Book Review: Stress Less, or Walking the Walk is Hard

If you have been reading this blog for, well, any amount of time, you will probably be aware that I am a person who really strives to live a life of calmness and mindfulness. It doesn’t always work that way, of course, but life is a journey and we are all works in progress, tomorrow is fresh new page in our own personal Book of Life, etcetera, etcetera.

The other thing you may know about me is that I love books and reading, and I love my friends, and sometimes those two things overlap in the Venn Diagram of Nicole’s Life. My friend Kate Hanley wrote a book called Stress Less, and when I heard that I could get a free copy in exchange for a blog review, well, I jumped at the chance. Stressing less is my jam! Reading books my friends write is also my jam! This is a win-win situation.

Here’s the part where I disclose, in case you were unable to read the above paragraph, that I received a free copy of Stress Less by Kate Hanley from the good people at Simon and Schuster. I was not compensated in any other way, all views are my own, etcetera, etcetera again.

Stress Less is a lovely little book with 100 mindfulness exercises for calmness and clarity, which means that it is not a “chapter book,” as I would say to my kids. It’s more of a collection of daily meditations, each including an inspirational quote from everyone from the Dalai Lama to Dolly Parton. Don’t you just love an eclectic cast of characters? I sure do. The mindfulness exercises are easy to incorporate into everyday life, and I have introduced the book to my children as well. In particular, I brought their attention to Mindfulness Exercise #13, in which we learn to Listen Better. Most of the time when we are talking to someone else, Kate writes, we’re not truly hearing what they’re saying. Rather, we’re thinking about what we’ll say in response, or wondering when they’ll stop talking so we can speak. Truer words were never spoken, and I brought this up to the kids to say that not only could THEY work on this, but I really should as well. We all could.

So yes, I endeavor to live a life of mindfulness, but in that journey there are bumps on the road. Walking the walk is not always easy, as I will illustrate in the following anecdote.

Last week I had a phone call from a delivery company, to inform me that the stand-up paddleboards (yay!) we had ordered would be delivered the following day, between 1:00 and 5:00. The driver would call me one hour prior to delivering the giant packages. Great, I said, but I will not be home until 1:30 because I am teaching a class. I also will not be able to answer the phone if the driver calls prior to that, because it’s a yoga class and my phone will be off.

No problem, the lady on the phone assured me that she would make a note of it and the driver would certainly be able to accommodate. NO PROBLEM AT ALL.

You see where I’m going with this.

The following day I finished my class, and was on my way home when the Bluetooth rang. It was, for those wondering, 1:25. The man on the other end was very, very angry with me. He asked if I would be home anytime soon for this delivery, and when I said I was about five minutes away, he informed me that he had already been waiting for twenty minutes and he couldn’t wait all goddamn day.

Well, I have to say I was pretty taken aback. I said I would be home in five minutes, and if he couldn’t wait, should we reschedule? I was flustered for sure, having come from the warm, lovely studio with a warm, lovely post-yoga feeling, and being, as I say to my children, Spoken To Sharply.

He said he’d call the dispatcher and then figure out what to do but in the meantime he’d called SEVERAL TIMES AND TEXTED and I had ignored all of those.

Of course I hit a few lights when I drove home, so I ended up pulling in front of my house at 1:32. A young man jumped from the delivery truck, smiling at me in a nervous kind of way. He asked if I could go open the garage so he could bring in the stuff, and of course I agreed.

I had a chance to peek at my phone as I was going to the garage, and sure enough, there was one phone call at 12:20 – with no voice message – and one text, at 1:18, reading that Steve had just pulled up to my house and had a delivery for me. 1:18, or seven minutes prior to the angry phone call. Not what I would classify as SEVERAL TIMES but we all have different standards, I guess.

I spoke with the smiling young man about where to put the packages, when Steve got out of the truck, looking at me like I was, if not the worst person in the world, then at least in the top ten. He asked me What I Had Said To Dispatch, and I explained, saying that dispatch had said she would put a note on my file. Steve said angrily that the Delivery Time is Between One and Five, and my schedule wasn’t His Problem, and meanwhile, I needed to not only sign for the packages, but also sign a form that said he had been waiting for me. He said, Someone has to pay for this! As far as the company is concerned, I haven’t been doing anything for all this time!

