Wanderlust versus Homebody

First of all, I woke up this morning and it was the last day of November. Where does time go? I really need things to slow down! It seems like yesterday that I wrote my last post about it being November 1.

I just returned from a 10-day trip to Burlington (Vermont - not Iowa) and Boston. In some ways, it seemed I was gone a really long time. But, actually, I was only away from work for six days. And, that isn't even 100% true, because I checked my e-mail and kept up with critical work items every day.

When I travel--which, to me, doesn't happen nearly enough--I find myself being absorbed into my new surroundings. I sit, observe, and wonder what it would be like to live and work wherever it is I am visiting. What would I be like? Would I talk differently? Would I eat different foods? Would I enjoy other activities? Who would be my friends? What would be my favorite restaurant? How would I get to work -- drive or public transportation? What house would I live in? In my private anthropological excursion, money is no object, and I envision myself living in some fantastic places.

I visited Boston for the first time on this trip. I loved it! If I lived in Boston, I would live in the Beacon Hill neighborhood. Like here:

Acorn Street - Beacon Hill

Or here:

I would walk everywhere and would frequent the fabulous restaurants in the North End and the numerous Irish Pubs.

Wanderlust: A strong desire for or impulse to wander or travel and explore the world.

The other thing that happens when I travel is that it heightens my desire to travel more. Oh, if only there was unlimited travel funds and unlimited vacation time from work available!


Getting ready to hike the Freedom Trail

Homebody: A person who enjoys the warmth and simple pleasures of being at home.



Now, as I sit in my own bed, surrounded by my own things (missing only my baby Bailey, who is still at the farm), I think that there is a side of me who loves to be at home.

On the heels of Thanksgiving, of the many blessings for which I am forever grateful, I am thankful for my health and my steady employment with a company that provides me with paid vacation.

Wanderlust or Homebody -- I'll take both, thank you.

I woke up and it was November...

Man, have you noticed that the older you get the faster time passes? Why is that? I remember being a kid and thinking that time moved ever so s-l-o-w-l-y. Christmas...took forever to arrive. The end of the school year....agony. Now, it almost seems like a month zooms by while you are sleeping. Well, maybe that's just at my house because I'm keenly aware that I'm now 63 days from the big 5-0. And, no, I'm not referring to Hawaii 5-0.

Fittingly, when I went to the ski swap on Sunday, it was rainy and freezing. Oh, sure, it was probably still about 50 degrees but the constant rain and the cold wind made it just miserable to be poking around under a big tent looking for skis and boots. Now, today, on the first day of November, it was sunny and 74 degrees when I walked Bailey after work. What a beautiful day. I was reminded that it was time for my monthly update on the passage of the seasons. As a reminder, this was October:

Willow Park - October 1

And this was today:

Willow Creek Park - November 1

The beautiful golden leaves are gone, and the grass is going dormant. This picture was taken at about 5:00 p.m. What is another sign of winter encroaching is that by this time next week, it will nearly be dark at 5:00 p.m. after we "fall back" this coming weekend. We're on that slow decline to the shortest day of the year.

A friend posted something on Facebook today about All Saint's Day. I was immediately transported back to sixth grade at Farley-Bankston Catholic Grade School. We didn't wear costumes to school on Halloween. Oh no....we got to dress up as our patron saint on November 1 for All Saint's Day. I hated sixth grade. My school had this brilliant idea to split up the sixth grade class and send half of us "upstairs" to be mingled in with the seventh and eighth graders. The other half stayed "downstairs" and were mingled in with the fourth and fifth graders. I'm not sure how you were chosen for one or the other group, but I suppose they thought those of use sent upstairs were more mature or smarter or something. Well, after a few months, really all that happened is that my confidence and self-esteem were shot to hell. I'm not sure I learned much of anything that year. There was a particularly ornery group of eighth grade boys who delighted in disrupting class each day. Our poor English teacher, in her first year of teaching, was so traumatized that I'm not sure she ever taught again.

