Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Dirt.
I'm not going to lie to you; my workouts have been dirt. Not the good dirt. Not the dirt that I love. Not that dirt that flew off the car every time I closed my door in Wyoming. No, my workouts have been the kind of dirt you find underneath a porta potty. Gross, right? Yeah. Now you know how I've been feeling since I got back to California.
Running is hard. SO hard. I cannot get my legs to lift. My lung capacity from all that training in altitude has been great, but my legs feel HEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVY heavy heavy. Like the legs of an elephant. But I don't have the strength of an elephant. I have the strength of a puny 13-year-old girl. My motivation to train has flown out the window as well. And man, it flew fast! It was like a hungry sparrow that saw a worm for the first time in three days and dove as fast as its wings would let it go. Yeah, that sparrow and my motivation fly at the same rate.
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I think I'm a little embarrassed to run. There are actually people in California. They see me. And they judge. They judge hard. I know because I used to be one of the judging people. Oh man... look at the way that guy overpronates. Oooo... that girl is never going to win a race if she won't pick her feet up. Sure, I always tell people that no one cares what you are doing because they are too focused on their own workout. Yeah... that's semi-true. But, people notice. They don't care really. And they won't remember you the next day. But I am so tired of people noticing my imperfections and I would rather they not! So... if I don't run, they won't notice, right? But if I don't run, I'll get fat and I can't be fat and work at a running store and fitness gyms. It is such a catch-22.
Run, I must. Run, I will. I just... well, my hips are wider than they were in my fat days. My pace is slower than it was in my slow days. And my ability to run for long periods of time is completely shot. I wish I was exaggerating. I keep waiting for the morning I wake up and everything is back to the way it should be. So far, it hasn't happened.
Now that we've established the non-existance of my training, let's talk about the glimmer of hope I've seen in my classes. I am kicking butt! People are so excited that I'm back! After my noon cycle class, they were cheering and saying, "Yup... she's back." They were begging me not to bring the dogs. Everyone has said they have missed my workouts. Makes me feel AWESOME! I'm so glad to be back to teaching. That truly is my passion. I feel so blessed to know the people I do and to work with the individuals who are enthusiastic about breaking a little... okay, a huge sweat.
Now... how do I get their motivation and apply it to my runs? Hmm...
Running is hard. SO hard. I cannot get my legs to lift. My lung capacity from all that training in altitude has been great, but my legs feel HEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVY heavy heavy. Like the legs of an elephant. But I don't have the strength of an elephant. I have the strength of a puny 13-year-old girl. My motivation to train has flown out the window as well. And man, it flew fast! It was like a hungry sparrow that saw a worm for the first time in three days and dove as fast as its wings would let it go. Yeah, that sparrow and my motivation fly at the same rate.
.JPG)
I think I'm a little embarrassed to run. There are actually people in California. They see me. And they judge. They judge hard. I know because I used to be one of the judging people. Oh man... look at the way that guy overpronates. Oooo... that girl is never going to win a race if she won't pick her feet up. Sure, I always tell people that no one cares what you are doing because they are too focused on their own workout. Yeah... that's semi-true. But, people notice. They don't care really. And they won't remember you the next day. But I am so tired of people noticing my imperfections and I would rather they not! So... if I don't run, they won't notice, right? But if I don't run, I'll get fat and I can't be fat and work at a running store and fitness gyms. It is such a catch-22.
Run, I must. Run, I will. I just... well, my hips are wider than they were in my fat days. My pace is slower than it was in my slow days. And my ability to run for long periods of time is completely shot. I wish I was exaggerating. I keep waiting for the morning I wake up and everything is back to the way it should be. So far, it hasn't happened.
Now that we've established the non-existance of my training, let's talk about the glimmer of hope I've seen in my classes. I am kicking butt! People are so excited that I'm back! After my noon cycle class, they were cheering and saying, "Yup... she's back." They were begging me not to bring the dogs. Everyone has said they have missed my workouts. Makes me feel AWESOME! I'm so glad to be back to teaching. That truly is my passion. I feel so blessed to know the people I do and to work with the individuals who are enthusiastic about breaking a little... okay, a huge sweat.
Now... how do I get their motivation and apply it to my runs? Hmm...
Monday, September 3, 2012
The Girl Who Didn't Use Towels
It has come to my attention that people know me better than I think they do. I am the type of person who does not notice details. "Oh you got your ears pierced!" "Uhm... in second grade, Ash." ...oops. But I've been trying to change that as of late.
This summer, my friends would make comments that helped me realize how much of an open book I am. My first day in Sisters, I decided to run the three miles from Greg's office to my house. My mom passed by on her way home from coffee. She was laughing as she pulled the car over and said, "You run like an old woman!" Inside, I thought, Whatever, Mom! I'm not used to running on flat road! I've been climbing hills all summer. Instead I said, "Better to run like an old woman than have the knees of an old man." Wha-bam! There it was. Facebook status Online for the world to see. Josh, the person who probably knows me better than anyone else, commented, "Does that mean you're going to stop running?" My response: "Is Boba fett Mandalorian?" (C'mon, people... Star Wars...) Not being a Star Wars nerd like myself, he commented, "Yeah, that doesn't answer my question, and I only asked because I know you well enough to know you wont run slow or take it easy." Ugh... I needed to be reminded of that. Of course, the same man who knows I never dry off after getting out of a body of water knows that I don't like to rest or go easy.
Then Jonah surprised me in a text conversation. He wanted to know why I was in Oregon instead of back in California. "My best friend from my childhood passed away." "Matthew? Oh wow, Ashlee, are you okay?" "Wow... how did you remember that?" He explained to me that I used to be priority to him so what was important to me was important to him. Other people from my past were concerned about me after Matthew's death as well. I felt incredibly supported and shocked when people who I hadn't spoken to in years were calling to check up on me before I even posted my blog. Monica wanted to let me know I was in her prayers. Ashley called constantly to check in on me and see how I was doing. (He was her boyfriend... shouldn't I be the one checking on her?) Michelle was texting me every day to see if I needed support. Even when I spent time with Matt's parents, they reminded me of all the great memories we had when I was younger. It was amazing to see how much people cared and remembered about me. I tend to put things in the back of my mind and they seem like part of a book instead of reality. When I try to look at my past, I feel like I'm reading a fairytale, not remembering the words that guarantee a smile on someone's face or the look that person gets when they are upset.