When I told my husband this part of the story, he asked in a worried sort of way if I had paid him anything. I had not. In fact, at this point I was so taken aback all I could do was stare at him and apologize for inconveniencing him.

But here’s the interesting part: the piece of paper he asked me to sign had written on it, in black Sharpie, my name and the words, Yoga Teacher will be home by 1:30 and will not be able to answer the phone before that time. It was very clear and bold. The other thing that was written on it was Steve’s scrawl that said Arrived 1:15, Customer Delivery at 1:45. 

Did I mention the first text was at 1:18 and by the time they had driven off – everything delivered and they were GONE – it was 1:37?

So here was my dilemma. As I say, I try to be mindful, calm, and kind, but in the moment, I kind of wanted to tear a strip off this guy. I mean, who did he think he was? First, he was a total aggressive jerk from the get-go. Second, he was asking me to sign something that wasn’t even true. Third, all the information was RIGHT THERE and he ignored it and then became irate with me! As I looked at the piece of paper, I wondered what to do.

My first instinct was to point out the error in the time, and snap at him, because at this point I had had enough. But I took a deep breath and remembered Mindfulness Exercise #10: Become Curious, Not Furious.

What if this has nothing to do with me?

In the few, probably very uncomfortable seconds in which I contemplated my reaction options, I tried to step into Steve’s place. Here was a guy, probably early sixties, driving a truck and delivering things to someone who appeared to be unconcerned with this schedule. Maybe the job really sucked, maybe he’d been doing this his whole life and was close to retirement, maybe he couldn’t retire. Maybe he was getting a divorce or his wife was sick or his kid was a junkie, I don’t know. I didn’t know one thing about him except that my not being home at 1:18 pushed him over the edge. Given the look on his young assistant’s face, this behaviour was obviously not out of the ordinary. If I refused to sign the sheet, or made a big deal about it, it would benefit me not at all but it would probably ruin his entire day, and that of his assistant’s.

In the grand scheme of things, did it really matter?

So I signed it. I looked him right in the eyes and said I am so sorry to have inconvenienced you. I hope you have a good weekend, now.

He grunted and grabbed the sheet away, getting back into his truck.

The young assistant smiled at me and wished me a good weekend, and although the entire exchange was less than satisfactory, I felt – and still feel – that becoming curious, not furious, was the best course of action. It de-escalated the situation, it allowed me to feel like I took the high road, and hopefully it made things easier for Steve and his assistant. I hope he really did have a good weekend, although I’m guessing he probably didn’t. But I did my best.

The Ship Is Not Sinking

Yesterday my yoga friend mentioned this quote in one of her classes:

Ships don’t sink because of the water around them; they sink because of the water that gets in them.

This felt to me like the most profound and apt metaphor for life. This is my new mantra, replacing In The Depth of Winter I Found Within Myself An Invincible Summer, and Serenity Now.

As a sidebar, it is again the depth of winter since it apparently is never going to stop snowing. Well, it’s not currently snowing, but intermittent snowstorms are expected all week, along with freezing temperatures and high winds. Find The Invincible Summer.

They sink because of the water that gets in them, I said to myself several times yesterday as I spent ninety minutes with the internet service provider and then with the router support centre, trying to fix my desktop computer and the internet connection in our house, trying not to panic as I thought of the unfiled tax returns on said desktop. It did, eventually, get fixed and then I FIXED IT AGAIN, MYSELF after a crash immediately following hanging up with router support. Am I an IT person now? I might be.

All is well and my sanity is still intact, the water didn’t get inside my ship. I kept imagining waves of increasing violence slapping up against the starboard bow, as I breathed deeply and tried to calmly describe to the person on the other end of the phone that no, it says I have internet access but I do not actually have internet access. Yes, I did unplug it and then plugged it back in. No, it is still not working. 

After spending the entire afternoon on this issue, I sprinted through a quick cardio workout before grabbing the dog and the leash and heading out to meet Jake on his walk home from school. I was still wearing my workout clothes – athleisure, if you will – and my little ankle socks as I slipped on my waterproof boots, for the slushy walk. I wasn’t more than five steps out of the house before my sock started to slip off my foot, reminding me of that meme that says I Walk Around Looking Like I Have It All Together And Everything’s Fine But Deep Down, Inside My Shoe, My Sock Is Slipping Off.

I kept soldiering on, with my sock half off. The waves are slapping the port bow. 

