Random acts of activity. . .
. . . Memorial Day-Style.
Or How to spend a Memorial Day weekend when you have absolutely nothing planned. For many it is The Official Start of Summer. Pack the car, drive Up North with a zillion other people. I love road trips but not when everyone else is on the highway, too.
The city, and MadgeWorld, was actually pleasantly abandoned this holiday weekend. With The Husband getting his money’s worth out of his annual City Golf Course pass, I had all the time in the world to do something. Or nothing.
Highlights.
- So, I tried: 8 am yoga class on Saturday. I dragged my out-of-shape-arse out of bed only to have a pregnant teacher kick my ass. I thought yoga was gentle. New Age. Complete with annoying flute music. No way. This place plays Marvin Gaye and Jack Johnson. Sweat? I was wringing wet after 20 minutes. I thought she had mistakenly turned on the heat. I almost had to call a cab to get home.
- Bra shopping. One of every woman’s most dreaded shopping excursions. Possibly the worst dressing room experience one can have. Too many choices: under wire, soft-cup, demi-cup, enhancers, minimizers, convertible straps (FIVE DIFFERENT CONFIGURATIONS!) front close, strapless, sport-style, barely there, cross-your-heart, full-coverage, extra support. I was looking for extra support. You know, the flying buttress of the bra world. Let’s just say I did purchase two items and spent less than $100.
- Home Depot for new bathroom light fixtures. Tip-of-the-day: DO NOT GO TO HOME DEPOT ON A HOLIDAY WEEKEND. Everyone who didn’t go Up North goes to Home Depot. With the entire family.
- Gardening. For all the time I spend working on the yard you would think that it would look better. With the temperature in the 90s and the humidity level of the tropics, I gave up and went to the cool climate of the basement. A dehumidifier (from Home Depot) works wonders.
- Rummaging in MadgeWorld archives. Looking through the storeroom. Again. I’m always seeking to lighten the load before we unload the house (timing TBD, kids, so don’t panic and be putting your guilt trips on me). I discovered a box of old clothing. Including a short-sleeved sweatshirt that belonged to Steve when he was in the Marine Corps (1968-69). It’s really small. But then I remembered he weighed 145 pounds when he came home.
- A trip to the cemetery. On a road trip or vacation if I am given a choice between the mall or a cemetery I’ll give up the mall anytime. We took our Mother to visit Calvary Cemetery early Monday morning. Our dad and brother are buried there.
As is my dad’s brother, Richard, who was killed in WWII. It was a lovely, breezy morning before the heat took over. Peaceful, even. Did a little clean-up around the graves. Left flowers and some rosemary for remembrance. We get an extra day off to remember the dead, so visiting the cemetery seemed the least we can do. Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine.
Listening to: God Put a Rainbow in the Sky, Mahalia Jackson
Or How to spend a Memorial Day weekend when you have absolutely nothing planned. For many it is The Official Start of Summer. Pack the car, drive Up North with a zillion other people. I love road trips but not when everyone else is on the highway, too.
The city, and MadgeWorld, was actually pleasantly abandoned this holiday weekend. With The Husband getting his money’s worth out of his annual City Golf Course pass, I had all the time in the world to do something. Or nothing.
Highlights.
- So, I tried: 8 am yoga class on Saturday. I dragged my out-of-shape-arse out of bed only to have a pregnant teacher kick my ass. I thought yoga was gentle. New Age. Complete with annoying flute music. No way. This place plays Marvin Gaye and Jack Johnson. Sweat? I was wringing wet after 20 minutes. I thought she had mistakenly turned on the heat. I almost had to call a cab to get home.
- Bra shopping. One of every woman’s most dreaded shopping excursions. Possibly the worst dressing room experience one can have. Too many choices: under wire, soft-cup, demi-cup, enhancers, minimizers, convertible straps (FIVE DIFFERENT CONFIGURATIONS!) front close, strapless, sport-style, barely there, cross-your-heart, full-coverage, extra support. I was looking for extra support. You know, the flying buttress of the bra world. Let’s just say I did purchase two items and spent less than $100.
- Home Depot for new bathroom light fixtures. Tip-of-the-day: DO NOT GO TO HOME DEPOT ON A HOLIDAY WEEKEND. Everyone who didn’t go Up North goes to Home Depot. With the entire family.
- Gardening. For all the time I spend working on the yard you would think that it would look better. With the temperature in the 90s and the humidity level of the tropics, I gave up and went to the cool climate of the basement. A dehumidifier (from Home Depot) works wonders.
- Rummaging in MadgeWorld archives. Looking through the storeroom. Again. I’m always seeking to lighten the load before we unload the house (timing TBD, kids, so don’t panic and be putting your guilt trips on me). I discovered a box of old clothing. Including a short-sleeved sweatshirt that belonged to Steve when he was in the Marine Corps (1968-69). It’s really small. But then I remembered he weighed 145 pounds when he came home.
- A trip to the cemetery. On a road trip or vacation if I am given a choice between the mall or a cemetery I’ll give up the mall anytime. We took our Mother to visit Calvary Cemetery early Monday morning. Our dad and brother are buried there. 
As is my dad’s brother, Richard, who was killed in WWII. It was a lovely, breezy morning before the heat took over. Peaceful, even. Did a little clean-up around the graves. Left flowers and some rosemary for remembrance. We get an extra day off to remember the dead, so visiting the cemetery seemed the least we can do. Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine. Listening to: God Put a Rainbow in the Sky, Mahalia Jackson
posted by MadgeMc at 5:40 PM
1 Comments:
I found that sweatshirt when I was in middle school and wore it a few times. Keep it, definitely.
And please stop with this craziness about selling the house. I don't want to bodyslam my own mother, but if you sell that house, I will be left with no choice. I might even hug you until you pee.
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