Is my problem that I've become so focused on myself, I've forgotten to study my friends and get to know them? Sophia remembers when I make dumb comments like, "I miss having a dirt tan line", but I couldn't tell you what she said to me this morning after my run and before work. My mom remembered that Virginia is the one state I've wanted to visit since I was in third grade, but I could not tell you which states my mom has and has not been to in her lifetime. I don't think the problem is I don't care about my friends, because I do. Really, honestly... I do!
I've been making an effort to pay better attention. When Tiffany and I met up in Bend last week, I studied her face while we sat at the picnic table. She has always been pretty, but this time, I noticed her freckles and the maturity in her eyes. She has a thin face and her hair is always perfectly pinned, allowing the gentle waves of her light brown hair to fall loosely along her shoulders. Since the day I met her five years ago, I've been envious of how beautiful the girl is, but I didn't realize the magnitude in her natural beauty until this summer.
When I met with Matt's mom, my second mother, also known as Aunt SherSher, I was stunned by her radiance. She held herself with such a confidence and moved in a carefree manner that was somehow still so graceful, calm and collected. Her skin looked young and fresh and her raven hair looked fuller and more vibrant than it did when I was a child. Despite the loss of her eldest child, she looked more at peace and youthful than before.
I am starting to notice these little details in everyone I speak with. Today was my first day back to work and I started to notice new characteristics in all of my clients. Alan has lost weight and looks fantastic from head to toe. Terri's hair has gotten lighter and it brings out the color in her eyes more. These are things I would not normally notice.
My goal for September is to begin to examine my friends and family more. I want to know them the way that they know me. I want to know what Grylls did for his fifth birthday, why my sister is terrified of insects and what Kaitlin likes to put on her biscuits. In college, I had a tenancy to learn facts for the test and forget them as soon as the school year was over; I don't want that to be the case here. I want to learn in order to better understand people and help them through rough patches or just make life more worthwhile in general.
When I was at my parents' house, I found this old journal I had taken to school and had my friends fill out in order to get to know them better. On the first page, each friend wrote his or her name and the following pages each had a question on them. Who is your favorite actress? When is your birthday? What is your biggest fear? I want to continue to strive to know the answers to those questions.
I'm not sure how to tie this all together because it's late and I'm tired and want to move on to my next project, so I will leave you with a little bit about myself:
I am totally rambling. No more. I'm going to try to sleep since I have to take my mom to the airport in four hours then have breakfast with Jayton! Yay! Then go to San Diego and meet Baby Isla, celebrate Dana's half-birthday and spend some quality time with my grandparents! Ahh.... see? Rambling. Night, blogesphere.
This summer, my friends would make comments that helped me realize how much of an open book I am. My first day in Sisters, I decided to run the three miles from Greg's office to my house. My mom passed by on her way home from coffee. She was laughing as she pulled the car over and said, "You run like an old woman!" Inside, I thought, Whatever, Mom! I'm not used to running on flat road! I've been climbing hills all summer. Instead I said, "Better to run like an old woman than have the knees of an old man." Wha-bam! There it was. Facebook status Online for the world to see. Josh, the person who probably knows me better than anyone else, commented, "Does that mean you're going to stop running?" My response: "Is Boba fett Mandalorian?" (C'mon, people... Star Wars...) Not being a Star Wars nerd like myself, he commented, "Yeah, that doesn't answer my question, and I only asked because I know you well enough to know you wont run slow or take it easy." Ugh... I needed to be reminded of that. Of course, the same man who knows I never dry off after getting out of a body of water knows that I don't like to rest or go easy.
 |
| Photo courtesy of www.superherostuff.com |
Then Jonah surprised me in a text conversation. He wanted to know why I was in Oregon instead of back in California. "My best friend from my childhood passed away." "Matthew? Oh wow, Ashlee, are you okay?" "Wow... how did you remember that?" He explained to me that I used to be priority to him so what was important to me was important to him. Other people from my past were concerned about me after Matthew's death as well. I felt incredibly supported and shocked when people who I hadn't spoken to in years were calling to check up on me before I even posted my blog. Monica wanted to let me know I was in her prayers. Ashley called constantly to check in on me and see how I was doing. (He was her boyfriend... shouldn't I be the one checking on her?) Michelle was texting me every day to see if I needed support. Even when I spent time with Matt's parents, they reminded me of all the great memories we had when I was younger. It was amazing to see how much people cared and remembered about me. I tend to put things in the back of my mind and they seem like part of a book instead of reality. When I try to look at my past, I feel like I'm reading a fairytale, not remembering the words that guarantee a smile on someone's face or the look that person gets when they are upset.
Is my problem that I've become so focused on myself, I've forgotten to study my friends and get to know them? Sophia remembers when I make dumb comments like, "I miss having a dirt tan line", but I couldn't tell you what she said to me this morning after my run and before work. My mom remembered that Virginia is the one state I've wanted to visit since I was in third grade, but I could not tell you which states my mom has and has not been to in her lifetime. I don't think the problem is I don't care about my friends, because I do. Really, honestly... I do!
I've been making an effort to pay better attention. When Tiffany and I met up in Bend last week, I studied her face while we sat at the picnic table. She has always been pretty, but this time, I noticed her freckles and the maturity in her eyes. She has a thin face and her hair is always perfectly pinned, allowing the gentle waves of her light brown hair to fall loosely along her shoulders. Since the day I met her five years ago, I've been envious of how beautiful the girl is, but I didn't realize the magnitude in her natural beauty until this summer.
When I met with Matt's mom, my second mother, also known as Aunt SherSher, I was stunned by her radiance. She held herself with such a confidence and moved in a carefree manner that was somehow still so graceful, calm and collected. Her skin looked young and fresh and her raven hair looked fuller and more vibrant than it did when I was a child. Despite the loss of her eldest child, she looked more at peace and youthful than before.
I am starting to notice these little details in everyone I speak with. Today was my first day back to work and I started to notice new characteristics in all of my clients. Alan has lost weight and looks fantastic from head to toe. Terri's hair has gotten lighter and it brings out the color in her eyes more. These are things I would not normally notice.
My goal for September is to begin to examine my friends and family more. I want to know them the way that they know me. I want to know what Grylls did for his fifth birthday, why my sister is terrified of insects and what Kaitlin likes to put on her biscuits. In college, I had a tenancy to learn facts for the test and forget them as soon as the school year was over; I don't want that to be the case here. I want to learn in order to better understand people and help them through rough patches or just make life more worthwhile in general.
