Saturday, June 28, 2014

it's a wonder we keep going back

Since I've last written here our baby robins have left the nest and it was a very emotional time.  I've gotten myself a promotion at work. And our condo complex pool opened.  Basically, BOY HAVE I BEEN BUSY.

Also, we bought two more new tires which brings our tally to $ix new tire$ in just shy of four months of marriage, for those keeping track at home.  

Matt and I have also been keeping up with our gym routine on a fairly regular basis.  I wish I could say we've come a long way from our slightly awkward gym beginnings, but that's not exactly the case.

On our first visit to the gym, I approached a weight machine and took a seat.  I set the weights to a whopping 15 pounds and started lifting, but it felt awkward.  After my first set of reps (I totally have the gym lingo down) Matt came over and informed me that I was sitting on the machine backwards, which explained my difficulty.  I thought the part where you lean you chest/stomach was a backrest.

Evidently the focus of the gym is not on comfort and relaxation. 


Our routine includes a half hour on the treadmills, and we always try to get two next to each other so we can mouth things to each other like "what do you want to do for dinner?" and "I could really go for a blueberry pie" mid workout.

When thirty minutes is up, Matt turns his machine off and as it slows down, dramatically slides to the end and leaps off to go get paper towels to wipe off the treadmills.  Well, the other night he forgot to hit the stop button.  And so when he returned with the paper towels, he hopped back up on the STILL MOVING treadmill to wipe it off and took himself QUITE the tumble.  There was a split second of terror but after we realized he was okay we I had a good laugh.

And for the past several days I've gotten a lot of mileage out of his little mishap.  I've brought it up several times, but that ended yesterday.  

Because, pride. It cometh before the fall.

I was strolling along at an impressive speed last night when a message started scrolling across my treadmill screen.  "NEED HEART RATE. PLACE HANDS ON SENSORS OR USE TELEMETRY METER."

I was familiar with the hand sensors, but a telemetry meter?  Now that sounded new and interesting and fun.  I scanned the machine and on the side saw a small red disk attached to the treadmill with a cord, so I figured, HELLO, TELEMETRY METER.  

And so I proceeded to grab that little "meter" except IT WAS THE EMERGENCY STOP BUTTON.  The treadmill stopped immediately but unfortunately my body kept  moving at a 3.9 speed setting and I almost flipped right over the front of the machine.

Thank you, inertia.

Once I got my bearings I looked down at the treadmill screen and what I saw was even more embarassing.  The screen was flashing:  "MACHINE STOPPED.  NEED MANAGER RESET."

I abandoned that treadmill in no time flat and took off to the weight machines.  

At least I know how to use those correctly.


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Sunday, June 22, 2014

why i love june weekends: in (mostly) photos

Eating every meal on the patio with my main man.

(We also had brussels sprouts.)

 Afternoons at the pool.
 Weeds in the woods.  Pretty ones.
 Drinking an extra cup of coffee so I can admire my gorgeous garden a bit longer and congratulate myself on my very green thumb.  And my humility.

 New Pandora stations, inspired by seeing Jersey Boys this weekend with my mom and sister.

And finally, finding a random car magnet on the street (aka STRIKING GOLD) and secretly sticking it on Matt's car.  And then waiting to see how long it would take him to discover it.

Spoiler alert: he discovered it when he took the trash out after dinner, less than three hours after I stuck it on there.  Because on his way out the door I told him it would be in his best interest to examine the back of his car.  So basically I cannot keep a secret.

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Monday, June 2, 2014

things are a little fowl around here

About three weeks ago, I discovered that a bird had built a nest in the gutter between our condo and our neighbor's. A few days later a robin started to sit on the nest, and naturally I kept a very close eye on things and didn't even sweep that side of the patio or weed that end of the garden lest I disturb her.

The babies finally hatched last Saturday, and I've become borderline obsessed with the whole situation ever since.  I check on them every morning before I leave for work and immediately when I get home.  I sit outside at our picnic table and watch the mama bird fly in with worms and feed her cheeping babies.  I've done exhaustive research on baby robins.  I worry when it rains hard, or when the carpenter bee that's also taken up residence on our patio flies too close to them.  I've taken countless photos of the nest and yesterday I even took a three minute video of the babies.

Last night I HAD A DREAM about our baby birds learning to fly.  Even I know that's a bit unusual, and a sure sign that I need to REIGN IN THE CRAZY because I am officially losing it.

And then I was emailing back and forth with my dad this morning and he told me that he and my mom got four little tadpoles for their backyard pond this weekend. 

And my mom named them. 

Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young.

So evidently the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

I got home from work today and when I walked in, I saw Matt on the couch.  He looked awful.  He was sneezing and sniffling and his eyes were red and watery and swollen.

I asked him what was wrong and he said, "Well, my allergies are acting up.  I knew I shouldn't have followed that turkey."  

Hmm.  Now that's a statement that's going to require a bit of clarification.

Evidently when he pulled into our parking lot, he spotted a turkey.  So he got out of his car and sneakily followed the turkey into the woods because he wanted to see where it lived.

His search was unsuccessful, but he has big plans to hit the woods again, WITH A TURKEY CALL, to see if he can find the turkey homestead. 

Where do we sign up for a our birdwatcher's memberships?

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