Musings
A Tale of Three Buses
Once upon a time there were three buses. Bus number one was a lovely white bus that drove Tammy and Rosalin to Liverpool. It did its thing in the nicest of ways, driving straight down the road, stopping once for a break and then driving straight again. Quiet, reserved, well-maintained, nothing short of a perfect bus and a perfect bus ride.
Bus number two delivered Beatles Fan #1 (Rosalin) and part-time Beatles fan (Tammy) to many historic Beatles sites around Liverpool. Pennylane, Strawberry Fields, Birthplaces, Childhood homes, Tammy and Rosalin saw it all. But, unlike bus number one, bus number two was not a nice bus. Vomit had been recently deposited into a seat a couple ahead of our traveling duo and the stench of warm, slightly sweet retch was never far. It was an old bus, not much kept up, with torn seats and no air flow, but only Tammy seemed to mind. Even the poor women whose job it was to sit on the recently cleaned, but still wet, vomit seat did so with a smile on her face.
Bus number three was a pretty white bus. It was however a double-decker bus, which in Tammy’s troubled mind meant an all-the-better-to-tip-over-bus. The driver was a shrunken old man who had a bad-tempered shrunken old woman as his working companion. She never drove, nor did it seem her job to keep him awake as he drove, so other than being bad-tempered it’s unclear what it was her job to do. The 7 hour overnight bus trip back from Liverpool on bus number three was horrible. The bus was quite full when our fearless team boarded and they ended up sitting facing backward. Unlike the trip to Liverpool the trip back included stop after stop and seemed to pass through roundabout after roundabout. There was much jerking, turning, speeding up quickly and slamming of the brakes. Combined with the ever-entertaining but never peaceful contingent of traveling family sitting facing our team who enjoyed snacking and pop drinking and giving much helpful advice to fellow travelers and the lack of comfortable seating, sleep was difficult. Tammy and Rosalin found the whole thing giddily funny, but they were so glad when the bus returned safely to London.
All three buses lived happily ever after. The end.
The Fat Lady Sings....again!
When last I wrote it was Saturday. Today it’s Sunday. Yesterday I was wrecked with the perilous decision, to race or not to race. Should I risk life and limb for the sake of my investment and pride or should I stay home and wallow in the safety of my large butt. I was teetering on the edge; the weight of the decision pressed heavily on my heart. I felt a strong need to compete and yet I also felt the persistent voice of reason that cried to compete in my current state would humiliate and possibly lead to some sort of paramedic rescue. I know I left everyone on the edge of their seat, and so without further ado I give you the conclusion to The Fat Lady Sings…
Me and my fat butt got ourselves to the start line! That’s right, I raced the race and I’m alive to tell the tale. It turns out that the course was so short I had nothing to fear. I nearly missed the race altogether as I got a late start, took a wrong turn and didn’t show up until 15 minutes after the gun shot had sent the first wave of swimmers into the water. Fortunately, there were 17 waves and I was in the 16th, so I made it to the start line just in the nick of time. I got to the beach and it was go time.
My performance wasn’t great, but I swam the swim, biked the bike and ran the run and tonight I am happy. I guess the moral of the story is get your fat butt out there and just do it! Just in case there are any doubters, here are my official results.
The Fat Lady Sings
Okay, it’s time to publicly admit it, I’ve been getting fat for awhile now. For those who’ve known me a long time, the ever-changing size and shape of Tammy is just part of life. Sometimes I’m fit and fabulous, other times fat and flabby and most of the time somewhere in the middle. I am a yo-yo constantly moving in one direction or the other. It seems the six week road trip didn’t do anything for my already expanding mid-section. I’ve been doing far too much sitting and eating and not nearly enough sweating. It’s a constant battle for me and as of late, I’m on the losing team. But fear not fair reader eventually I will fight my way back to a nicer weight and size.
This week I’ve returned to exercise and what a return it’s been. After a 10 week absence, much has been lost, but still a little remains. My body is sore, but happy to be in use again. I signed up to do a triathlon Sunday (as in tomorrow) many, many months ago and I’m just stupid enough to still be considering showing up at the start line. I’m stubborn, stubborn, stubborn and the fact that I’ve already paid money to race makes me all the more determined.