When I was at my parents' house, I found this old journal I had taken to school and had my friends fill out in order to get to know them better. On the first page, each friend wrote his or her name and the following pages each had a question on them. Who is your favorite actress? When is your birthday? What is your biggest fear? I want to continue to strive to know the answers to those questions.
I'm not sure how to tie this all together because it's late and I'm tired and want to move on to my next project, so I will leave you with a little bit about myself:
- I hate taking the same path twice. Driving to work makes me crazy because there are only so many paths you can take and so many means in which you can take them before they become dull.
- Anything that has to do with Star Wars makes me super happy. When my mom and I drove down to California, I read her this Star Wars fan-fiction book that Sophie bought me at the opp shop. It was amazing. In fact, it was so good, I read it by headlamp light so I could finish it before we got home. I even used the voices and tried to imitate Darth Vader's heavy mask-breathing.
- I would much rather go on a long hike or run than shop downtown or go out to a bar. In fact, I feel incredibly uncomfortable at bars or dance clubs. Since I can't dance, when I'm out on the floor, I feel like everyone is judging me, even though I know they could care less.
- Painting and creating things makes me incredibly happy. One of the top five best feelings in the world is having acrylic paint on my legs, in my hair and underneath my fingertips. There are no rules in art; it is your own style and anything goes. There are no deadlines, no expectations. It is a total form of release.
- When I get out of the pool, the ocean or the shower, I don't dry off with a towel. It's not that I don't want to. I even have tried in the past, but Denise and Josh just made fun of me because supposedly I did it incorrectly. Many experiences have I had with wet legs and jeans that just won't go on or a silk top that suddenly had water stains from my dripping hair.
- If I could only listen to one genre of music for the rest of my life, it would be country music. There is a country song for every moment life throws at you. No, you don't need to own a dog named Jake, drive a pick-up truck or have your significant other leave you for another person; there are songs about barefoot, blue jean nights, kissing on high overlooks and long, hot summers. I don't know how I grew up in a cowboy town yet never enjoyed country music until a few years after I left it.
- Last thing for the night: I love it when people think I'm hardcore. Grylls claimed I'm good at everything. Rolf said he thought of me when he saw people running one of the highest points in Switzerland and thought that would be me someday. Tucker saying that I would totally run to the top of the Grand Teton every weekend if I lived in Jackson. Doug and Spurge commenting that I would probably go run 6 miles after an intense plyometrics class one night... which I did. When people think I'm super hardcore, it makes me want to be more hardcore. I think it's that way in every aspect of my life. If people thought I was organized, I might want to be more organized. One of my boss's never has positive feedback to give me, though I know he does value what I do, otherwise I wouldn't still be teaching at this gym. He never says anything nice about my abilities though; all I hear is him telling me how great other instructors are. I think he does it so I will continue to strive to be better, but when members are telling me I'm the hardest instructor they've ever had but all I ever hear my boss say is how great other people are, it makes me not want to work as hard. But I do anyways because my participants need me!
 |
| Thanks, Sophie! |
I am totally rambling. No more. I'm going to try to sleep since I have to take my mom to the airport in four hours then have breakfast with Jayton! Yay! Then go to San Diego and meet Baby Isla, celebrate Dana's half-birthday and spend some quality time with my grandparents! Ahh.... see? Rambling. Night, blogesphere.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
The Boyfriend Application
When a single girl reaches her mid-twenties, there is always one question that is brought up in every single conversation she has: So... do you have a boyfriend? It is the question that, unless the answer is yes, no girl really wants anyone to ask her; mostly, because if the answers no, people want to know why not. If she answers yes, she has to tell every single detail: Where she met him, what he's like, does he have a solid job, etc. As if we young women didn't have enough pressure to find Mr. Perfect already.
As my daddy made his way to Wyoming to drive me back home after camp, I knew the topic of my future would come up. The walls in the cabin we stayed in the first night were paper thin. I should have thought of this as I spoke with Nani over the phone, but I knew Dad would find out eventually.
"We have that amazing kiss then he basically ignores me for a week then he begged me not to leave and kissed me again! I don't understand him," I complained to my dear friend.
"Who kissed you," Dad wanted to know. Of course he did. So I told him who kissed me and I told him how I felt about the individual. He didn't say anything.
A full day passed before the topic of men was mentioned again. We were driving through Idaho and had just finished fishing the Snake River.
"So, Ashlee," he started. "What is the next step in your life? Are you going to get married? If so, where will you go to meet this man?"
Uhhmmmm.... "I am just enjoying each day as it comes, Daddy. I don't want to go out and pursue a man. When the timing is right, it will happen. I'm not worried about it. I'm really enjoying being single right now."
That wasn't good enough for him. "Well, Ash, are you going to have kids? If you are, I think doing what you're currently doing for a career is fine, but if you don't think you'll have kids, you should probably go back to school and further your education to get a better job. I just don't want you to get into more debt if you are going to try to juggle a family on top of that."
Mahhh! I have spent my entire life worrying about the future. I thought I would be married by the age of twenty, have my first child at 21 so I could be a young mom, be a physical therapist, etc. When I was 19, I got engaged. He was fun and carefree. A musician. Every love song he wrote was about me. Sweet boy, but that's exactly what he was... a boy. When I realized that, I broke it off. So much for being married at a young age.
At the age of twenty-one, I was in another serious relationship. Another great guy. He loved me to the point where it felt like he was already part of the family. He came home with me for Christmas. Things got serious. I started freaking out. What if I was choosing the wrong future for myself? So I pulled away and that relationship fizzled away. Well, not really fizzled. Popped, banged, hammered... any loud commotion you can think of. It was the most out of body experience I ever had.
I still was planning my future though. When Josh and I started dating, he was the first person to say, "Stop worrying about the future, Ashlee. Enjoy the moment. What will be, will be." So I did just that. There was the occasional freak out moment where I was faced with major life decisions and thought the world would come to an end if I chose door B instead of door A. Josh just reminded me to breath; things would work out.
Then Wyoming was put on my plate. It was the first time in my life that I felt I truly let go and let God. I have spent years trying to "trust God", but I never was able to let go of the steering wheel. Finally I did and it was one of the best decisions of my life.