I have been very much looking forward to my hair appointment, for good reason: I don’t know if my hair is in a super-fast-growth-stage or if I’m just getting more and more grey, but my roots are in an Emergency Situation. This, coupled with the Extremely Dry Ends and Orange Straw Hair has made me eagerly anticipate my rendez-vous with my Hair Therapist. I had written down in my agenda – I use a paper agenda and calendar because I’m an Old Fashioned Girl – that the appointment was for today, at one o’clock.

This morning I was in the shower, not washing my hair, when I thought, Hmm, it’s strange I didn’t get a confirmation phone call. I was putting on my makeup, with my unwashed hair in a bun, and I thought, Hmm, it’s strange I made the appointment for a Tuesday. I always try to book for Wednesdays. Do I even need to say the punchline? I found the little card that I write the appointments down on, that I keep in my wallet, and it said, very clearly, April 26 1:00. I had written it down incorrectly. I had written it down incorrectly and now I was forced to go about my day with dirty hair for no reason.

The truth is that having an appointment today would have been a bit inconvenient; traffic was a snarl all day what with the incessant snow storms, and I was busy all morning which meant I would be out of the house all day, which isn’t great for Barkley, and also Mark had – strangely – an early dismissal day and would be home all afternoon. All signs point to Wednesday Is The Superior Day For A Hair Appointment and yet, I have felt off all day. I am trying to embrace the admittedly much happier situation, but I still feel all weird and unmoored, not unlike a ship out to sea on a stormy day. BUT THE GODDAMN WATER IS NOT GOING TO GET IN.

Clearly, my mental flexibility is a work in progress.

42: The Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe, and Everything.

42 things I’ve learned in 42 years:

  1. Karma always works, for better or for worse.
  2. A good mascara and the right shade of lip gloss can make you feel like a star, even when you feel like a burned-out black hole.
  3. Mom was right, my face did freeze like that.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                
  4. There is only one cure for Bitchy Resting Face, and that is a smile.
  5. When you keep a smile on your face to keep the BRF at bay, people will talk to you a lot.
  6. It’s fun to flirt with elderly men at the grocery store; it makes me feel young.
  7. Bloom where you’re planted.
  8. Ketchup chips may taste amazing, but they make me feel the opposite of amazing.
  9. The best way to keep from eating junk is to only buy healthy food.
  10. Spinach smoothies keep energy up even when wake-up time is 4:30 am.
  11. It turns out that that peri-menopausal thing that wakes you up at night is handy for us super early risers.
  12. Unfortunately it also means that I am in a coma by 9 pm.
  13. I do not like the nightlife, but I do like to boogie.
  14. Foregoing lots of fun things and paying off debts early is the best for long-term financial stability.
  15. Money spent on travel is better than money spent on stuff.
  16. If you have friends that you travel with and still love them after traveling, cherish them, because they are the best.
  17. Instead of saying “I don’t have time to do x,” try saying “X is not a priority to me.” If that doesn’t sit well, change things. “Bringing a dish to the potluck is not a priority” has a different ring to it than “Keeping up with my friendships/ health/ marriage/ kids is not a priority.”
  18. Priorities change, embrace it.
  19. There is zero value in arguing with people on the internet.
  20. I miss the days when no one knew the way other people voted, and it was considered impolite conversation.
  21. It’s often better to be kind than to be right.
  22. When people lash out at you, it might have nothing to do with you. It might be that they are having a bad day or have issues that have nothing to do with you.
  23. On the other hand, sometimes it does have to do with you – own it and fix it.
  24. Cake is one of life’s great joys.                                                                                                                                                     
  25. If you are happy, your happiness radiates around you.
  26. Wine is divine.
  27. Whenever Leonard Skynyrd says to turn it up, I do.
  28. A good eye cream is worth the money.
  29. My children bring me more joy than I ever thought possible.
  30. So does my husband.
  31. Despite what I thought for the majority of my life, it’s really easy to make your own bread.
  32. Ditto with jam.
  33. It turns out that cardiovascular exercise is really important.
  34. A walk with Barkley can turn the day around.
  35. You can decide your destiny, and you can change when things change.
  36. There are few things more wonderful than shopping for plants.
  37. Things usually work out in the end, even if they are uncomfortable or painful in the moment.
  38. Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is sit down and put your feet up.                                                       
  39. Yoga is magic.
  40. So is kindness.
  41. Friends are the family you choose; surround yourself with good people.
  42. If the tiara fits, wear it.

