Walkabout The Snow Day

Depending on your line of work (teachers) and your age (still in grade school) you will see a ton of snow days in Kentucky. I don’t get many snow days as I am not a teacher nor am I in school. Snow Days in the South are a big joke to people up North who get snow in feet not inches. Down here, it would be insane to send a standard yellow school bus down curvy country roads that haven’t seen salt trucks ever. We got several inches of snow and several inches of ice overnight and I got a snow day! Sometimes it is good to live on back roads. It took most of the day for the road crews in our area to get the main parkways and interstates clear. We’re still waiting for our main highway to be cleared today (day two).

On our snow day we made a big pot of chicken and dumplings and sipped on hot coffee through the morning.

This photo of the chicken stock and the onions, celery and carrots was too beautiful not to share. Isn’t food just BEAUTIFUL! You can tell why my weight loss is so slow going. Hah!

I painted my nails blue while we watched tons of episodes of Bones, Leverage and Rules of Engagement. I also caught up on some reading–glorious, glorious reading.

In the afternoon, I donned three shirts, two pants, a sweater, hat and insulated overalls. I hadn’t ventured out of the house much because I hate being cold, but given the proper preparation I love it! I romped in just about every snow drift on the farm to show how impressively deep the snow had gotten–Several feet.

I attempted to  throw a snowball at Kit but quickly realized it was much to powdery for any real fun. A snowman would have been out of the question.  However, I had a grand time romping in drifts, making a snow angel, spying tracks of and seeing some actual wildlife.
We brought the camera: 

One foot on top of snow and the other sunk to what I assume was the ground.

I remember making dozens of snow angels as a kid until I got the perfect one. Then my brothers usually walked through it.

Sunken into a drift that built up by the neighbor’s fence row. My knee is below the snow line.

Had to pose by my not-so-perfect snow angel.

We wanted to see the half frozen pond and had to stop in short to keep from scaring off the pair of moose enjoying the pond. Okay, moose is a weird inside joke and it is what we call Canadian geese. If I explained it you would just think I am more crazy and less funny.

The obligatory Snow Day Selfie! I hope you guys got to stay home with your loved ones. And if you didn’t get to yesterday, then make a point to spend a day with the people who make you smile soon!

It Takes a Village

In this case it doesn’t take a village of people to raise a child, but a community to help me get fit. My mum was reading my blog and noticed me mention I wanted to get in shape in the new year.

My biggest issues are starting a routine and to be held accountable for working out. It is very, very easy for me to talk myself out of going to the gym or doing some sit ups. It is much easier to put a kettle on for a cup of tea.

So my mom is sponsoring me at the local YMCA.  She added me to her membership plan–Just so long as I use it. Which I fully intend to do!
I don’t so much have a plan yet or a routine. I’m trying to figure out which machines I prefer, the times I can go and when certain classes are being held.

So far, I am really enjoying the general vibe of the gym. There are people like me that are out of shape and just doing their best. There are also folks there that are already in shape and are extremely friendly. That is not something I felt when I went to my university gym. It is nice to think others are happy you are trying rather than trying to show you up or boot you out.

Today makes day three of my membership and day three in a row I will have gone to the gym. So far my plan is working because each time I go I have a buddy to come with me–I am being held accountable for showing up. My mom is an old pro and goes either swimming or lifting about everyday. My arm muscles are sore today from lifting yesterday. Love it and I can’t wait to lift some more on Monday.

Once I settle on a routine I am hoping to incorporate swimming, toning with the weight machines, cardio on the elliptical. I am keen to get into the zumba and yoga classes. Everyone tells me that the spinning classes are done, but I’m still not entirely convinced. I will try.

So can I get some likes to keep it up?
I promise not to share every single detail of my workouts, but if I reach some milestones I’ll share, or if need some encouragement it would be wonderful to find some here from my readers. Besides, over-sharing is for Facebook. I can’t promise I won’t share a gym selfie. hehehe.

X is for Xyloglyphy

Photo source.

First, there are so many jacked up words beginning with X, no wonder kids only know “X is for X-ray”!! Words that have to do with wood, yellow or gross illnesses.

My word Xyloglyphy refers to wood carvings. I like em, I think they’re fun…I also found out I had an incorrect definition for the word I wanted to use so I was scrambling. Forgive me.

What I like about wood carvings is there are so many things you can do with this art form. Pieces can be functional or pretty. Created by hand with a small pocket knife, a lathe or even a chainsaw.
The subjects can be earthly related woodland spirits or animals or your favorite sports team’s mascot.
They can be painted, left bare or stained to bring out the grain of the wood. This is a type of art form where a piece of the artist is inside it.

Do I think doing wood carving is fun? I’ve never tried it. Sure, I’ve shaved down sticks and played vampire slayer in my backyard. Around my area of the woodcarving and whittling something done by our grandfathers who sit in front of hardware stores and burn time watching the town.

Female hobbies pertain more to the kitchen—traditionally anyway. I’m sure there are tons of super skilled women carvers and I don’t feel that I can’t because I’m a woman.

My Christmas tree holds a tiny handcarved shovel made by the grandfather I never met. I don’t know who else in my family tinkers with wood.

Is this a dying art?
Should we revitalize it by teaching our youth?

How do we bring back something like this?

The hand embroidery that I do is an outdated craft, but I hope to pass it on to the youngsters in my family.

W is for Writing

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that I love to write. When I was younger I dreamt of becoming a writer for a newspaper, but there is a lot more to studying journalism than I took interest in. Perhaps when I am older, I will write on my perspectives of the world and people will eagerly flip through newspapers with inked black thumbs just to read my quips over coffee.

I know that it can only be a fantasy because by the time I’m old enough to have opinions worth hearing there won’t be printed newspapers—unless we’re all very lucky.

All the money and glory aside I really enjoy it. I can blame my sister who struggled to get me to keep a diary at a young age.

I can’t thank my sisters enough for being cool and keeping journals. It gave me the inspiration to write, content with misspellings, and come to terms with my feelings through paper and pencil.

Let me be clear that the fact I (still) cannot spell “diarrhea” angers me to no end. I’ve gotten a bit better. My first journal entry involves me discussing my cold symptoms, such as a “soar thoark.” Maybe it wasn’t that bad, but it was close.

I haven’t counted the number of journals I have filled recently, but I’m fairly certain that I’m close to the 30 journals filled mark.
The picture is most of my journals, but lacks at least four of them.

For me, writing is fun!