Silly Sunday: Dog Does Float Trip

"The Swaz" 1998-2011

Year's ago, we took the Swaz on a float trip down a Tennessee river. Our large golden retriever "enjoyed" a day which probably haunted him into old age. First, we paddled through floating grass, but the dog thought it was the real thing as he stepped out of the canoe and dove head first under water. We struggled to pull the front end of this massive beast out of the river because his back legs were lodged in the boat, and he'd drown without our help. That was our warm up.

Later, we tipped in rapids that left us in panic once we brought our heads to the surface. Swaz was nowhere to be seen. Finally, my husband lifted the canoe to find our baby paddling underneath it. Upon seeing Mitchell, Swaz panicked as he climbed on top of Mitchell's shoulders continually trying to get higher out of the water. We should have charged admission to laughing observers on shore. If you decide to take your dog floating, beware.

The Writer's Post: Walking Away

Walking away is normally not tough; but tonight, I just don't think I can manage it. See, several weeks ago, I think I did something to my leg in Mr. Mario's elementary school running group. The PE teacher had us hopping over cones. This is easy peasy for nine and ten year olds but not for old ladies like me. After that workout, the area behind my knee started to ache.

Mr. Mario said, "It sounds like your hamstring."
I told him, "Can't be. I'm Jewish, and Jews don't eat ham."
He didn't buy it.

I've lived with mild pain for almost a month, but it hasn't been too bad; so I've continued running. Sometimes it hurts when I start, other times when I'm in motion, but always after a good run. On Saturday, I ran five miles and felt it after mile four.

Today Mr. Mario had us sprinting the length and width of a soccer field then resting for a minute and a half before going at it again. Turns out some of those little turkeys have been making fun of my great running talent. They must be jealous because I am consistently last, and they haven't learned how to be consistent runners.

It's okay. I have tough skin, but my porkstring, not so much. I guess instead of walking away, I'll have to limp… and you expected a deeply emotional post about "Walking Away?" Pffft.

 Lashana Tova to all my Jewish friends. I'll be out of commission (and the refrigerator) for a good part of the week-end, so I'll catch you later.

From Goalie to Graduate

The Cutest Goalie Ever

In soccer (of futball for you European types) we call them keepers. These are the brave souls that stand in front of a net and ask for a pounding. If that ball happens to miss them, they eagerly jump in front of the bullet to take the full impact. Ouch! This wouldn't be so bad in the powder puff league, but has anyone seen the men play? You couldn't pay me to stand in that goal.

All of my kids played soccer at one time or another, but only my youngest ever played goalie. She was a little tyke who was supposed to stop powder puff balls. Unfortunately, the last time she played keeper, the ball rolled past her because she was on all fours picking flowers. So she doesn't know how to be a goalie, but she does know how to be a graduate. I'm so proud of my baby who just graduated high school with an honors diploma!

My baby's a high school graduate!