Indoor Versus Outdoor Egg Hunts

I know you were all on the edge of your seat, wondering how those fake eggs worked out, in terms of colouring. I think they turned out very well:

They were a bit messier than working with traditional put-the-colour-tablet-in-the-cup-of-water-and-dip-the-egg-in variety, since there were plastic bags and liquid dye involved, but nothing has been permanently stained, and it was pretty fun, so I’ll call that a win.

Saturday night we went to our friends’ house, and as we were driving there we noticed little flurries in the air; by the time we left it was full-on snowing. We woke up Easter morning to this, which, although it isn’t unusual, it is still a bit of a downer:

It’s funny; when I was growing up our Easter egg hunts were always indoors. My husband, who did not grow up in this godforsaken frozen hellhole, had never even heard of indoor egg hunts. Since having kids we meld traditions by having a chocolate egg hunt, complete with rhyming couplet clues for a treasure hunt, which I take all the credit for because poetry is hard, people, indoors. We then hide the eggs for the kids to find outdoors, and then they hide them for us. We had to wait until late afternoon when the snow was 98% melted in order to do that this year, but it was still fun.

This is where having fake eggs really came in handy. We started with 24, but by the time my husband and I did the hunt there were only 23. The kids couldn’t remember where the last one was hidden and it remains a mystery to this moment. Had these been real eggs, I would be having a nervous breakdown at the thought of the dog finding it and suffering the inevitable consequences. As it is, he could care less about dyed compressed paper.

I hope you had a lovely long weekend. Mine seemed to have inordinate amounts of time spent at appointments and doing taxes, both equally lovely tasks. Well, and cooking a ton, and not just for Easter dinner. For reasons I don’t understand, I felt the need to make jam on Friday, after spending two hours at the optometrist’s office with the boys. There’s probably some kind of Freudian connection here but I can’t seem to make it at the moment.

Today the orthodontist office was open, so I had optimistically booked an appointment, thinking how smart I was to book on a no-school day. You already know the punchline to this: there were a lot of Smart People who had booked their kids in there today. Sigh.

Well, it’s all done now, and I have much more to share with you – including the best-ever carrot cake recipe, which I had made on Sunday in honour of the Easter Bunny. But, with the terribly glamorous life I lead, I have a pile of laundry to fold, dinner to make, and a Roomba filter to empty. So I will leave you with that cliffhanger – next time! xo

 

Fun Alternative To Easter Eggs (“Dairy Eggs?”)

It’s not like I didn’t realize that Easter was this weekend, but I’ve been putting off any preparations for it. We were out of the country for Easter last year, and so missed our traditional egg hunt/ chocolate feast. Since we don’t take the children to church and are significantly – how shall I say this – lapsed Lutherans/ Catholics, Easter feels less like a big religious celebration and more of a time just to enjoy the more secular enjoyments that come with it.

I didn’t think the kids would miss our little traditions last year, but they really did. For several years now I’ve copied my friend Jen’s idea (HI JEN) of having a treasure hunt for chocolate eggs: I write little clues on a piece of paper and the kids have to decipher the clues to find the treats. It’s quite hilarious and often indicative that the kids have very little idea where I keep my makeup, for example. “Mom uses this every day to make herself prettier!” – this caused much confusion around hair dryers and coconut oil.

The kids still like to colour Easter eggs, and then hide them for my husband and I to find in the backyard, as a reverse Easter Bunny thing. Some years have been snowier than others, which makes things interesting. Traditionally we’ve used hard boiled eggs for this hunt, but I don’t like it. There are a few reasons: factory egg farming is gross and I don’t want to support it, yet I also don’t want to spend a lot of money for fancy organic free-range eggs that are just going to go to waste. And no, please don’t give me your ideas about what to do with hard boiled eggs, since my husband is the only one who will eat them and I feel like it’s not a good idea for him to a) eat a dozen or more hard boiled eggs, b) eat a dozen or more hard boiled eggs that have been coloured with what is probably something toxic at the worst and kind of icky at the best. I also worry that Barkley is going to find and eat one of those hard boiled eggs and we would all suffer as a result.

Cute, but kind of stinky.