I told Dad that. "I just need to trust God. He will bring someone when he knows I'm ready. I'm not going to go searching. It will happen if it's supposed to happen."
But my dad isn't the only one getting on my case about it; today I went hiking by myself. As I climbed up to Broken Top, I ran past a couple who was speaking a different language.
"Wow," the man exclaimed to his companion. "She is fast!" He turned his attention to me, "I'm going to join you!"
I laughed, but kept on running up the hill. The mountains came into view and I stopped to take a photo. The couple passed me, so I had to run by them again.
"Hey," the man said loudly. "Do you recognize my tongue?"
Excuse me?
"What language you think I speak," he asked.
Italian?
They seemed offended. The woman spoke up defensively, "No! We are from Russia!" She smiled, "Are you Polish?"
Norwegian, but I was born and raised here in the US.
"Oh! What part," she asked.
I live in California.
"Oh yes," she said. "California is beautiful!"
The man chimed in, "You alone? Where is you boyfriend?"
"I don't have one," I exclaimed. "Just going on an adventure alone!"
They seemed appalled. "You no have a boyfriend," the man gasped. Then his face lit up. "I will marry you!" His wife hit his bottom with her walking pole and said a phrase in Russian.
They asked some more questions about my being single and what I do for a living. It was cute. Then I took off running up the hill, thinking about how lucky I am to be single right now. My childhood best friend is pregnant with her second baby right now. Second baby! She is only 25 and she is about to have baby #2! I cannot believe I wanted a family by that age! At this point in my life, I cannot even imagine being tied down, not being able to just go on a 50-mile bike ride or 4-hour hike by myself. I love the stage of life I am in right now. I'm not worried about what tomorrow holds. Every day is a new adventure. If I was married with kids, I probably would not have been able to play dodgeball with Tiffany and her husband this evening or take the Hummel girls hiking tomorrow. I definitely would not have gone to Wyoming for the summer. Think of all the adventures I would have missed out on!!!
When I do meet a man though, I have discovered what I do and don't want in a future boyfriend. Ha! Dana and I totally made a boyfriend application during our first year of college. Questions such as Do you have a tattoo? If you got one, where and what would it be? or What is your favorite thing about my best friend? graced its pages. We made Jonah take it before he and I started dating. He did really well on the application part but flipped out on me later that night for putting him through a "test"... guess testing your boyfriend to see if he's good enough isn't the greatest idea.
I don't ask for a lot, but I do need a man who will explore with me. I have dated boys who think the best date night is going out to a fancy restaurant and parading you on their arm or staying in and watching Star Wars while eating cinnamon sugar toast. Don't get me wrong; these are both excellent date ideas... but every single time you hang out? I want a man who challenges me physically, spiritually, mentally, emotionally. I am the type of girl who sees a path that looks abandoned and decides to explore that path instead of staying on the main trail. If I see two trails and a person is hiking one path, I'll take the other to have a new experience. I hate running the same trail twice. I need a man who understands, supports and encourages that mindset.
Oh boys. Boys turn to men. Men turn to stone. Bahhh. This blog could go on for awhile. Conversations about how once men get older, they get less interested and I would prefer being interesting than married... I don't even know. As Tucker once told me, "Ashlee, you are really complicated." Oh boy, you have no idea... If I can't figure myself out, we have a problem.
As my daddy made his way to Wyoming to drive me back home after camp, I knew the topic of my future would come up. The walls in the cabin we stayed in the first night were paper thin. I should have thought of this as I spoke with Nani over the phone, but I knew Dad would find out eventually.
"We have that amazing kiss then he basically ignores me for a week then he begged me not to leave and kissed me again! I don't understand him," I complained to my dear friend.
"Who kissed you," Dad wanted to know. Of course he did. So I told him who kissed me and I told him how I felt about the individual. He didn't say anything.
A full day passed before the topic of men was mentioned again. We were driving through Idaho and had just finished fishing the Snake River.
"So, Ashlee," he started. "What is the next step in your life? Are you going to get married? If so, where will you go to meet this man?"
Uhhmmmm.... "I am just enjoying each day as it comes, Daddy. I don't want to go out and pursue a man. When the timing is right, it will happen. I'm not worried about it. I'm really enjoying being single right now."
That wasn't good enough for him. "Well, Ash, are you going to have kids? If you are, I think doing what you're currently doing for a career is fine, but if you don't think you'll have kids, you should probably go back to school and further your education to get a better job. I just don't want you to get into more debt if you are going to try to juggle a family on top of that."
Mahhh! I have spent my entire life worrying about the future. I thought I would be married by the age of twenty, have my first child at 21 so I could be a young mom, be a physical therapist, etc. When I was 19, I got engaged. He was fun and carefree. A musician. Every love song he wrote was about me. Sweet boy, but that's exactly what he was... a boy. When I realized that, I broke it off. So much for being married at a young age.
At the age of twenty-one, I was in another serious relationship. Another great guy. He loved me to the point where it felt like he was already part of the family. He came home with me for Christmas. Things got serious. I started freaking out. What if I was choosing the wrong future for myself? So I pulled away and that relationship fizzled away. Well, not really fizzled. Popped, banged, hammered... any loud commotion you can think of. It was the most out of body experience I ever had.
I still was planning my future though. When Josh and I started dating, he was the first person to say, "Stop worrying about the future, Ashlee. Enjoy the moment. What will be, will be." So I did just that. There was the occasional freak out moment where I was faced with major life decisions and thought the world would come to an end if I chose door B instead of door A. Josh just reminded me to breath; things would work out.
Then Wyoming was put on my plate. It was the first time in my life that I felt I truly let go and let God. I have spent years trying to "trust God", but I never was able to let go of the steering wheel. Finally I did and it was one of the best decisions of my life.
I told Dad that. "I just need to trust God. He will bring someone when he knows I'm ready. I'm not going to go searching. It will happen if it's supposed to happen."
But my dad isn't the only one getting on my case about it; today I went hiking by myself. As I climbed up to Broken Top, I ran past a couple who was speaking a different language.
 |
| My new friends |
"Wow," the man exclaimed to his companion. "She is fast!" He turned his attention to me, "I'm going to join you!"
I laughed, but kept on running up the hill. The mountains came into view and I stopped to take a photo. The couple passed me, so I had to run by them again.
"Hey," the man said loudly. "Do you recognize my tongue?"
Excuse me?
"What language you think I speak," he asked.
Italian?
