True, embellished and fictional stories for your amusertainment

Posts tagged ‘exercise’

Painting Supplies

I’ve spent the last couple of weeks painting the interior of my home. It was a good exercise on several levels. First, it’s good exercise. Second, it reminded me why I don’t like to paint. Third, painting is like cooking but, unlike cooking, I can do it. I feel good about this even though painting is not my favorite thing to do.

Because I’ve painted before, I know the supplies that are needed. However, since it’s been a long time, I checked the instructions to make sure I had everything. Instructions are conveniently located on the paint stir stick. Initially, that seems like a good idea until you use the stick and can no longer see what’s written on it. Wisely, I checked the list before stirring.

List of painting supplies on the stir stick readable only until you use the stick to stir the paint

List of painting supplies on the stir stick readable only until you use the stick to stir the paint

Everything made sense except paint kits so I looked them up online. I would have hated to start painting only to find I was missing necessary supplies. Here’s what I found.

This is a paint kit

This is a paint kit

Since this didn’t seem essential to my task, I ignored it. As if the paint kit wasn’t strange enough, I noticed one crucial item missing from the list – a paint can opener. Fortunately, I had one of these so I was able to paint.

You can't paint unless you can open the can

You can’t paint unless you can open the can

If I’m being totally honest, I have to admit there’s one more supply I wish I’d had – a professional to do the work! Oh well, the results were worth the pain.

May the farce be with you!

Your IFF,

Pam

The Turkey Wreath

This week in my exercise class, Shelly, our instructor, talked about ideas for using left-over turkey; an ideal topic with Thanksgiving only a few days away. She said she had recently tried something new that was wildly successful – a turkey wreath.

When I heard this I couldn’t imagine how a turkey wreath would be made or why anyone would want to do something so stupid. Deep in thought, I missed dance steps and tripped over my own feet.

  • Would the entire wreath be made of turkey or would it be tied onto a green wreath?
  • What parts would you use? Would they be whole, sliced or chopped?
  • How would you secure the turkey?
  • How would you keep it fresh?
  • Would you garnish it with potatoes and cranberries to give it some color?
  • Where would you hang it?
  • How could anything so bizarre be a success?

As I left my thoughts and returned to class, Shelly said the turkey wreath not only looked good but was delicious, too. That’s when I realized she created a food dish rather than a household decoration. Whew – disaster diverted.

I’m going to hang my holiday wreath in a few days but there won’t be any turkey on it.

May the farce be with you!

Your IFF,

Pam

The perfect turkey wreath

The perfect turkey wreath

 

 

 

It’s The Little Things

Sometimes the smallest things can make us happy. One of my little things is being able to go to an exercise class every morning. Dancing and interacting with nice people is certainly a draw, but in my class there’s more.

Several babies come to our class. They don’t teach or participate, but they are certainly entertaining. Apparently we’ve been entertaining them as well.

For example, 18-month old Molly has learned a great deal from her Gramma and the rest of the class. While visiting her other grandmother, Molly pulled a mat from an end table. She then laid on her back on the mat, bent her knees and moved them from side to side – exactly like we do in class.

A younger participant, Lilly, started attending class with her mother, the teacher, when she was still in the womb. At her 6-month check-up, her doctor pointed out that Lilly was doing crunches. Again, we’ve had a positive influence on a young mind.

For quite some time, Shelly, our instructor, has been wearing exercise pants with a bright, wild pattern every Friday. She’s also been encouraging the students to buy a pair of “happy pants” or party pants, Friday pants, weekend pants. She assures us that we will never regret buying this outlandish attire. Her prodding finally paid off when the majority of the class showed up in happy pants. Not surprisingly, it made us all happy. Like I said, it’s the little things.

May the farce be with you!

Your IFF,

Pam

One big happy pants family

One big happy pants family

Queen Thut

Shopping for jeans is a horrific experience, second only to trying on bathing suits.

In order to improve the experience, I have fun with it. My latest ploy is to check out my butt in the mirror and loudly declare that it might be dangerous to buy these jeans because they make my butt look like JLo’s.

This never fails to elicit laughter from clerks and customers – anyone within earshot. I especially make a big deal about jeans that have bling on the butt because, you know, the butt looks bigger yet.

The reason my JLo comments are out of place is because I have a thutt – a butt that’s so flat it blends into my thighs.

