as tired of seeing them on this hanger as I am?

But my jeans are still hanging where I see them every morning and every evening...in fact, every trip to the loo, as they hang over my tub (where I'm sure to notice them when I slip into my bubble bath...along with my not so slim waistline.) I'd hoped hanging them there would shame me into some progress, but it hasn't. Instead I've been stuffing my face with things such as Oreo cookies...although they weren't the double stuff, if that counts for anything.

Whilst skipping through blogland (I probably should have been skipping around the yard) I came across a site that was a Bloggie nominee; Fat Cyclist. It seemed like a blog I ought to at least peek at; perhaps it would be inspirational...more so than my jeans have proven to be. The guy's been cycling for a couple of years now and shed about 20 lbs. I think that's great! But I'd like to take those 20 off a bit quicker, so cycling probably won't be my weight loss method of choice. Plus, I've never been very good at balancing.

If I recall, my first bike was given to me when I was about six years old. It was red and shiny and pretty...and very dangerous. A person could get killed falling off one of those things! It had only two wheels, after all, and no strings to keep you upright. I was not getting on that. No way, no how.

But my father, the same man who later coaxed me into standing on treacherous, slippery rocks for a chance at a fish, also talked me into trying the bike. I'd get on, and he'd push, promising he wouldn't let go. He lied. I fell. They say I wouldn't have fallen if I hadn't looked over my shoulder to realize he'd let go, but I think they were lying about that, too.

My dad put in countless frustrating hours trying to get me upright on that bike. I'm not sure how long it took me to finally get the hang of it, but I never did enjoy it much. My parents would get their bikes out; there was one of those infant seats on the back of one of them for Little Hitler, and they'd stick me on my bike so we could do the family bike ride thing. It was like we were supposed to be Austrian, without Julie Andrews and the clothing made from curtains. It never sat well with me. It especially didn't sit well that Little Hitler got to ride in that little seat (oh, don't go giving me the 'she was only three' routine! I'm sure she had a trike.)

So as you can see, bicycling is probably not me weapon of choice against the poundage around my middle. Plus, then I'd be among those horrifying pedalists that people like me are always bowling for.

Cyclists pretending their pins in a bowling alley.

No, I'll need to come up with some other fashion of losing weight. Obviously, I'm not too good at sticking to exercise plans (the sit ups have failed so far), and I do love my sugar. The only thing I can think of that may work is personal humiliation. Yes...I think I'm going to go ahead and toss those numbers up on this blog for the whole danged world to see. But I am not going to post a picture of myself in a swimsuit, or even shorts, like those commercials on TV. Nope. Not going to happen. And really...you wouldn't want to see it!

I'm not going to update every day like the fat bicyclist does, but I'll try to do a once a week update. And you all have to keep me in line. If you should find me stuffing my face with oreos again, yell at me! Should you see my truck automatically hanging a right at the Dairy Queen...well...is it okay to have a blizzard now and then? NO! The answer is no! Don't let me do it! I'm assigning you the role of junk food police. Tomorrow I'll weigh myself and post it (ouch!) for everyone to see. And I'll also tell you my target weight. As soon as I actually get there, we'll celebrate, okay? Okay. Just keep me away from the oreo cookie isle.

It's Time to Come Clean!

Isn't it beautiful???

Look! Sunshine! I’m so happy to see the sun. It’s been nothing but clouds here for so long. Pictures are so much prettier when they’ve got blue sky in them.

After reading yesterday’s blog post about my having a hard time getting my clothes on, City Boy has offered to help me get dressed. Oh, please, as if! Get your collective minds out of the gutter, will you? After 27 years of marriage, the man has seen my tiny hiney in all it’s dimpled glory and trust me, he’s in a bigger hurry than I am to get me properly covered.

So here’s the deal. I live on a twisty, windy little country road that has virtually no passing available. Double yellow line all the way from town.

This is the double yellow line going down the road in front of my house.

This is a double yellow line, up close, for all of you who ride bicycles.

So why on God’s green earth do these cyclists feel the need to come out here to ride their little two wheelers? Today there were a couple guys from the university out here. They actually show up quite often, wearing their little spandex WWU outfits. I’ve grown rather weary of having to follow along behind them; they take up the whole bloody road, riding side by side.

Cyclists in tight fitting spandex taking up the entire lane on my twisty, curvy doubled yellow lined road.

I’m so tired of cyclist using my tax payer dollars for their little biking enjoyment that I’ve developed a game to play with them. It’s called bowling for bicycles. Now, you could make it a simple game and just run into them from behind, but that would take the sport out of it. What you do is sneak up alongside, then open up your car door, smacking the one in the rear in the…well…rear! Send him flying far enough to knock down his buddy and mark down your score. If you’re lucky, there’ll be a whole herd of them (or are they flocks? Perhaps a gaggle; I never remember) and you can actually bowl a strike!

Now...are you ready? Here it is! Winsday!!!!

Yup, and most of you have already guessed what I'm going to be asking you. I want to know your most embarrassing moments! That's right, folks, bring it on. Come Clean! It's good for the soul...or at least for a laugh. And if it turns out you're able to not only laugh at yourself and get others to laugh along with you, you could just find yourself with a gift basket full of handmade bath and body care products valued at over $50!

Now, here's a twist you likely hadn't considered; not only will the winning entry win the grand prize, but I'll be sending out a second gift to one lucky winner who's name will be drawn from the comments that get posted! So even if you've not got the most embarrassing story, you could still win!

I'll be accepting stories all day on Winsday and Thursday...then letting you know on Friday who our winner is =) Have fun!