They seemed offended. The woman spoke up defensively, "No! We are from Russia!" She smiled, "Are you Polish?"
Norwegian, but I was born and raised here in the US.
"Oh! What part," she asked.
I live in California.
"Oh yes," she said. "California is beautiful!"
The man chimed in, "You alone? Where is you boyfriend?"
"I don't have one," I exclaimed. "Just going on an adventure alone!"
They seemed appalled. "You no have a boyfriend," the man gasped. Then his face lit up. "I will marry you!" His wife hit his bottom with her walking pole and said a phrase in Russian.
They asked some more questions about my being single and what I do for a living. It was cute. Then I took off running up the hill, thinking about how lucky I am to be single right now. My childhood best friend is pregnant with her second baby right now. Second baby! She is only 25 and she is about to have baby #2! I cannot believe I wanted a family by that age! At this point in my life, I cannot even imagine being tied down, not being able to just go on a 50-mile bike ride or 4-hour hike by myself. I love the stage of life I am in right now. I'm not worried about what tomorrow holds. Every day is a new adventure. If I was married with kids, I probably would not have been able to play dodgeball with Tiffany and her husband this evening or take the Hummel girls hiking tomorrow. I definitely would not have gone to Wyoming for the summer. Think of all the adventures I would have missed out on!!!
When I do meet a man though, I have discovered what I do and don't want in a future boyfriend. Ha! Dana and I totally made a boyfriend application during our first year of college. Questions such as Do you have a tattoo? If you got one, where and what would it be? or What is your favorite thing about my best friend? graced its pages. We made Jonah take it before he and I started dating. He did really well on the application part but flipped out on me later that night for putting him through a "test"... guess testing your boyfriend to see if he's good enough isn't the greatest idea.
I don't ask for a lot, but I do need a man who will explore with me. I have dated boys who think the best date night is going out to a fancy restaurant and parading you on their arm or staying in and watching Star Wars while eating cinnamon sugar toast. Don't get me wrong; these are both excellent date ideas... but every single time you hang out? I want a man who challenges me physically, spiritually, mentally, emotionally. I am the type of girl who sees a path that looks abandoned and decides to explore that path instead of staying on the main trail. If I see two trails and a person is hiking one path, I'll take the other to have a new experience. I hate running the same trail twice. I need a man who understands, supports and encourages that mindset.
Oh boys. Boys turn to men. Men turn to stone. Bahhh. This blog could go on for awhile. Conversations about how once men get older, they get less interested and I would prefer being interesting than married... I don't even know. As Tucker once told me, "Ashlee, you are really complicated." Oh boy, you have no idea... If I can't figure myself out, we have a problem.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
My Achilles Heel
In ancient Greek mythology, a baby named Achilles was born. Upon his arrival into the world, it was foretold that he would die young in battle. His mother, like any mother would, wanted to protect him, so she dipped him in the River Styx to coat him with its powers of invincibility. Achilles was untouchable; nothing could harm him. There was only one spot on his body that was exposed to danger; it was the spot where his mother held him to dip: His heel.
I live a fairly healthy lifestyle. Exercise, eat well, drink water... but we all have our Achilles heel, right? Wrong. I totally don't have an Achilles heel. I can do pretty much anything perfectly because I have never run into my...
Sugar.
Alright, I admit it. I have a weakness. A big one.
It's sugar.
Chocolate especially. And cookies. Mmmmm cookies... like the ones at Taylor Creek.
Grrrrrr. Dumb sugar.
I could eat sugar breakfast, lunch, dinner and every minute in between.
But... a strange thing has been happening lately. Every time I eat sugar, strange things happen to me. This monster comes out. He wiggles my pupils around so I can't focus on anything. He sucks all of my energy out of me so suddenly I'm falling asleep. He doesn't care if I'm driving; he will still come out to mess with my body. I imagine that this monster is kinda furry... maybe blue in color with big, oogly-googly eyes. He probably talks funny and I have just chosen to ignore him for twenty-four years.
My Achilles heel monster has gotten the best of me. You suck, Achilles heel monster. What did I ever do to you? I kept you supplied with sugar, probably more sugar than you could ever have dreamed of, yet you torture me.
So you know what you get now, Achilles heel monster? You get a big, fat, stinking heaping of fruit and veggies. That's right, you heard me... or, maybe you heard the sound of my fingers on my keyboard. Either way, Mr. Monster, you are going down. Uh-huh, that's right. I'm going to starve you. No sugar. Not even organic.
Wahhh... even as I type this, I am regretting every word. Stupid monster. But, Mr. Monster, if you are going to behave this way, you must suffer the consequences. I can almost hear you yelping in the background, "I'm melting, I'm melting!" Well, melt away, you monster, you.
Starting tomorrow and lasting for as long as I can (hopefully until the end of September), I will not be partaking in the consumption of my weak link. I'm curious to see how that affects my training, which is really nonexistant at the moment, but will start up again shortly. Tomorrow I am attempting a portion of the Pacific Coast Trail (Three Fingered Jack), so I hope I can keep the energy and strength levels high while the fatigue and nausea stay at a minimum.
Dear Mr. Achilles Heel Monster,
I plan to do this hike alone. Please use this as an excuse to go on an extended vacation. Don't worry about writing; I know you'll miss me.
All my best,
Miss Ashlee
I live a fairly healthy lifestyle. Exercise, eat well, drink water... but we all have our Achilles heel, right? Wrong. I totally don't have an Achilles heel. I can do pretty much anything perfectly because I have never run into my...
Sugar.
 |
| http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-4848/Sugar-Can-Make-You-Dumb.html |
Alright, I admit it. I have a weakness. A big one.
It's sugar.
Chocolate especially. And cookies. Mmmmm cookies... like the ones at Taylor Creek.
Grrrrrr. Dumb sugar.
I could eat sugar breakfast, lunch, dinner and every minute in between.
But... a strange thing has been happening lately. Every time I eat sugar, strange things happen to me. This monster comes out. He wiggles my pupils around so I can't focus on anything. He sucks all of my energy out of me so suddenly I'm falling asleep. He doesn't care if I'm driving; he will still come out to mess with my body. I imagine that this monster is kinda furry... maybe blue in color with big, oogly-googly eyes. He probably talks funny and I have just chosen to ignore him for twenty-four years.
 |
| He may look cuddly, but when he latches onto you, he is not easy to get rid of |
My Achilles heel monster has gotten the best of me. You suck, Achilles heel monster. What did I ever do to you? I kept you supplied with sugar, probably more sugar than you could ever have dreamed of, yet you torture me.