To be continued…
Dog Days of Summer
The dogs were away and then the dogs were back. Now the dogs are here and I am once again cohabiting with Mr. Exuberance and Ms. Strange. I didn’t miss the dogs much at all on our trip and I was close to frightened of their impending arrival. My heart picked up the pace when I saw the Pets Are Inn van approach. I was in near panic mode when the back hatch opened, but once I saw that mangy little Izzy and the over-excited Chase, I was happy they were home. I guess they truly have become part of the family. Welcome home guys!
A brief return to consumerism
I’ve tried to mend my ways over the last couple of years and halt my seemingly endless desire for stuff. I think the brakes have been rather successful and while I’m still no ultra-thrifty, re-user, re-purposer, I’ve made big progress. I was the kind of person who would walk into Target flat broke and in need of toothpaste and an hour later my cart would be brimming with anything and everything. In my present life I’ve either eliminated or replaced most of my Target purchases and when I do happen in, I stick to my list and that’s it. All of this is to say that I love to consume, but I’ve been trying not to and doing a pretty good job.
Enter my mom…
She had this idea that it would be fun to take each of her four daughters out for a day of shopping. We could buy whatever we wanted and she would pick up the tab. There was a budget, but it was kept in disguise and we were only to be aware of the limit if we exceeded it. At the end of each daughter’s shopping day, the daughter returned to my parent’s house and put on a little show-and-tell for my dad. He then became the great equalizer and surprised each of us with a check totaling the unspent money in our unknown budget. I had my day in the spotlight a few days ago (I was the last to go) and it was a ton of fun. I started out hesitant and unsure and ended the day drunk on the power of purchasing. Thanks mom and dad for giving us “kids” the opportunity for such an adventure. While I love everything I bought and don’t regret a single purchase, I don’t think I’ll be returning to my old ways anytime soon. This was a one time occurrence…but it sure was fun!
Off the road
The road trip is officially over. We are back home, unpacked and readjusting to a life of the comfort and responsibility of home. Tomorrow marks the one week mark. I gotta say, it feels like we’ve been home forever. The trip is already a distant memory in the back of my mind. I’m overcome with how quick the routine takes over and the novel fades away.
Ride 'Em Cowboy!
We are spending a week at the C Lazy U Ranch to wrap up our road trip. Our friends Kent and Maril and their kids joined us for the week. Getting back up on a horse has been fun, fun, super-fun. The first couple of days were a little nerve-wracking, but then everything settled in and life became good. I’ve ridden every morning and I gotta say, it’s a nice way to start out the day. Ouray has been my trusty stead and he’s a handsome and lovable guy. He’s been a great companion. I’m going to miss him.
Gross Sighting
Yesterday at the pool I spotted a booger floating in the water: Gross! I felt some sort of sick need to photograph and share it with the rest of you.
You had to be there
Guy, sitting by himself at a upscale, but casual restaurant. He’s reading a book, regular size paperback. He makes a call on his cell phone and to avoid bothering the other guests, he talks into his semi-closed book the whole time. There are only a few other people dining, so you can clearly hear and then see his muffled conversation. It was funny stuff, but I’m sure you had to be there to appreciate.
Big Sur packs a wallop
Today has restored my faith in “the vacation”. I must admit over the last few days I’ve grown weary and last night as I was trying to fall asleep I really wanted to pack it up and go home. But today was a glorious day and I’m feeling the travel buzz all over again.
We took it easy this morning, no showers, breakfast in our little house, and then hit the road around 9am. The van cruised us down Hwy. 1 to the Big Sur area and there was nothing but Spectacular each and every way we turned. There are scenic spots to stop almost continuously and lots of quaint motels, shops, art galleries and restaurants tucked into the hillside. The drive continues on to the Hearst Castle and beyond, but in the interest of Mazie and her sanity, we kept our distance from home base around 50 miles.
We lunched at this fabulous spot called Nepenthe where patrons are seated at two long wood counters that overlook a sheer drop-off with hills on one side and the ocean on the other. I’ve never felt so calm and happy waiting for and then partaking in my meal. Even Mazie was a picture of near perfection, only showing faint signs of “two-ness” while sharing dessert with Jamie.
After 3 hikes, an awesome lunch, lots of picture taking and even a little shopping, we plopped ourselves down for a refreshing ice cream cone in the prettiest state park lodge I’ve ever been to, then turned the van around and headed back to our temporary home.
Paradise lost, paradise found, and the pictures to prove it.