run on sentences

On the day after Christmas, it snowed most of the morning. The kids went skiing. Jack and I decided to go for a run to enjoy the snow and also to go over my guilt for gifts unpurchased, cards unsent, and cookies unmade for the neighbors along with a slight sadness that always happens on the day after Christmas because it is over. That is why running is good - most of these things can be worked out and all the Christmas weight (figuratively and literally) can be lifted in 5 miles. (Caption for the first two pictures, since I don't know how to put it under the picture - The first one is the "S" curve which is a pretty part of my usual 5 or so mile run. The second picture below is Jack the dog, my faithful confidant and running buddy. He loves the snow and is always willing to go out. He is 9 years old but you wouldn't know it). I am sure that damn Jennifer would have had all the rescued yarn scarves and even a sweater knitted for each of her perfect children as well as

So who knew that there would be an ice storm and our girl trip to Dallas would be delayed for a day in a Motel 6 somewhere in Little Rock, Arkansas with only a Waffle House and some sort of convenience store to keep us company? I guess I have heard of ice storms in the south but didn't expect to actually experience one. It was kinda fun to be holed up. I was glad to have Carol Ann with us to translate the Southern dialect - everyone is incredibly friendly and says "thank kyew!" As it turns out, breakfast at the waffle house was a great meal of grits, waffles, eggs, bacon and surprisingly good coffee. Dinner was not so good. We ran out of hummus and Cheetos so settled for chicken wraps and chicken salad...not so good from the waffle house - a mystery meat that was supposed to be chicken. We got some Coronas from the convenience store though. What party animals we are - a six pack of Corona to share between the three of us. In between breakfast and dinner, we took Lewie the

So I am in a motel 6 outside of Knoxville, TN with Kseniya, Carol Ann and Lewie the dog. We left Carlisle PA today around 11, planning to leave at 9, but realizing we did not have to be a slave to time, left at 11 am. Kseniya and I ran Lewie around for about 30 minutes, hoping to tire him out, but alas, he panted for the first 2 hours thinking he was going to be taken to the boarding place. Actually we are headed to Texas where Carol Ann's parents live and she will visit for Christmas and Kseniya and I will fly back to snowy Utah. A road trip with girls is a great thing. Our game was to count TJ Maxx stores of which we only saw 2 and did not stop. But we stopped to pee whenever we wanted and at a Starbucks. We ate cheetos, chips, Lattes, green tea (for our antioxdants) and cheetos and hummus which was amazingly good. We talked about Christmas traditions of our youth - it was hard to think of it being Christmas without snow and it was amazing to pass through Maryland, Virg

Tonight I baked roles for a meeting tomorrow. Since I never cook or at least hardly ever, it makes me feel very domestic. I think about what it would be like to be a woman named Jennifer. Jennifer is tall (but not too), blond (real) slender, with firm bosoms and a nipped waist. She wears white gauzy dresses that never get dirty and it is a contrast to her beautiful golden skin (no fake bake). Her golden hair spills down her back in perfect natural curls with little wisps around her face when she is glistening. She never sweats and she never has to shorten her pants, partly because she is tall enough to find the perfect size but also because she always has some kind of dress on that she has made that looks perfect. She also sews clothes for her children and makes sweaters out of the wool she gets from her lambs in the back yard. She makes her own soap, and weaves rugs out of all her old plastic bags. You can find me as Jennifer in a garden or flower bed, weeding. I don't work outsid

Happy birthday Bob wherever you are.

This is the house I grew up in, leaning even more to the right than it used to. The yard is grown over and the house is dying on the inside as well as the outside - kind of like all of us. It remains a part of me and I can't help but return to it often in my memories and in my dreams. Every time I visit my mom, I walk across the street from where she currently lives and let myself in to the dark, musty and quiet house, filled with memories of my childhood, mostly good but some tainted by my father's alcoholism and my mother's silent suffering because of it. There's still a dent in the kitchen wall by the back door where my mom threw a coffee pot at him one night. The upper cabinets over the sink are still without doors and I remember my mom washing dishes there and my dad accidentally shooting her in the ear with a BB gun. I go over to the old place and I sift through the junk left behind hoping to find things I want to keep. I have already taken all the dolls from my c