So you know what you get now, Achilles heel monster? You get a big, fat, stinking heaping of fruit and veggies. That's right, you heard me... or, maybe you heard the sound of my fingers on my keyboard. Either way, Mr. Monster, you are going down. Uh-huh, that's right. I'm going to starve you. No sugar. Not even organic.
Wahhh... even as I type this, I am regretting every word. Stupid monster. But, Mr. Monster, if you are going to behave this way, you must suffer the consequences. I can almost hear you yelping in the background, "I'm melting, I'm melting!" Well, melt away, you monster, you.
Starting tomorrow and lasting for as long as I can (hopefully until the end of September), I will not be partaking in the consumption of my weak link. I'm curious to see how that affects my training, which is really nonexistant at the moment, but will start up again shortly. Tomorrow I am attempting a portion of the Pacific Coast Trail (Three Fingered Jack), so I hope I can keep the energy and strength levels high while the fatigue and nausea stay at a minimum.
Dear Mr. Achilles Heel Monster,
I plan to do this hike alone. Please use this as an excuse to go on an extended vacation. Don't worry about writing; I know you'll miss me.
All my best,
Miss Ashlee
Saturday, August 11, 2012
It Happens In the Blink of An Eye
The tears come in waves. One moment I'm fine. The next moment, I am curled up on the floor sobbing out of control. He's constantly on my mind, but it doesn't always seem real.
The day started out like any other; my alarm went off at 5:30AM. I snoozed it four times before I finally brought my knees into my chest and my feet out of my bag. As I drove down the long dirt rode into town, I turned on my iTunes shuffle. Stopping by Kathy's on my way out, I grabbed a soy chai then got the credit cards from Becki. It was my last trip to Walmart and I was stoked. My friend from high school Michelle and I chatted the entire time I shopped. We talked about high school and people we no longer keep in touch with. I thought of Matt, Ashley, Lauren... people I really should call. Matt and I text very sporadically and I thought it was about time I checked in on him, but he didn't respond.
After finishing up at Wally World, Smiths, Graham's Gluten-Free Foods and Albertsons, I received a voicemail from my mom. She didn't sound well.
"Where are you," she demanded.
"Driving home from Walmart," I responded.
"I will wait til you get home. I don't want to tell you this while you're driving. You should be around someone," her words were making me nervous.
"Is Kaylee okay," I demanded. "Just tell me."
"Matt is dead."
The three words hung in the air. There was silence. I am still in shock. It doesn't seem real. I called Ashley to tell her. She didn't believe me. I didn't believe myself.
I cried the entire ninety minute drive home. I cried back at my tent. Mackenzi sat and listened to me as I thought back to my days growing up with Matthew.
Best friend. Brother. Classmate. Matt was all of these things and more to me. It's been two days and the memory of him has yet to leave my mind. I try to think of other things, but it doesn't happen. I hike, I run, I cook... he's still there. Growing up, we laughed together, we learned together, we explored together, we fought with one another... he was the closest thing to a brother that I ever had.
The memories are endless, but my favorites are the ones that stay replaying in my head.
From third to eighth grade, Matt, Peter and I were the only people in our class. In third grade, Mr. Muir had us line up to race around the baseball field. The whistle blew and we ran. It was one of the best moments of my life; I raced two boys and beat them both. After the race, Matt and I discovered that we lived five houses down from each other. Before we knew it, our parents were best friends, our sisters were best friends and we were inseparable. We spent every day at one another's houses. We went on family vacations together. He was my brother. He knew everything about me and he still loved me. In fourth grade, we planned our wedding. His middle name was the same as my last name, so we were excited to be able to sign Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Francis Ruettgers on our letters once we were married. His sister used to get mad at us for hanging out when she and I had our play dates.
The summer of sixth grade, Matt and his family went to California to see their cousins. When he came back, I was dying to see him. My mom wanted to go see his mom, so we rushed over there the instant they stepped through the front door. Before I even made it up the stairway, Matt met me from the top. "Ash, I have something for you," he said. "While I was in California, I talked to my dad about dating you. He said we are too young, but I really like you, so can we date without telling our parents?" Of course I said yes. He gave me a pearl necklace he had gotten from an oyster on his trip and I wore it every day for years until I lost it.
I was saving my first kiss for my wedding day. One night, my sister and I were sleeping over at his house. Technically, I was supposed to be having a slumber party with his sister Katherine while Kaylee slept over with Susan, but as usual, Matt and I ended up spending most of the evening together. Katherine complained to her parents and they called us aside to tell us we couldn't hang out together for the rest of the evening. They even banned him from the rec room when we went to bed. I love Katherine, but I remember wishing Matt was there the entire time; turns out he was in the laundry section spying on us. I tried to convince Katherine we should go to bed, but she kept chatting. When she finally fell asleep, Matt snuck over. He laid on the couch that was an L-shape from mine. Our heads together, we talked all night long. Around 3AM, the subject of kissing came up. "I don't understand why you're waiting," he started. "What if you end up kissing someone who isn't special to you? Don't you think you should kiss someone who is important to you?" Next thing I knew, we were both standing up, face to face. It was cold out, so I had a blanket wrapped around me. He placed his arms with his blanket around me and our foreheads came together. He kissed my forehead. Then he went in for the real deal. As our lips almost met, Katherine sat straight up on her couch and made some sort of exclamation. I leapt back onto my couch as Matt hid behind his. Fortunately, she was sleep talking. We decided to wait a little while to make sure she was really asleep; unfortunately, I fell asleep too quickly and the kiss never happened.
A couple of weeks later, Matt asked me on a date. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was playing, so Mr. Ruett, Matt, my dad and I went to see the show. Our fathers sat on either side of us. The kissing scene came up and my dad reached his hand over my eyes. Matt giggled. Thanks, Dad.
On one of our family vacations, we all went shopping in Portland. Kyle was with us, too, and the boys followed us into Bath and Body Works. After a couple of minutes, they got bored. Next thing we knew, they were painting their toenails with blue and purple sparkly nail polish. So weird that both of them are gone now. That was the same trip that they dug my training bra out of my bag. I was mortified. "Oh my gosh! They know I have boobs!"
