Past Times

I don't want to let months go by without blogging....like when I was trapped in Lifetime Fitness.  So here goes.....
 
Things are good in Carolville.  Just returned from a vacation in the Adirondacks where we picked up daughter Mara from music camp.  She survived and so did we.  But now both girls are at home and husband Mike is feeling quite outnumbered.  Too much femaleness going on around this house for him.
As for me....no such thing as too much femaleness.  Bring on Loehmanns and Macy's, and the spa, and the manicures.  I really could do without all of us cycling at once and the mutual pms, but hey.....that's part of life.  A part which Mike doesn't seem to understand.  Go figure.

I've been watching the Olympics with daughter Mara.  Beach volleyball is fun.  Gymnastics is awesome.  When I was a cheerleader in high school I did some tumbling, but nothing like this!  Wow!   Husband Mike says that the gymnastics would be better if the girls wore little skirts and cheerleading sweaters.  In your dreams, mister.  He thinks the picture of me with my cheerleading squad is the cutest thing.  I think guys have a hangup for that sort of thing. 

Like I said in the caption....no news.  Just trying to stay in the writing habit.

It's a rainy day and it's Monday.  I should be down, but not today.  I'll be giving another sermon this Sunday and today is a research day.  My topic will be "home." 

It seems to me that everybody has a different conception of home.  For some its their dwelling, others feel more home at work.  Some people feel at home at the golf course or at a neighborhood bar.  Others feel at home at a certain store or spa.  Church is a home to many and the ancestral home may be as repellent to some as it is attractive to others.

The common thread is that each of us feels a yearning for a place we can call home.  This is a place where we feel safe and connected.  Where we can be ourselves without fear of judgment or expectations that push us to be someone else.  Thus the ancestral home that is anything but a haven.

Heaven may be a yearned for home for many, but I wonder how many would feel comfortable living in what is the popular conception of that place?  Harps and clouds and bliss all day all the time.  For who would that be home?  I suspect even Mother Theresa would soon chafe at the lack of variety.  No, I think more people would agree with Max Tucker's's conception of a spiritual home.  Mr. Tucker is a self confessed hedonist and is the author of, "I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell."

I'd love to know what place others see as "home."  Is it where you grew up, a favorite concert hall, a college, your house, or workplace?  Please let me know.

It's the weekend, about time.  My husband and I are fighting over the television.  I want to watch the Tour de France, he wants to watch the British Open.  He's watching other men chase a white ball right now, freeing me up to blog.  Pretty soon I'll push him off the couch so that I can watch Chrstian Vande Velde climb an Alp.

I'm even more excited about Le Tour since learned that Vande Velde is from the Chicago suburb of Lemont.   I'm sure I've driven over the same roads he has used to train.  Hurray--a local boy to root for.  Go Christian!

I've been biking more lately.  My typical ride is 20 miles, two or three times per week.  I finally broke down and bought myself a pair of those tight and padded bike pants.  The kind that make you feel like you're wearing about four sanitary napkins.  I may feel like the Michilin Woman down there, but my  ride is so much more comfortable.  I even  bought one of those colorful jerseys with the pockets in the back.  I only wish I were an adept enough biker to use those pockets.  That reach behind while pedaling still throws me off. 

It's raining like crazy today, so probably no biking.  Even after the rain stops the water thrown up by my tires from puddles would give me a wet stripe up my back.  Definitely not a good look.  It looks like more indoor exercise today, probably the stair climb with arms full of laundry.  And yes I have avoided Lifetime Fitness.  The last time I went there I almost didn't come out.

I have always been of the opinion that one can never have too much male attention.  I enjoy dressing up.  I enjoy men flirting with me, I enjoy their furtive glances when they think their wives aren't looking, and I enjoy hearing their best attempts at pick up lines.  I'm fascinated by their no-nonsense non frivolous world view.   I like that men don't feel like they have to laugh or titter to punctuate every other sentence.   I like that they don't smile all the time.  I know I'll never understand men, but that is what has always made their attentions fun.

I recently took a few months off from Spaces.  As Jaysey said,  I got trapped in Lifetime Fitness.  Really, I just took some time off.  I guess I was uninspired and unmotivated.  My tank was empty, my batteries were depleted, my fizz was flat.  But during those months away I had offer after offer from men to become their friend.  Always men...not a single woman.  And I had messages from men.  They liked my looks, they couldn't believe I was 47, they wanted to ride me like a stolen bike....fast and hard.  Wow!  Talk about making a girl feel special.

Every week my e-mail would light up with another pale blue silouhette from China, or Argentina, or Germany, or Texas.   One from China was written entirely in Chinese characters.   Sometimes I would click on the mysterious blue box and find....nothing.   No space to speak of, just more blue.  What was this man thinking?  Other times I would find a space with scores of pictures of female "friends" but little else.  I knew what this man was thinking.  He wanted another girl's poster for his pin-up gallery.  Sorry, not this girl.

Occasionally I would be pleasantly surprised.  After clicking on a man's photo I would find a blog site with postings and photos and music.  These I would accept.

I am grateful for all this attention.  Annoyed sometimes, mystified perhaps, but sincerely grateful.   For it was all those invites, all those blue faceless faces that kept Spaces in my mind and finally brought me back.  Thank you to all my mystery admirers.  I really don't deserve your flattery, but I really do enjoy it.