But I digress -- All Saint's Day. I was all excited to dress up as Saint Carol because I was the only Carol in sixth, seventh, or eighth grade. But, then, Sister Mary Anne told me that Carol was the feminine of Charles, so I'd have to dress up as a man. NO WAY! So, then I planned to dress up as St. Ann, my middle name, but one of the seventh grade girls who was kind of intimidating was dressing up as her. Even back then, I went out of my way to avoid conflict. I went with Marie (derivation of Mary), which is my confirmation name and my Grandma's name. Yup, very original, I dressed up as the Virgin Mary. I cut a hole in an old white sheet and put that over my head then wrapped an old blanket that I dyed blue around my shoulders. I did all this without my mother's assistance. Who knows where I got the sheet, the blanket, and not to mention the blue dye! My resourcefulness was outed when I was selected to be in a photo for the local newspaper. Then, my mom was like "why didn't you ask me for help? That didn't look very good?" Well, I'm sure Jesus didn't care what Mary looked like, now, did he?

There was a great episode of This American Life on NPR last Saturday. The whole hour was devoted to the awful experiences of middle school. It was funny and sad and real all at the same time. I highly recommend it. You can find it here:

http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/449/middle-school

The rest of this month is going to be crazy. I have to go to Arlington, Virginia next week for work; Lawrence, Kansas the week after that; then off to Vermont for 10 days. I hope my baby doesn't forget about me while she's on her extended stay at the farm.


Sweet Bailey at Willow Creek Park



Bring It On Old Man Winter!

A couple of things happened in the past few days that got me thinking about snow. Don't get me wrong, I have loved loved loved the glorious fall weather we have had for the past month. But, we all know it is there, lurking in the darkness, and I--for one--am ready.

First, I was tasked with purchasing items for a "Trim the Tree" gift basket for my work team to donate to our United Way silent auction. Off I went to Hobby Lobby with the loot contributed by my coworkers. Score! All the Christmas items were 40% off, so $125 went a long way in putting together a pretty huge basket of items to deck your tree. As I wandered up and down the aisles checking out all the new Christmas merchandise, still neatly stacked on the shelves and in pristine condition, it made me excited to pull out my own holiday decorations and get the house looking all cozy for the holidays. Yes, yes, I know we still have two major holidays to get through before Christmas is here. But, I can be excited nonetheless.

Then, beginning on Friday, the news was abuzz with the Nor' easter that was going to hit the east coast with a pre-Halloween snow storm. The Weather Channel reported:

The storm smashed record snowfall totals for October and worsened as it moved north. Communities in western Massachusetts were among the hardest hit. Snowfall totals topped 27 inches in Plainfield, and nearby Windsor had gotten 26 inches by early Sunday.

OK, I'm glad we haven't gotten 27" of snow just yet, but still, the first few snowfalls are always exciting, right?

Being all in the holiday and winter spirit, I tagged along with my niece and her husband, my little nephew, and my sister-in-law to a ski swap at Tyrol Basin in Wisconsin. We were really in search of new boots and skis for my little nephew, who seemingly has grown about a foot in less than a year. (Well, that might be a stretch, but he's clearly bigger than most of the other 4 year olds at preschool.)

They didn't have the right size boots for Carter, but he did come away with a nice helmet complete with iPod compatibility so you don't need to wear earbuds.

Carter and his new ski helmet.

I succumbed to all the fancy new skis, too. New boots and poles:

Big improvement from my circa 1978 boots!

My new skis are still at the ski shop getting the bindings adjusted. As if being asked my height and weight wasn't humiliating enough (usually only my doctor is privy to this classified information), the "child" who was helping me asked if I was over 50. (I guess I should be thankful that it wasn't seemingly evident that I am on the cusp of 50.) I asked, "Why? Is there an old person setting on the bindings?" He looks at me with a bit of sympathy and replies, "Well, actually, there is. We are required to put the setting at a quicker release for anyone over 50, so that if you fall you won't blow out your knee or hip as easily." Oh, well, I say, I want that...sign me up. Sheesh...who knew getting old was so complicated. 

I was pretty loyal to Rossignols back in the day, but the skis are K2. The price was right, so I couldn't pass up a good deal. And, having my niece present as my ski consultant was priceless.

Here's hoping the new winter skis are as successful as the new water ski was this year.