On another family vacation, we all went to a play in Portland, followed by a fancy dinner and a nice hotel. During the play, Matt and I tried to sit together. I think I was dating someone else at this point, but Matt was pursuing me. After the play, we walked to the restaurant and Matt held his umbrella over me so I wouldn't get wet. By the end of the walk, he was soaked. We ate calamari that night. He convinced me to break up with my boyfriend so we could date, but we didn't end up dating after that.
In eighth grade, Peter was ill one day and I could tell Matt missed him. As we walked up to history class, Ms. Halsten wasn't in the room yet, but her car keys were. I looked at Matt and dangled the car keys in the air. "Want to teach me how to drive," I asked. We rushed out to Ms. Halsten's car and I jumped inside. He refused to get in, but decided to instruct me from outside. He jumped as the car lurched forward. I almost hit the basketball hoop. Finally, he directed me into a new parking spot and we rushed back upstairs giggling. "Where have you been," asked Ms. Halsten. Four years later, she was still telling the story to her students.
For my fifteenth birthday, my mom took my girlfriends, Matt and I TPing. We forked Cory's yard, TPed a couple of friends' yards and placed a dead squirrel on Bryan's doorstep.
I vividly remember finding out that he and my best friend Ashley were dating. Neither one of them knew how to tell me because they were scared it would hurt my feelings. They decided it would be best if Matt told me. I was on the elliptical at the athletic club when his voice nervously came through with the news. I was ecstatic! My two best friends were dating!
My sister and I always wanted a brother, so we made up a story about our brother who lived in the garage. His name was Matthew, of course. Deep down, we both knew we named him that because of Matt and our relationship with him
Ahhh... there are so many memories. I can tell you all of the girls Matt liked growing up. I can tell you the only girl he ever truly loved, who just happened to be one of my very best friends. He and his dad had this incredible relationship; they were best friends. He respected his dad and wanted to be just like him, even though he would never admit that to his father. He adored his sisters and treated my sister as if she were his own. Matt would do anything for his mom.
Oh... football games, Y2K, Mike's Hard Lemonade, him judging/hating every guy I dated, the day he stopped caring about who I dated, cruises to Mexico, senior trips blasting music in our convertible Mustang, house boating on Lake Shasta, watching our first baseball game and cheering as loudly as possible...
Matthew really was my brother. Our families would agree. His parents were my second parents and mine were his. Our moms had us betrothed. I may not have been as close to him in the past several years, but he will always hold an incredibly special place in my life. He helped shape me into the woman I am today. He will truly be missed.
The day started out like any other; my alarm went off at 5:30AM. I snoozed it four times before I finally brought my knees into my chest and my feet out of my bag. As I drove down the long dirt rode into town, I turned on my iTunes shuffle. Stopping by Kathy's on my way out, I grabbed a soy chai then got the credit cards from Becki. It was my last trip to Walmart and I was stoked. My friend from high school Michelle and I chatted the entire time I shopped. We talked about high school and people we no longer keep in touch with. I thought of Matt, Ashley, Lauren... people I really should call. Matt and I text very sporadically and I thought it was about time I checked in on him, but he didn't respond.
After finishing up at Wally World, Smiths, Graham's Gluten-Free Foods and Albertsons, I received a voicemail from my mom. She didn't sound well.
"Where are you," she demanded.
"Driving home from Walmart," I responded.
"I will wait til you get home. I don't want to tell you this while you're driving. You should be around someone," her words were making me nervous.
"Is Kaylee okay," I demanded. "Just tell me."
"Matt is dead."
The three words hung in the air. There was silence. I am still in shock. It doesn't seem real. I called Ashley to tell her. She didn't believe me. I didn't believe myself.
I cried the entire ninety minute drive home. I cried back at my tent. Mackenzi sat and listened to me as I thought back to my days growing up with Matthew.
Best friend. Brother. Classmate. Matt was all of these things and more to me. It's been two days and the memory of him has yet to leave my mind. I try to think of other things, but it doesn't happen. I hike, I run, I cook... he's still there. Growing up, we laughed together, we learned together, we explored together, we fought with one another... he was the closest thing to a brother that I ever had.
The memories are endless, but my favorites are the ones that stay replaying in my head.
From third to eighth grade, Matt, Peter and I were the only people in our class. In third grade, Mr. Muir had us line up to race around the baseball field. The whistle blew and we ran. It was one of the best moments of my life; I raced two boys and beat them both. After the race, Matt and I discovered that we lived five houses down from each other. Before we knew it, our parents were best friends, our sisters were best friends and we were inseparable. We spent every day at one another's houses. We went on family vacations together. He was my brother. He knew everything about me and he still loved me. In fourth grade, we planned our wedding. His middle name was the same as my last name, so we were excited to be able to sign Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Francis Ruettgers on our letters once we were married. His sister used to get mad at us for hanging out when she and I had our play dates.
The summer of sixth grade, Matt and his family went to California to see their cousins. When he came back, I was dying to see him. My mom wanted to go see his mom, so we rushed over there the instant they stepped through the front door. Before I even made it up the stairway, Matt met me from the top. "Ash, I have something for you," he said. "While I was in California, I talked to my dad about dating you. He said we are too young, but I really like you, so can we date without telling our parents?" Of course I said yes. He gave me a pearl necklace he had gotten from an oyster on his trip and I wore it every day for years until I lost it.
I was saving my first kiss for my wedding day. One night, my sister and I were sleeping over at his house. Technically, I was supposed to be having a slumber party with his sister Katherine while Kaylee slept over with Susan, but as usual, Matt and I ended up spending most of the evening together. Katherine complained to her parents and they called us aside to tell us we couldn't hang out together for the rest of the evening. They even banned him from the rec room when we went to bed. I love Katherine, but I remember wishing Matt was there the entire time; turns out he was in the laundry section spying on us. I tried to convince Katherine we should go to bed, but she kept chatting. When she finally fell asleep, Matt snuck over. He laid on the couch that was an L-shape from mine. Our heads together, we talked all night long. Around 3AM, the subject of kissing came up. "I don't understand why you're waiting," he started. "What if you end up kissing someone who isn't special to you? Don't you think you should kiss someone who is important to you?" Next thing I knew, we were both standing up, face to face. It was cold out, so I had a blanket wrapped around me. He placed his arms with his blanket around me and our foreheads came together. He kissed my forehead. Then he went in for the real deal. As our lips almost met, Katherine sat straight up on her couch and made some sort of exclamation. I leapt back onto my couch as Matt hid behind his. Fortunately, she was sleep talking. We decided to wait a little while to make sure she was really asleep; unfortunately, I fell asleep too quickly and the kiss never happened.
