• The dream sneeze

    SeraI love the look my cat Sera gets when she’s about to sneeze.

    One minute she’ll by curled up in my lap or lying peacefully on my chest and the next, she’ll lift her head and stare into space. Her eyes seem to gaze into the past, perhaps into her kittenhood, which was terrible because before we adopted her, she was raised in a hoarder’s house with 60 other felines. Or maybe she’s staring into Morpheus’ realm, a place where all cats serve the goddess Bastet and protect sleepers against contagious diseases and evil spirits.

    Unfortunately, it’s incredibly easy to be taken by her when she looks this way — staring into the distance of memory or dream — so you’re completely unprepared when her tiny, fuzzy face explodes in a violent squeaky sneeze, spraying everything and everyone nearby with sticky, wet nose ick. How, I ask myself, could something so adorable produce something so foul?

    Time to clean my computer screen.

  • Healthiness: A work in progress

    Bottled WaterMy New Year’s resolution for 2013 was to make changes in my life that would increase healthiness. Most people make a similar resolution at the start of the year and then promptly forget about it. I have been known to fall into this category.

    This time, however, I had a plan. First I was going to spend the month of January testing my willpower by trying to exercise on a regular basis. I put away the Christmas tree and set up the treadmill. I dug out the Wii Fit, cleaned off my yoga mat and left reminders on my phone. I even rediscovered a decent pair of sneakers and vowed to actually wear them.

    Result = Very very bad. I worked out once the whole month. Bored to tears, I was unable to do it again.

    In February, I picked up the book “Drop Dead Healthy” by A.J. Jacobs. If you haven’t read it yet, you should because it’s excellent.

    Basically, Jacobs spent two years trying all sorts of diet, fitness and alternative health treatments. He adopted new habits, cleaned out the toxins in his home, ran a triathlon, set up a standing desk and visited many doctors. In the end, Jacobs encountered a lot of conflicting research, yet still managed to find things he could do every day that would make him healthier.

    I have spent much of March doing the same.

    First, I picked up a Fitbit. This tiny gadget tracks your steps, the amount of stairs you climb, how far you walk, how many calories you burn and the quality of your sleep. Sync your stats wirelessly with your phone, and you can also track your progress over time, keep a food journal, watch your weight, earn badges for achievements and record your thoughts.

    Unlike countless pedometers I’ve purchased over the years, which either broke or disappeared in the wash, the Fitbit was surprisingly effective. In the past week, I’ve started drinking more water. I’ve been eating off small plates and shrinking the size of my portions. And I’ve been taking opportunities to move when in the past I would have avoided them.

    So far this month, I’ve managed to do at least three workouts each week. And yesterday, I earned two badges, one for walking at least 5,000 steps in a single day (technically you’re supposed to do twice that; I’m working up to it) and one for climbing 10 flights of stairs. Was I happy with my progress? Sure. Did I enjoy the effort? Hardly. In fact, this was my latest Fitbit journal entry:

    Walked too far, due to a miscommunication with my husband. Grumbled the entire way, so although I got the steps, I wasn’t enjoying myself one bit. Headachy. Legs hurt. Being active blows.

    I still think people who enjoy exercise are fucking insane. And I know I’ll never join their crazy cult. But I plan to keep trying new ways to be healthy. Just because I’ve written my obit doesn’t mean I’m ready to see it published.

    As for April, my plan is to focus on lowering my stress level. Wish me luck.

  • The pros and cons of Spring

    Orange flowers from yard

    Pros:

    * Days that are warm, but not yet hot
    * The ability to open the windows and air out the house
    * Flowers blooming everywhere
    * Barbecue stands and ice cream shops reopen
    * The return of the peepers

    Cons:

    * More daylight, damn it
    * No more snow
    * No decent holidays
    * More humidity makes baking tricky
    * One season closer to the impending doom of Summer

  • In which I am strongly encouraged by a canine to take a break

    Duncan begsIn the middle of the night, my dog Duncan will request a bathroom break. Many people might get frustrated by a dog who demands to be let out at midnight or 3 a.m., but I’m awake so it’s usually not a big deal.

    Just stepping away from my desk, from my work, is a great thing. While I’m occasionally annoyed by Duncan’s timing — he doesn’t understand the concept of breaking news — I still stand up and offer my assistance because a) he needs to pee and, 2) I should stop staring at my screen for five minutes and take a break.

    Now the process of letting Duncan out is almost always an adventure. First, I have to turn on the light and check the back patio for glowing eyes. Living in the country, it’s not uncommon for there to be wildlife hanging around. In the warmer months, this is a critical move because skunks wander near our home, and the last thing I want is for the dog to encounter such an odorous creature.

    I’m also careful to check for people. Although we live on a main road, there are no sidewalks, so we don’t get a lot of foot traffic. But I imagine anyone out for a night stroll would not appreciate coming face to snout with a growling and/or barking dog, particularly one who’s trying to protect his people.

    I will let Duncan out if the cat from next door is hanging around; unlike our felines, she enjoys playing with him. I’ll also open the door if the squirrels who live in the big ugly tree are scampering about; these creatures tend to vex Duncan by not playing with him, but he always gets a kick of their encounters anyway.

    Once I’ve deemed the coast clear, I’ll open the door for him to do his business. While I wait, I take notice of the outside world. In winter months, I breathe in the clean, cold air. During warmer months, I scowl at the bugs that dance around the porch light. When there’s a full moon, I glance up into the night sky and greet her. On starry nights, I might take a moment to step outside and make a wish. In the spring, I listen to the mating call of the peepers. And on the rare occasions when it snows, I stare in wonder as the fluffy flakes fall.

    After Duncan finishes, he trots up to the door and waits patiently to be let in. He didn’t do that when he was younger, instead taking advantage of the rare moment of freedom to run around like a mad fiend or chase after something he spied in the darkness. He’s 2 years old now and much more obedient, which is why I always take care to show my appreciation for his good behavior by letting him in and giving him a treat.

    At that point, I lock up the door and return to my desk. Duncan is relieved, and I am refreshed.