Bottom line: I guess the new washer gets pushed to the back burner for a couple of more months. I know where my priorities lie -- new skis, trip to Vermont, Christmas shopping, 50th birthday party. Woot!! Who needs a fancy new washer??

If You Break Down on Your Harley, It's Good to be in Farley...

My cousin Tim had a post on Facebook today about a guy who was out riding his Harley with some buddies a while back, and one of the guys' bikes broke down about 5 miles north of Farley. Some Farleyian stopped and put the bike in the back of his pickup and took him into town. Some other Farleyian offered up some tools, and soon, the guys were back on the road.

One of the guys was so impressed with the friendly people of Farley he wrote a little tune. Click here to find the song -- scroll down a bit until you see the title "If You Break Down on Your Harley, It's Good to be in Farley." It's actually the 7th song. A catchy little tune.

So, yeah, it's good to be in Farley, and it's good to be from Farley.

Hold on...just one more comment about my "running" experience

A week ago, I said I had just one more thing to say about the 5K I participated in last Sunday. OK, I lied. I have one final thing to say about that. Today, on NPR, I heard a story about a woman who gave birth just a few hours after completing the Chicago Marathon? WTF? You can read the full story in the Chicago tribune by clicking here.

All I'm saying is that it was bad enough that an 85 year old woman ran a 5K in about half the time it took me to walk it last week. Now, evidently, women who are 39 weeks pregnant are running marathons like it's no big deal. She completed the race in a little over 6 hours. At the pace I walked last week, it would have taken me, oh, about EIGHT HOURS to complete it.

Now, I feel even more like a slug!

Autumn Leaves

It is probably fitting, in some bittersweet way, that famed pianist Roger Williams died yesterday at his Encino, California home. Williams, who played for nine presidents starting with Harry Truman, was likely best known for his 1958 hit "Autumn Leaves." The song was the only instrumental to ever reach No. 1 on the Billboard pop charts. 

This past week reminds me why autumn is my most favorite time of year. We were blessed with glorious weather for the past 8-9 days...the brilliant blue sky, illuminated by a blazing sun, served as the perfect canvas for the trees that erupted into gorgeous gold and orange and red hues all week. The warm days gave way to cool nights, with a sky brightened by a waxing gibbous moon and every star and planet twinkled in the sky like lights on a Christmas tree. If only this weather could continue until March. I think Mother Nature gives us this little weather nirvana as a consolation for the snow and cold that will be upon us shortly.

As you might recall, one of my 2011 blogging goals was to document the seasons in Willow Creek Park. Recall that this was July:

Willow Creek Park - July 2011

And, here is Willow Creek Park earlier this week:

Same spot -- just a little zoomed in

If you were ever planning to film a movie in Iowa with fall scenery, this was the week to do it. As Bailey and I walked the neighborhood, I almost felt like I was on a movie set because it just looked almost too picture perfect. You be the judge.

Corner of Earl Road and Westside Drive

The front of Little Creek Condos

Willow Creek Park near playground

There is a great children's book for this time of year: "Leaf Man" by Lois Ehlert. It goes, in part, like this:

Fall has come, the wind is gusting, and Leaf Man is on the move. Is he drifting east, over the marsh and ducks and geese? Or is he heading west, above the orchards, prairie meadows, and spotted cows? No one's quite sure, but this much is certain: A Leaf Man's got to go where the wind blows.

The Last Word on the 5K

The official results are in: 



Especially For You - 5K "Walk" Results

 Even though I signed up for the run, I got lumped in to the results for the walk. I think I must have handed my number to the wrong guy. In any case, it doesn't matter. What this says is that I was 730th overall from all the female walkers (5,130 women) and 91st (out of 514) in my age category (45-49). As I noted yesterday, the time is skewed by 4+ minutes because that's how long it took us to get to the official starting line.

The fastest walker completed the course in 31:12. Should I feel bad that the top two finishers in the 80+ age group had a faster time than me? Hmmmm, I think those broads cheated. We saw quite a number of people cutting across the course. Alledgedly, some 85 year old woman claims to have run the course in 29:59. I think she cheated, too. I have to keep telling myself that, or I'll get really depressed that a grandma can run faster than me. Sheesh...I'm pathetic.