A couple of weeks later, Matt asked me on a date. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was playing, so Mr. Ruett, Matt, my dad and I went to see the show. Our fathers sat on either side of us. The kissing scene came up and my dad reached his hand over my eyes. Matt giggled. Thanks, Dad.
On one of our family vacations, we all went shopping in Portland. Kyle was with us, too, and the boys followed us into Bath and Body Works. After a couple of minutes, they got bored. Next thing we knew, they were painting their toenails with blue and purple sparkly nail polish. So weird that both of them are gone now. That was the same trip that they dug my training bra out of my bag. I was mortified. "Oh my gosh! They know I have boobs!"
On another family vacation, we all went to a play in Portland, followed by a fancy dinner and a nice hotel. During the play, Matt and I tried to sit together. I think I was dating someone else at this point, but Matt was pursuing me. After the play, we walked to the restaurant and Matt held his umbrella over me so I wouldn't get wet. By the end of the walk, he was soaked. We ate calamari that night. He convinced me to break up with my boyfriend so we could date, but we didn't end up dating after that.
In eighth grade, Peter was ill one day and I could tell Matt missed him. As we walked up to history class, Ms. Halsten wasn't in the room yet, but her car keys were. I looked at Matt and dangled the car keys in the air. "Want to teach me how to drive," I asked. We rushed out to Ms. Halsten's car and I jumped inside. He refused to get in, but decided to instruct me from outside. He jumped as the car lurched forward. I almost hit the basketball hoop. Finally, he directed me into a new parking spot and we rushed back upstairs giggling. "Where have you been," asked Ms. Halsten. Four years later, she was still telling the story to her students.
For my fifteenth birthday, my mom took my girlfriends, Matt and I TPing. We forked Cory's yard, TPed a couple of friends' yards and placed a dead squirrel on Bryan's doorstep.
I vividly remember finding out that he and my best friend Ashley were dating. Neither one of them knew how to tell me because they were scared it would hurt my feelings. They decided it would be best if Matt told me. I was on the elliptical at the athletic club when his voice nervously came through with the news. I was ecstatic! My two best friends were dating!
My sister and I always wanted a brother, so we made up a story about our brother who lived in the garage. His name was Matthew, of course. Deep down, we both knew we named him that because of Matt and our relationship with him
Ahhh... there are so many memories. I can tell you all of the girls Matt liked growing up. I can tell you the only girl he ever truly loved, who just happened to be one of my very best friends. He and his dad had this incredible relationship; they were best friends. He respected his dad and wanted to be just like him, even though he would never admit that to his father. He adored his sisters and treated my sister as if she were his own. Matt would do anything for his mom.
Oh... football games, Y2K, Mike's Hard Lemonade, him judging/hating every guy I dated, the day he stopped caring about who I dated, cruises to Mexico, senior trips blasting music in our convertible Mustang, house boating on Lake Shasta, watching our first baseball game and cheering as loudly as possible...
Matthew really was my brother. Our families would agree. His parents were my second parents and mine were his. Our moms had us betrothed. I may not have been as close to him in the past several years, but he will always hold an incredibly special place in my life. He helped shape me into the woman I am today. He will truly be missed.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Feed Me Cookies
It is a sad day for my skinny jeans when there are cookies in the room.
No meat. Check.
No dairy. Check.
No coffee. Check.
But no cookies? Uhmmm that's not so easy to just check off the list.
Johan just had to buy Kasey those amazing looking cookies. And I just had to go get myself a bag. They were the most amazing cookies I had ever tasted. Macadamia nuts, chocolate chips, oats... goodnight nurse! Feed me to the bears now because I never want another taste to enter my mouth again.
I have been terrible about uploading workouts, so here you all go (if all y'all are still following):
Cycle
10:00 Warm-up Zone 1
5:00 of :30 easy, :30 spin up (100 CAD/RPM or higher)
3:00 zone 2
2:00 build to zone 4
3:00 recovery zone 1
:15 sprint, :15 recover, :30 sprint, :30 recover, :45 sprint, :45 recover (repeat)
2:00 recovery zone 1
:30 zone 4, :30 zone 1, 1:00 zone 4, 1:00 zone 1, 1:30 zone 4, 1:30 zone 1 (repeat)
2:00 recovery zone 1
3:00 zone 2
2:00 build to zone 4
5:00 Cool down
Abs
1:00 each exercise 3x through
Straight arm plank
Side plank right
Windshield wipers
Lion Kings
Side plank left
Scorpions
I finished my latest painting of Jenny Lake! It is finished! Check it out:
Yesterday, Kasey had the day off. We Old Gregged people, explored the local thrift store and shopped for the Free-Bin Formal. Here are some pictures from our day of fun:
No meat. Check.
No dairy. Check.
No coffee. Check.
But no cookies? Uhmmm that's not so easy to just check off the list.
Johan just had to buy Kasey those amazing looking cookies. And I just had to go get myself a bag. They were the most amazing cookies I had ever tasted. Macadamia nuts, chocolate chips, oats... goodnight nurse! Feed me to the bears now because I never want another taste to enter my mouth again.
I have been terrible about uploading workouts, so here you all go (if all y'all are still following):
Cycle
10:00 Warm-up Zone 1
5:00 of :30 easy, :30 spin up (100 CAD/RPM or higher)
3:00 zone 2
2:00 build to zone 4
3:00 recovery zone 1
:15 sprint, :15 recover, :30 sprint, :30 recover, :45 sprint, :45 recover (repeat)
2:00 recovery zone 1
:30 zone 4, :30 zone 1, 1:00 zone 4, 1:00 zone 1, 1:30 zone 4, 1:30 zone 1 (repeat)
2:00 recovery zone 1
3:00 zone 2
2:00 build to zone 4
5:00 Cool down
Abs
1:00 each exercise 3x through
Straight arm plank
Side plank right
Windshield wipers
Lion Kings
Side plank left
Scorpions
I finished my latest painting of Jenny Lake! It is finished! Check it out:
Yesterday, Kasey had the day off. We Old Gregged people, explored the local thrift store and shopped for the Free-Bin Formal. Here are some pictures from our day of fun:
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