My Profile
Older
E-mail
D*Land
Diary Rings

Can we just jump to January please? - 2014-11-14
A (don't kick the) Bucket List - 2014-10-28
Put THIS in your pipe and DON'T smoke it! - 2014-10-23
Max, Wolf, and the goats - 2014-10-15
Maloney for Congress - 2014-10-08

Join my Notify List and get email when I update my site:
email:
Powered by NotifyList.com

10:45 a.m. - 2009-12-29
WHOOOSH!!!!

The wind is roaring and has been all night. I've never experienced wind like this, not even in Texas- Home of the World's Suckiest Weather. The scary wind gusts up every so often and changes direction at random intervals too, but mostly it's a frigid blast that hasn't shown any sign of blowing itself out. My poor trees! Thank goodness there's no heavy coating of snowy ice on them to add dangerous weight or there'd be nothing but broken trunks and huge hunks of tree cadavers downed everywhere. I'm grateful for the Hobbit House's tin roof, no shingles to loosen and be torn away, but if my roof goes it's gone. I'm not usually such a nervous nelly about bad weather, but this wind is wicked and relentless. And when your roof is 100 years old and the surrounding trees are almost that elderly…well, it's worrisome.

Anyway, onward to non-weather news.

My totally cool MIL has gotten me an early birthday gift, a membership at her gym. Sort of a win-win gift actually. Without Gram to anchor her day my MIL has slowly gone bonkers. Over this past year MIL has lost her job and her mother. The job she doesn't miss so much, especially when the weather is bad and she doesn't have to get out and haul her buns across town in the early morning hours before all the roads have been plowed. But Gram? MIL visited with Gram every day. During her lunch hour from work and for brunch on Saturday and Sunday. Every single day for the past 9 years. And before that when Gram was living down in NJ, MIL tootled off to see her every weekend. Didn't miss a single weekend for 27 YEARS. Devoted? You know it. Now Gram is gone and MIL's days are rudderless and loooooong. She's been trying to stay busy, visiting the old folks home where SIL works and hauling FIL to his many doctor's appointments and such, reorganizing her house and futzing around outside, but for someone as energetic and active as MIL it's the barest of sops to her angsty boredom.

So. She belongs to the gym but hates working out alone. Mick used to join her, but he dislikes Planet Fitness, it's too sissified for Mr Olympia. Too many machines, too many 'civilians', not enough testosterone and hernias. Enter LA- the tubby daughter-in-law freelance writer who can certainly spare a few hours a week while the kid's at school and who could absolutely use some exercise. What I won't do for myself I will do for my darling stir crazy MIL. Namely I will go to the gym, keep MIL company, get in some badly needed exercise, and provide MIL with some welcome relief from both the boredom and the FIL. (FIL is NOT allowed at the gym, they totally forbid loiterers, and he with no ambition or activities of his own just trails around after MIL all day like a needy duckling, driving her insane with inanities and complaints.) See? A total win-win.

I'd do just about anything for my lovely generous eager-to-please MIL. A gym membership in exchange for some of my time and conversation is easy enough. That I loathe going to the gym, have no appropriate work-out clothing or shoes, have to drive a half hour through snarly traffic each way, and will be joining the hordes of idiot New Year's resolution gym rat wannabes like a total doofus and 'me too!' loser…feh, not so wonderful. But only a completely heartless selfish slobovian could possibly say no and disappoint a terrific woman like my MIL. Like I said, I get something out of it too. My ass has started to look dangerously orange peel-esque, there's a lot more of me than there was a couple years ago and all of it is wiggly, and goodness knows where the time went, but I'll be 47 in a few weeks. I lose some and firm up the rest now or forever be doomed to be size XL Jello. Okay, huge Jello with great hair and fabulous accessories, but still. Also it wouldn't hurt if I look good in my wedding dress. Mick adores me and wouldn't care if I looked like an ecru lace covered zeppelin coming down the aisle, but he certainly wouldn't object to a less voluminous bride either.

Sometime this week I will scrounge up some kind of exercise appropriate clothing, find my least painful bra, and convince myself that either my Chucks or the sparkly silver glitter covered slip-on sneakers are just fine for the gym, and prepare to join the throngs of resolute fatsos at Planet Fitness. Oh, and wrap my mind around the fact that my 71 year old MIL is totally going to school my flabby butt. The woman already benches her body weight and runs on the treadmill chatting amiably and not sweating even the teeniest bit.


Huffin' and puffin' with my Oldie, ~LA

8 Wanna talk about it!

previous // next