One Does Not Equal an Infestation--I Hope

Somethings are good in gobs, gaggles, and bunches. There is nothing better than a gob of pre-schoolers at a petting zoo. I love seeing gaggles of geese flying overhead in their perfect V formation. And it sure is fun to get bunches of pretty flowers from time to time. But even ONE of some things is too much! For Suburban Turmoil, that would be bugs. Ants in particular. She can't stand them. She has tried everything to rid her home of the little buggers, but to no avail. For me, one mouse is one too many. There is nothing worse than going down to the extra bedroom in the basement and finding little mouse "evidence" on the bed. So gross! Even though I have cleaned and scrubbed, I will never have another guest sleep in that bed. David did catch the little visitor last night. But if you have one, don't you usually have more that are just lurking around? Pepper was such a good mouser in her younger days and I was hoping that Josie would learn the trade. But alas, Josie is not interested in mousing for us because she is too busy chewing up other things--like expensive training watches. I would be all for a cat, but dear Katelyn is quite allergic to them. So instead we will stick with the old-school "snap" traps because they actually work. We'll also cling to the belief that one does not necessarily mean many.

Jealousy or Boredom?

The Crime:

Yes, that is my Garmin 305 chewed to bits. It was discovered by Carson when he arrived home from school today.

The Perp:

The motive: Destroy the other "training" buddy. The Garmin always got to go with me on long runs, but Josie was left behind.

Probing question: If the Garmin was such a prized training implement, why was it left in the reach of a jealous running partner? It might have something to do with a certain husband who borrowed for his long bike ride and then neglected to return it to its safe house location.

Blame It on the Wiring

Ladies, are you trying to lose weight or just maintain? Forget mind over matter, forget "move more, eat less", forget lap band. What you really need is a new brain--preferably a man's brain. According to a recent study reported in the Tuft's University Health Letter, the part of the woman's brain that sends hunger signals is much more active than a man's. The study asked a group of men and women to fast for 24 hours before they were presented with food. Both groups both used similar behavior modification techniques to avoid eating. Both men and women reported that they were not hungry, however, the brain scans of the women showed that their brain activity in the "hunger" areas was significantly higher than the men's. The theory is that our brains just haven't evolved as quickly as our culture. For thousands of years, women have traditionally been the ones to nourish the children (think breastfeeding, cooking, gathering, etc) and so our brains were programmed to eat whenever food was available. As a side note, Carson was up 3 times last night to complain that he was so hungry that he couldn't sleep. He had a tournament today and was cutting weight (he had to lose 1 1/2 pounds--not very easy when you don't have any body fat). I guess I'm curious what this says about his brain? Carson says this study does NOT at all relate to teen-agers because they are growing so fast and so much.

Seriously So, So Hungry

Last spring when I was training for a half-marathon my gallbladder decided to give out. I may have been hungry, but I felt so crappy every time I ate that I really tried not to eat. Unfortunately, that caused a lot of grumpiness (OK, extreme irritability) and tiredness. David even suggested that I never train for a half-marathon again. Well I showed him. I had that toxic organ removed and I feel like a brand new person. This time training for the half-marathon that I am running in 5 weeks has been so much better EXCEPT that I am hungry ALL.THE.TIME. Seriously. Here is a sampling of what I have eaten today: Breakfast: CocoaKrispies with 1 c skim milk and 6 or 7 cashews Snack: 10 cashews and 3 Whopper eggs (I don't even like whoppers, but I was hungry, they were there, and I did eat) Lunch: Chicken tortilla cassarole (had creamed corn, tomatoes, and chicken) Snack: 1/3 c dry oatmeal with small carton of Activa light yogurt Dinner: 1/3 c BBQ pork, 1/2 c green beans, 1 small baked potato with sour cream and butter And just for my kidneys' sake (and to ease my dad's worry--he's a urologist and I am a known chronic kidney stone former) 64 oz of water. Yes, I know today's fare was woefully lacking in fruit. But I am working on the "balanced meals over the course of the week approach". Hey the USDA thinks this is a good approach for the school nutrition programs, so I figure it will work for me. I do usually do a little better in the fruit and veggie department but this is the end of the 2 week menu cycle so our produce drawer is a little low. I would say that this sampling is pretty typical of the amount of food I am eating nowadays. The only difference is that on the day after a long run, I might eat double. For example, this last Sunday was the day after my 11 mile run. We had 2 Easter dinners. The first was at 1 p.m. with ham, potatoes, and asparagus. We then ate our 2nd meal at 6 p.m. That meal included roasted chicken, potatoes, asparagus, greek olives and feta cheese along with a delicious flourless chocolate torte. If I hadn't had a long run the day before there is no way I would have been hungry at 6 p.m. Man I wonder how much I would be eating if I were training for a full marathon or IronMan? Let me think...OK just kidding, Dad. I promised I wouldn't train for anything longer than a 1/2 due to my kidneys so you can stop worrying.