I have junk in my trunk. The only problem – my trunk’s in a Smart Car.

I regularly exercise and one of the body parts we focus on is the rear end, bumper, badonkadonk, badinkadink, booty, tushy, tuckus, bum, money maker, birthday cake. Shelly, my instructor, always asks what kind of cakes we make in our bakery. The answer – round!

Since I’ve been exercising for several years now, it makes sense that my thutt would round out at least a little. Frankly, I’m of the opinion that it has. I think at least once or twice someone’s briefly had a passing thought that maybe I look slightly like JLo in the backside.

On second thutt, maybe not.

May the farce be with you!

Your IFF,

Pam

I've got the Fiat version of JLo's Bumper

I’ve got the Fiat version of JLo’s Bumper

Moments In Time

This week has been filled with moments – those that make an impression, are memorable. Three stood out.

First, I was talking to Stephen about staying positive once you’ve reached an age where more of life is behind you than ahead.

Living in the present is one option. Another is to look forward to what comes next – something I thought was an epiphany that could change the world.

Stephen astutely pointed out that religion’s had this market cornered for centuries. Dang!

The second moment occurred in my exercise class relating to a promotion allowing members to bring a guest for free.

Our instructor encouraged us to bring a friend or boyfriend. I jokingly said that I’d bring my boyfriend if she promised not to tell my husband. The next day, a fellow student asked me if I really had a boyfriend and a husband.

I learned you have to be careful what you say. If I start hearing rumors about me, I’ll only have myself to blame.

Finally, later in the week as Stephen was leaving for work, I ran out to get the newspaper. As I turned to come back to the house, Stephen was waiting for me with open arms. I ran to him and was rewarded with a bear hug.

Then I realized I should have run in slow motion. So I ran back to the curb and repeated my actions in slo-mo. I’m sure our neighbors got a good laugh, we sure did.

These moments just happened but we also have the opportunity to create moments of our own. I know just what to do.

I’ll bring Stephen to my exercise class and tell everyone that he’s my boyfriend.

May the farce be with you!

Your IFF,

Pam

DSCF4915

Stephen in slo-mo

Fractured Cliché #39

The other day my exercise class was full of new people. Someone was standing where Nancy normally stands, so she was forced to move into a new spot in front of me.

Shelly, our instructor, was telling stories. (Somehow she’s able to lead the class, breathe and talk all at the same time. It’s amazing!) One of her quips finished with a quote from Albert Einstein:

What’s the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. (Correct Cliché)

Always looking for blog fodder, I started laughing to myself because I knew she’d gotten it wrong. She should have said:

What’s the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting the same results. (Fractured Cliché)

It wasn’t until I got home to write down my observation that I realized I was the crazy one.

I’m sure it was Nancy’s fault for standing in the wrong spot. I’m used to things being the same. She messed me up by doing something different.

May the farce be with you!

Your IFF,

Pam

Einstein

Ein Stein

Out, Out (of my) Damn Spot

Every time I go to exercise class I stand in the same place. I’m so accustomed to “my spot” that when I have to stand elsewhere I trip over my own feet.

Most people have a tendency to pick a spot and stay with it. When I worked in corporate America, I went through a phase where I would arrive to meetings early for the sole purpose of disrupting the seating arrangement. The reactions of those whose chairs I appropriated ranged from shock to indignation but no one ever said anything directly to me. Over time, others arrived early to get their seat before I could.

My experience was quite different after starting a new job. I went with my boss to her staff meeting and sat next to her. Jerry entered, abruptly turned around, left the room and reentered through a second door, sitting alone at the opposite end of a long table.

A few minutes after the meeting began, Elaine, who was sitting next to me, handed me a note that said I was sitting in Jerry’s seat. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with the information. Should I disrupt the meeting and move or remain in the coveted chair? I decided to stay where I was. The next meeting I purposefully arrived late to make sure I didn’t take anyone’s seat and find out which one was mine.

I wish things were that easy in the exercise class. Friends and I have contemplated setting up orange cones to reserve our spots or placing police tape around the area where we normally stand but that would interfere with the classes we don’t attend. I think the next time someone’s standing in my place, I’ll just pretend they aren’t there and take my spot anyway. I’ll let you know if it works.

May the farce be with you!

Your IFF,

Pam

Every time I turn around, someone’s in my spot

They even steal spots from each other

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