One of those rare sunny winter days around here. I took the dogs over to Indian Trails Golf Course this afternoon and just kind of ambled around, basking in the snow reflections. Taylor’s been a little hobbled the past couple of days, so I think the pace suited her just fine. Trammell seemed annoyed when no one would chase him, but handled this well by destroying every twig or piece of trash he could find. In the course of my wandering (as my stomach digested the half-pound of fries from lunch) I came to the conclusion that I need a diet. Not the lose-weight kind, because that’s not at all an issue, the healthy kind. The kind where you eat more than one fruit/vegetable per week and don’t consume entire bags of chips at a time. I’ve stated this before with conviction, (such as thirty days ago) but have yet to really do something. I just don’t feel the pep that I had just a few years ago in college and I am hereby blaming that at least partially on my poor food discipline. Then again, in college I was also consistently running, lifting weights, and playing a variety of recreational sports. Sigh.
The dog just threw up on the bed and is licking the mess.
Anyway, after mulling this problem over I’ve come to one clear conclusion. Smoothies. Somehow, some way, I’m going to incorporate smoothies into my daily routine. They will be the cornerstone upon which healthy Josh is built. Everything else will fall into place once the smoothie production line is up and running. I’ll start running again. Cross train with basketball and maybe soccer. Lift three times per week. Do my daily pushups and pullups. Hit the rock climbing gym at least once a week. Meet my daily requirements of vitamins and minerals. Sleep normal human hours. It will be grand. Smoothies I salute you! So this evening I stopped by Meijer and bought bananas, kiwis, apples, and strawberries to go with the yogurt and orange juice we already have. It was delicious and all on sale. Yup, things are coming together now.
When your day’s highlights include breaking up a fight by jumping on the back of a hockey stick-wielding teenager and yanking said hockey stick away, that’s a good day. I also got to go sledding.
I find this both fascinating and scary on a number of levels. Technically, of course, chimeras have been around since we started popping pig heart valves into our chests, but this will I’m sure cross most people’s comfort threshold.
Even more official than before now. The owners have signed the purchase agreement and I think we’ve secured a loan. I say I think because Mary has been doing all the grunt work with this while I run out of the room every time the phone rings. The agreement contains a number of “subject to” clauses which I believe we’ve slowly been hammering out. I stopped by the Health Department on Monday and payed them $125 to do a vacant land evaluation. This money was promptly returned on Wednesday morning when it turned out city records showed everything we needed to know. I was told we definitely have sewer hookup which is a plus (no septic tank to deal with) and we may have city water access as well. I need to call the city about this to see how much it will cost to run a line. We are approved to dig a well if city water doesn’t work out though. It will probably be a couple weeks still until we close. Until then I have to settle for repeatedly clicking mapquest .
I’m not generally a fan of anything having to do with professional sports and their millionaire children, but that Peyton Manning Mastercard commercial cracks me up literally every time I watch it. Cut that meat! Cut that meat! That’s golden. I would like to see that thirty-second montage adapted into a feature length screen play some day. I think I would pay to watch that.
I think we’ve done a competent job of teaching Trammell and Taylor to trust in the laws of nature and their own perception of reality. I think of this now because Quacker’s the Beanie Baby Duck is sitting on top of my computer and Trammell’s been whimpering at it. I know that doesn’t make sense, but it would make sense if you were in the room. I can’t stand it when a dog is faked out with a mock throw or teased with unreachable food. When a ball is thrown it should follow a consistent path. When food is placed within snapping reach it should be eaten. My next dog will be named Newton.