I also don’t like to use those plastic colourful eggs, filled with non-chocolate treats. I don’t like having that much plastic end up in the landfill, and also the kids are way too old for stickers and such that could be contained in such eggs.

But then this morning I was in Wal-Mart, buying chocolate eggs and also dish soap and sink cleaner, and I saw this:

Hot damn. 100% recyclable, colour-able eggs. Finally, someone thought of it! Although, I’m not sure what they mean by “dairy eggs” and slightly alarmed that “no cooking required” needs to be clarified on the package. Are people really picking up these 100% recyclable pretend eggs and thinking that they are EDIBLE? Well, I’m going to let that slide. Ethical dilemma solved!

Accomplishing Things and Reading Motivational Quotes

You guys, the Mayday tree is budding, the tulips are up, all sorts of hardy plants – yarrow, daylilies, ornamental sage – are making their appearance in my backyard, and today it RAINED. Do you know how rare it is to get rain in Calgary in April? Usually it’s snow. I feel like I’m in some exciting new world where winter doesn’t last eight months.

Now that I’ve said that, it will probably snow tomorrow.

Similarly, I realized that it has been over a year since I was last ill. I made it through the entire winter – including close-quartered yoga teacher training when a number of my fellow students were hacking up lungs and feverish – without getting sick. I thought, perhaps I should write a post about that, but then decided that was hubris, and in doing so I was guaranteeing I would be immediately struck down with the bubonic plague. So this brief mention is all you, dear reader, will have to endure. In any case, my “stay healthy” regimen consists mainly of daily smoothies containing 8-10 cups of spinach, washing my hands like a surgeon, never directly touching doorknobs, and having children who are no longer mobile petrie dishes.

I currently have five library books piled up on my side table; four of them came in within two days of each other, and the other one was a title I picked up on a whim, so I’ve been reading a lot. I finished What Alice Forgot, and while it wasn’t my favourite by that author, it was certainly thought-provoking. The premise is a woman falls and hits her head and is suddenly missing the past ten years of her life; she doesn’t remember her children, her friends, her impending divorce.

If you woke up tomorrow with no memory, none whatsoever, of the past ten years, and had to just reintegrate into your regular life, can you imagine what that would be like? Imagine if you still thought you were the same person you were in 2007. It boggles the mind. I had only just started practicing yoga in 2007, I wasn’t 100% vegetarian, I didn’t have a blog, and I looked a lot like this:

Well, I FELT like that, anyway, since I hadn’t slept through the night since 2003, and by that point I was pretty tired. I really looked like this:

Whatever happened to that denim jacket? I guess I donated it; I barely remember it.

Anyway, it’s an interesting thing to think about, if you just erased the past ten years. All the friends that you would have made in the past ten years, you’d have no memory of. The children’s school years, family dramas, deaths, home renovations, etc., all of those would be GONE. My god, I wouldn’t even remember Barkley. I would just suddenly be thrust into a home with a super cute fluffy dog who insistently nudges me when he wants to be petted, and begs for carrot ends.

Well. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.

It’s been a real Get It Done week in the Boyhouse. I don’t know if it’s post-vacation energy or the fact that I’m reading motivational quotes, but I have been Down To Business around here. You know those little jobs that take hardly any time, but are annoying and you hate them? I’ve been doing all those jobs! And I have to say, it is incredibly Empowering (motivational quote-inspired) because damn, now those stupid little things are Done. Going through the pile of mail and filing things and recycling others, picking up boring items at Walmart, vacuuming the stairs. That kind of thing. I feel a vast, and probably greatly overstated, measure of accomplishment in doing those little chores.

I will confess to one of the stupidest jobs that I always put off; I hesitate to even call it a “job” because really, it’s almost nothing. I don’t think this can even qualify as a job, but here goes: Sunday nights I make a big dinner, and usually there is gravy. My gravy boat resides in the cupboard above the fridge, and every Sunday night after the dishes are done, I just let the gravy boat sit on the counter for a day or two before I put it back, because it seems like too much work after all that cooking. Because pulling a chair two feet and then getting on the chair and putting the gravy boat back in the cupboard is just a Bridge Too Far. But having the gravy boat on the counter is incredibly annoying to me, and I keep thinking to myself, all Monday and Tuesday, I need to put the gravy boat away, I need to put the gravy boat away, I need to put the gravy boat away, before I finally do it.