They're Back

There are certain sounds that I anxiously wait to hear all winter long, because to me these sounds signal that warm weather is just around the corner. The first is the birds singing in the morning. All through the dark morning hours of winter I listen for the firsts sounds of spring--the return of the robins and their morning songs. I get so excited when I head out in the morning and I can hear the birds singing. Unfortunately, the robins are a little overzealous in their return and sometimes they get caught in late winter snow. I always feel so bad for the little birds when that happens. But in spite of the snow, the birds sing away, almost as if they, too, are begging the sun to come out and warm the earth. The next sound I listen for is the familar "on your left" shouted by bicyclists and faster runners. This yell signals that the trails that have been almost empty are now starting to fill. Now for some, this announcement is frustrating because they know that they will now have to share the trails. But I find it yet another sign that warmer weather is coming. But the sound that I enjoy the most, and wait for the longest before its return, is the chorus of ribbitting that emanates from the pond behind my house. I wait and wait all winter for this glorious sound. The frog choir with its cacophany of croaking is such a delight that I will often sleep with the window cracked just so I can hear them. Unlike the birds and the cyclists, the frogs seem to have a 6th sense about when the warm weather will be here to stay for awhile. I trust the frogs and that I why I get so excited when I hear them. Last night, the frogs were back and I slept with the window cracked open.

A Tribute to Graham's Smokin' Pepper

Last night, April 5th, Graham's Smokin' Pepper went to the great sagebrush prairie in the sky.

In her final moments, she was surrounded by the family that loved her so very much.

Pepper joined our family on December 17, 1996. She was just as chubby a puppy as Carson was a chubby baby--he was 4 months old when we brought Pepper home. By the end of that Christmas season, the bottom 3 feet of our Christmas tree was bare. By the end of the 2nd Christmas season, it was safe to decorate the bottom of the tree as long as there was no hint of food on the ornament--no candy cane reindeer, no noodle angels, no popcorn garlands--because Pepper had a strongly developed sense of Lab trait "must eat everything". Her nose, and propensity to eat everything, often got her in trouble, but sure provided us with a lot of stories to tell and re-tell.

Pepper also was a mighty fine bird-dog. She loved to retrieve from the moment we brought her home. She gave it her all everytime we took her out. She would bust through anything--barbed wire, blackberry brambles, cattails--to get at those wily rooster birds. We all had a chance to watch her hunt and we were always amazed at her tenacity out in the field. It was a sad day when we couldn't take her out hunting anymore. On those days, she would lay around the house and during her naps we swear she was dreaming about chasing pheasants and quail because her feet would look like they were running and her nose was twitching.

For as wonderful as a bird-dog she was, she was even a better family dog. She was best friends to us all. Because she came home when Carson was only 4 months old, she had to quickly develop the Lab quality of quiet endurance and long-suffering. She was so patient with little kids. She would let them crawl on her, bite her, pull her ears and tail and all she would do is look up at us with those big, puppy-dog eyes as if to say "Really? Can't you do anything about these kids?" Sometimes when she had enough, she would let the kids have it--a good facewashing that is. Pepper had the biggest, slobberiest tongue of any dog I know. She was very free with her kisses, much to the dismay of some of our brothers and sisters when their children were involved.

We love you, Pepper and we will sure miss you. Thanks for all of the wonderful memories.