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assortment of stuff

April 17, 2013

For the first 3.5 months of 2013 (105 days), I’ve stood & walked for 426.5 hours. That averages out to almost 122 hours/month (and 4.06 hours/day), that previously would’ve been spent sitting, reclining, or lying in bed.

I began (in 2012) with a minimum daily goal of 150 minutes/day. By mid-December, the goal was 225 minutes/day. At the end of January, I increased the minimum daily goal to 240 minutes/day.

Ideally, I would get up to stand and/or walk around for 15-20 minutes every hour, but that’s not usually how it works. Mostly, I don’t remember. Sometimes I’m in the middle of something, or I’m feeling lazy when it’s time.

My spreadsheet shows that I log the lowest total minutes on Fridays (average = 213), while the highest total minutes occur on Thursdays (average = 270). Not sure why.

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I spent 4 hours weeding a garden on Monday. My butt and thighs are still sore, but in a good way. My hands and wrists are not as sore as I expected they would be. (Which is good too.)

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I have a substantial topic that I’ve been trying to write a blog post about for, oh, more than a year. I tried again today. Every time I try, I get sidetracked into tangential issues for so long that my emotional energy is depleted by the time I get back on track.

Which, now that I think about it, probably means at least one of my parts doesn’t want me to write about the topic for some reason.

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It feels like my cousin visited Baltimore 2 months ago, not 2 weeks ago.

At grocery shopping Monday night, I finally bought a bouquet of orange tulips, something I’ve been thinking about doing for weeks and weeks. They are beautiful. More of a vermillion than orange. I hope some of my photos of them turn out well.

I have 194 photos from last week on my computer, waiting for me to figure out which ones will make it to Flickr. Not sure how many new ones on my camera this week, but a bunch.

Local crab apple trees are budding. I anticipate their blossoms the most joyfully of any. Loving bright green baby leaves everywhere.

Toad mating season was in full swing last Thursday. When Spouse and I visited gardens on Sunday, no toads, and 1 lonely frog. We thought it was because the weather was chillier. Apparently, though, it was because toad mating season has ended. We’re still hearing spring peepers though.

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Today is the 107th day this year, and I’ve read 109 books so far. (I had expected that my days would outnumber books read long before now, but that day is certainly closing in.)

I’ve spent the last week poring over a fascinating book, Exploding the Phone: The Untold Story of the Teenagers and Outlaws Who Hacked Ma Bell, by Phil Lapsley. My mother’s mother was a telephone operator for 50 years, her whole career, retiring in 1978. There were so many things about her job that fascinated me, but this book is showing me all sorts of things I never thought of. Spouse wants to read the book when I finish it.

 

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I’ve gotten interested in unschooling lately.

I continue to feel tension between wanting to learn all sorts of things on my own — as I mostly have learned all my life — and attaining credentials that will “prove” to others that I’ve achieved a certain level of knowledge or competence. So there’s the stuff related to me personally. And then there’s the stuff related to teaching kids about plants. How can I engage kids in the sorts of ways I wasn’t engaged by educators when I was a kid myself? How do I avoid becoming part of the problems with formal education? How can I learn from the kids?

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I’d been planning to bail on my poetry meetup group, but part of me is ambivalent, and wants to stay in for some reason. Which is perplexing, but I’m going to honor it anyway.

It was bad enough needing 5 weeks to crank out last month’s poem, because the prompt was so n0t-something-I-ever-would-have-picked: a line of dialogue said by someone’s mother. My relationship with my own mother is so fraught that the whole idea of a mother, anyone’s mother, is painful and kind of horrible for me. I won’t say I would never write a poem about my own mother, because I might, but I would go down that path for My Own Very Good Reasons. I would seriously not ever write choose to write something about some random person’s mother.

I managed to kludge something (about a nightmare, as it happens), but it’s not a poem I’ll probably ever show anybody. And then, the day of the meetup, I got sick (which was probably psychosomatic), so I didn’t go, which meant that no one in the group got to see or hear it.

This month’s prompt is also n0t-something-I-ever-would-have-picked: Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks painting.

The very first prompt, though, was wonderful, and I got 5 poems out of it, including one that may be the best poem I’ve ever written.

So, mixed feelings about this group.

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Our grocery store was out of organic blueberries this week, but I decided to try a bag of Meyer lemons instead. Ate half of one today, with honey. Interesting experience. Might be better in tea, though, or a recipe.

I really like sour flavors, though. My idea of taste heaven is something that combines sour with creamy. Chipotle’s mild salsa with guacamole. Sour cream. Greek yogurt. Key lime pie.

Speaking of Chipotle. Now that I’ve gone gluten-free again, our Wednesday night dinner date changed from Noodles & Co. to Spouse getting a sandwich at Subway, then meeting me at Chipotle, where I get vegetarian tacos in corn tortillas. Except tonight, they were out of corn tortillas. I look forward to that mild-salsa-and-guacamole combination all week!

Had a nice conversation with Spouse at the grocery store (where I ended up eating). Then we drove over to his office park, which is on the way home, to photograph the trees and shrubs now blooming.

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Looking forward to an interesting somewhat-technical conversation with a new acquaintance tomorrow.

Had hoped to finish the book on the phone hackers tonight, but maybe I should go to bed instead. It’s 11:15 p.m., which is early for me, but Spouse has been abed for a while now.

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