This is a long and boring way to say that last Sunday I just PUT THE GODDAMN GRAVY BOAT AWAY ON SUNDAY NIGHT and honestly, it was – is Life-Changing too dramatic? – Life-Changing. I mean, I have to do it anyway. It takes literally thirty seconds. Why do I aggravate myself by not just doing it? This thought spiraled into other areas in my life. Why put off something that can be done right now, and get it off the Giant List of Things To Do? Why have something as stupid as a gravy boat hanging over me? FREEDOM.

So, I urge you, dear reader: go DO IT. Do whatever it is hanging over your head. Do the thing on your to-do list that will take no time but you don’t want to do it. Make the phone call. Schedule the appointment. Just Do It And Then It Will Be Done, is my new motto. It is incredibly Freeing, I tell you.

Just in case you’re wondering, no, no one else in my house will put away the gravy boat because I have somehow created a Reign of Terror around putting things away incorrectly in the kitchen. I know! I need to figure out how to rectify this issue but in the meantime, Gravy Boat Serenity rests on my shoulders.

Spring Break in Mexico! Busting Loose!

Hi! Happy April! Can you even believe it?

We spent a week of Spring Break in an all-inclusive in Mexico, and now I am completely spoiled. The whole trip was perfection; we went with another family and all eight of us get along like a house on fire, so much fun was had by all. The weather was perfect, the resort was perfect, everything was perfect.

This made the entry back to real life kind of rough: I had immediately become accustomed to not cooking, and having someone come by with a fresh drink every time mine was empty. I mean, my god, it is 4:53 as I write this and not one mango margarita have I consumed. One week ago, I would have had several by this hour in the day.

But one cannot be on vacation all the time, or one would not appreciate all the glories of sunshine and ocean breezes, am I right? And so today was the first day the kids were back to school, husband was back to work, and regular routine resumed. Which is not to say the past four days after our return were leisurely and relaxed; mostly I did load after load of laundry, grocery shopped, finished deadlines, and wistfully remembered, as if from a dream, this view:

Sigh.

What is it with post-vacation laundry? Mine was a dire situation, and I am one of those people who MUST unpack almost immediately upon walking in the door. My husband had to restrain me from starting the laundry at 9 pm after travelling all day. The following three days were almost entirely filled with laundry, punctuated with other drudgery, work, and – bizarrely – an orthodontist appointment. Note to self: never again book an orthodontist appointment on the day after a vacation, because you will regret it with every ounce of your being.

Anyway. The laundry is now done – as much as the Sisyphean task is ever done – I have meals planned for the week, and everything is caught up. Now for the vacation photos!

We met these guys on a bicycle excursion. One is male, one is female, and we were the happy viewers of live iguana porn. In fact, the whole iguana mating procedure seemed really bizarre, and it must have been, because the guide looked very taken aback by the strangely vigorous thrusting. “I’ve never seen THAT before,” he said, completely earnestly.

This led to a hilarious joke that we carried on throughout our trip: my friend and I were sitting by the pool, having a drink, when a large man came over, unloaded the children’s towels off of one of our pool chairs, picked it up, and carried it away. We were too taken aback – and tipsy – to say anything. The next day we saw him do the same thing to someone else. For some reason I nicknamed him Gary, and he was the unknowing butt of iguana jokes for the remainder. Hey, if you’re going to take chairs while children are swimming, then you should be laughed at, in my mango-margarita-fueled opinion.

Moving on, we also saw this guy on our bicycle excursion, and I did NOT name him Gary. He probably had a name.

The mango margaritas that started it all.

My husband and I celebrated our anniversary, on the same day that our older son – and our friends’ older son – turned 13! Serendipity.

One thing I LOVED about this resort was all the scheduled activities that anyone could join in. One thing you may or may not know about me, if someone is asking for a volunteer for an activity, I am first in line. This is how I ended up doing zumba and/ or water aerobics almost every day, and also how I somehow got involved in Crazy Games where I had to race across the pool on a floaty, while being splashed in the face and held back by one of the Entertainment Team.

I wasn’t the only adult doing zumba, by the way. The rest have been cropped out to maintain privacy. It’s really fun, once you get over the weirdness of dancing in your bikini in front of everyone around the pool.

It was fairly spring-like when we got home, the snow was melted and Jake and I even did some garden clean-up on Saturday. Sunday morning, however, looked like this.

Oh well, I guess it’s still good to be home.