Smuggling on vacation

WINNIPEG, Manitoba - I am a smuggler.  Two weeks ago, my family went to Disney World in Florida, and I brought back an illegal item.  Or at least an item you are not allowed to fly back to Canada although you can drive it across the border, according to the very informed salesperson at Disney.  I thought this explanation a bit ridiculous, so I bought the desired purchase and brought it home to Winnipeg.  I'm a bit of a worrier, so I had an elaborate excuse planned for the customs officials just in case I got caught.  It involved a lot of giggling and eye-batting.  But they never suspected.  Here is what I smuggled:

That's right, they are plumerias!  Or at least they hopefully will be when I decipher the rooting instructions and these dead sticks turn into leafing plants (year one) and beautiful flowers (year two). 

Plumeria  - commonly called Frangipani - is the flower of love.  It blooms from April through November (hopefully) and has large fragrant flowers.  The instructions say it can be grown all over the world because it has a small root system, but these are the flowers used to make leis in Hawaii.  And mine come all the way from Epcot! 

I bought two: a hybrid and a plain white flower.  Now I apparently have to stick them in some soil in a pot and watch the illicit magic happen.

Leis are worn by women to show their relationship status: over the right ear if looking for a relationship, over the left if taken.  How romantic.  Hopefully in a few years I can grow my own flowers, wear my homemade lei and finally stop fighting off all these potential suitors that never seem to leave me alone!

Learning to run - or at least make it back to my house

WINNIPEG, Manitoba - This morning I decided to put an end to my exercise moratorium.  I woke up fairly well rested, there were running shoes in my house and it was 7 degrees Celsius outside.  All excuses had been cleared.  So, to the laughing remarks of my husband, I put a sweater over my pajamas and headed outside. 

Earlier this week I had downloaded a "Learn to Run" program from the first response to my Google search.

Run For Life Learn to Run Regimen

It seemed pretty realistic so I began Week 1, which is: run one minute, walk one minute.  Repeat for 30 minutes.  Each week you increase the amount of time you run and decrease the amount of time you walk.  Seemed pretty easy.  After all, I did track in high school and had done yoga pretty regularly about 4 months ago. 

Four minutes into it, I had reached the mound of dirt that mostly blocks my house's view of the Brady Road Landfill.  What?  I have to do this 7 and a half more times?  My math is okay.  My cardiovascular fitness is not.

Those cleared excuses came rushing back.  Someone had switched my 29-year-old hips for rickety, 69-year-old ones.  My cold from last week was burning my throat.  And my knee, oh my knee - that's right, I scraped it in the shower two days ago. 

Thirty minutes is a long time when you track it minute by minute on your iPhone, which in my case, does not have any downloaded music to distract me. Another thing I have to get around to doing, along with researching the proper breathing method during running.  Was I supposed to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth or vice versa?  Or just breathe through my nose?  Not a huge concern, because 15 minutes into running/walking, it was all panting anyway.

When I say running I'm using the term lightly.  Bouncing at a pace just above a walk is more truthful.  But I did my 30 minutes and made it into my house, where I lay down on my doormat and announced my success to my family.  My husband was shaving and didn't hear me.  My two-year-old demanded more popcorn in his orange, plastic bowl.

Day one down.  8 weeks, 6 days to go.  Can I go back to bed now? 

New words and prayers

WINNIPEG, Manitoba - "Mommy, I'm disappointed."
My four-year-old told me this yesterday.  I brushed it off in my mind as an over-zealous use of an unknown word.  "Why are you disappointed?"
"Because Gramma is sick."
"Oh, so you mean you're sad," I replied smugly.
"No, she's sick so I couldn't visit her yesterday.  I miss her.  I'm disappointed." 
Like, duh, Mom, don't you get it?

--
At lunch I asked her to say grace.  She told me to go first so I quickly ran through my standard Christian-upbringing "Bless us, Oh, Lord..."
When I finished, she bowed her head, closed her eyes and put her palms together.  She breathed in deeply.  "Jesus.  Take care of us through the night.  Take care of us through the day.  Please help all the people who don't have the things they need or the things they want and the people who live on the street.  Help the poor people.  Amen."

--  
And then there's my two-year-old son who throws in new words and phrases every few hours it seems.  I hear him bargaining upstairs for a movie at bedtime right now.  "I want to watch Rio,please."  Pretty good phrase structure for a toddler.  Add two giant brown eyes and out-of-control curls and he's a killer combination for even the strictest parent (which I definitely am not).

And now I'm hearing the sounds of birds singing and Samba music - meaning my husband gave in.  I'd better go intervene.  My husband doesn't call me "Fun Killer" for nothing.

Neglected

WINNIPEG, Manitoba - I have not posted for months and months.  Each time I go to put something up, I realize I don't have a picture on the computer and I'll have to go find that cord that goes from my camera or iPhone (how fancy!), and who the heck knows where that is?  So I've finally sucked it up and am going to post without photos of my garden (which is dormant and covered in a thin layer of pathetic snow) or my babies (who are also technically dormant since it's 9:29 p.m. and I don't expect them to emerge until about 2 a.m.).

If you are in Winnipeg like me, you're probably wondering what is going to make it through this winter in your garden.  There has been very little snow cover so I'm thinking some of my newly-planted perennials will not show themselves this year or give up the fight completely.  This lack of snow has also been detrimental on my kids.  They need to run and play and scrounge in the front yard and I am not very willing to drag them along the bare pavement in their plastic sled.

However, we have received a good dump of snow over the last week.  My husband drives a truck and he's so happy to plow through all the drifts at which the rest of us are openly swearing. And the kids were able to play in the backyard today.  At least around the edges of the yard against the fence - the sunshine exposed greenish grass in the middle of the yard.  I made lunch and watched them frolic.  And scream in pain when they decided taking off their mitts is the best way to dig their way out of the confines of the fence.  And fight over a red plastic shovel.  And scream at me when I made them come in for a delicious lunch of leftovers and vegetable smiley faces. 

Oh, winter.  Glad to see you leave.  I miss my plants.