Running Again

I'm finally almost back into the habit.  I pretty much took the winter off.  Running at -30 degrees didn't seem fun and since I refuse to pay for a gym and don't own a treadmill running was put on hold.  This week hasn't been easy since I've been trying to come down with some sort of creeping crud Bear brought home.  The actual running wasn't so bad but afterwards and just before were not great.


Someday I will get faster.  I am. very. slow.  At least I'm moving.  I'm determined to actually loose some weight this year too.  You would think that after 3 years I could get rid of some of the baby weight.  It is due time now.  The garden will help with that.  Both the act of gardening and the eating more vegetables.


I started my tomatoes today.  I'm already seeing piles of weeds too.  I'm going to need to dig beds again to kill all those little weed starts.  The chickens will hopefully help with some of it but three little ol' chickens aren't going to get it all.  I'll be hopefully getting my voice back enough tomorrow to call a gal that has sheep for sale.  I have no idea if I have enough money for them or decent fences.  I suspect not on both accounts. 


I'm off to finish off my horrible garlic, ginger, lemon, and apple cider vinegar concoction for my throat.  Tastes bad but seems to help.  And then I have children who think I'm starving them.

3 years

Three years ago yesterday my dad died.  Hard to believe.  I still can see something or think of something and almost pick up the phone to call him.  I miss our phone talks.  Well, I really miss everything.  In many ways I'm glad he went when he did but it doesn't make me miss him any less.  I really wish my kids could have gotten to know him better.  Bear did a little but Mia only met him once at about a month old.  She was only 3 months old when he died.


You know one thing I didn't realize until after he died?  I didn't realize I was such a "daddy's girl."  I wouldn't have called myself that but in many ways I am.  And as much as he and I could argue I think it was because we were more alike than either of us cared to admit.


One of the things I would love to ask Dad now is if he remembered exactly the day, the phone call, the feeling when he got the news about his dad dying.  Of course that isn't something I wanted to know when he was alive because it wasn't something I wondered about.  I'm assuming I will always remember those moments.  I remember those phone calls from the plane crashes and I remember the phone call about my dad.


Enough thinking about this.  I miss my dad, that is about all there is to it.  Most days are pretty dang wonderful but there are times it is harder without him.  Such as life after a death of a loved one.