You know, the nubin covered one. Well, needless to say, I don't have near the quantity nor quality that Ms S. Deason has on that damn instructional video. I'm trying, I'm just not very good yet. So I've replaced my school marm chair with it. Yes folks, I'm sitting on a nubin covered ball and trying to activate my abs and fall in love with my pelvic floor. I'll get back to you on how it's working out.
I just got back from my parents place a little after 9 tonight. I had a few kids to tutor and a whole lot of laundry to do. It's always nice to go 'home'. Honestly, I don't think it will ever matter where I live or what I do, but so long as mom and dad are around, home will always be, well, 'home. Funny how that is, eh? About 15 minutes out of town and came to a screeching hault - there was a single vehicle accident just up ahead and traffic was backed up. The only thing moving were inquisitive heads, working on getting a glimpse on what was up above. I ended up taking a back way, but later came to find out that there was one fatality - a five month old baby. I'd like to say something wise, something profound, something that made a lot of sense or eluded to some sort of explanation. But I can't. Simply because there are no words and no explanation. I would dare half hazard a guess that it's probably the rarest of all rare moments where everyone believes in a place called heaven. Babies who die have no other place to go. On the thousands of trips that I have made back and forth from where I live to where I lived, there's this one graveyard, and no matter what - no matter what I'm thinking about, singing along to, daydreaming while I watch trees go by - I always hold my breath. It's an old wives tale - to hold your breath. And I do. I would argue with you that I wasn't superstitious. I wouldn't blame you for second guessing me. My dad cooked supper tonight and it was so good. He's so cute the way he toodles around the kitchen, making sure everything's just right. We later sat out on the veranda and ate ice-cream. They're big veranda-sitters out that way. Life in general seems to slow down a notch, priorities realign and just go with the flow of the river. And the river has always been a good thing in my life. So I guess the same goes for home. I went to pick up my mom at the school she works at - she's an elementary principal. The secretary is a good friend of mine, and do to the simple fact that it's a small town, I know all the teachers as well. We were remarking that mom and dad were soon to celebrate their 38th anniversary, my sister and her husband, their 14th, my brother and his wife, their 15th. I was really excited that I had signed the lease on my apartment for a second year. Apparently commitment isn't exactly my forte. Sheesh. I can knit a mean scarf though.
Tomorrow is back to work. I'm tired just thinking about it, but I have to remind myself to not think that way because it just makes things harder. It will work itself out. It always does.
I think I may be tired enough to go to bed. I have the house to myself and the night seems pretty quiet. Work will come before I know it.
Night, all. Glad you're out there.
"No one remains quite what he was, once he recognizes himself" Thomas Mann (1875-1955)