Share Your World | Going To The Turtles

Once a week Cee asks the questions on her blog, and I answer them here on my blog.  It’s a good thing, ‘ya know?

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 What is something that people are obsessed with but you just don’t get the point of?



Here’s my take on it: a bunch of people, who call themselves a team and wear matching culottes, make a big deal about bouncing a ball while running to one end of a wooden court where they make squeaky noises with their shoes as they toss the ball among the team members.  Eventually, someone attempts to throw the ball into an overhead small circular net.

Why?  No one knows.

Then, the whole nonsensical show repeats at the other end of the court allowing the other team to do the same thing.  And then it happens again.

Ad infinitum. 👎

What quirky things do people do where you are from?

No one does this where I live now but…

I grew up in a small town where the word “mango” meant green pepper.  Yep, no one called green peppers what they were, except my mother who knew that a mango was a tropical fruit, not a vegetable.

She never tried to correct anyone in town on this point, but she did make it clear to me that what everyone in this small town believed to be true, was in fact objectively false in the rest of the world.

It was a life lesson, I suppose, on the dangers of groupthink.  And of putting the wrong ingredients into your recipes.

 • What are some things you wish you could unlearn?

What it is like to be inside a MRI.  All of them, any style.  It’s a feeling too horrible for words.

Who is someone that you miss having in your life? 

I used to go to yoga classes at the wellness center in a local hospital. Carol, a RN, taught the classes.

These classes were the most safe and satisfying yoga experiences I ever had.  However, Carol retired, the hospital closed the wellness center, and I’ve been left ever since trying to find [unsuccessfully] anyone as fun and centered as Carol was.

I miss Carol.

Optional Bonus Question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up? 

Last week’s gratitude award goes to Fredrik Backman for writing the darkly humorous novel, A Man Called Ove.  This book kept me entertained/distracted for hours so that the remodeling noise and the various people traipsing around inside our house did not bother me.  No better review, eh?

This week’s looking forward to something goes to meeting some friends to go see a professional baseball game.  We do this once a year and it’s always a good time, regardless of who wins the game.

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This post is part of Cee’s Share Your World Weekly Writing Challenge.

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Yoga Lessons Revisited: She Like To Move It, Move It

I’ve stretched my body more lately.  To make my joints more flexible, my alignment more comfortable, my muscles more toned.  Doing yoga asanas, that is.  Or my middle-aged out-of-shape reinterpretation of them.

It’s been a little over 10 years since I stopped going to yoga classes on a regular basis.

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“Keep on meeting the edge.”

~ said Kathy, who moved away from the city to live on an organic farm

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I had always enjoyed taking yoga classes, but my favorite instructors, who each had her own way of explaining life on and off the mat, stopped teaching.

The only woman I could find who did not do hot yoga, which I think is nuts, was more about selling her book and CDs than teaching yoga.  She was quite the personality kid, which annoyed me.

So I stopped attending her classes, thinking I’d continue my practice on my own.

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“When in doubt, don’t.”

~ said Donna, who got a newspaper byline and is living her dream of being a writer

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But you know how things like that go.  Procrastination + laziness took over– and eventually the idea of daily yoga practice floated out of my monkey mind.

However, this fall I acknowledged that I’m getting older and that I’m beginning to walk more THUNK * THUNK * THUNK than flow * flow * flow.  Which is to say my daily walks are morphing into daily moseys because I’m going slower and slower.

Re-enter daily yoga practice.

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“Well isn’t that interesting?”

~ said Cathy, who had a hip replacement then decided to retire with her husband to somewhere warm

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I’ve yet to commit to a specific time and place for my stretching, but if memory serves, back years ago when I was really into yoga, I used the late afternoon as my practice time… which I suppose I could do again.

And that, my gentle readers, is what’s up with me today in my quest to age gracefully + not keel over by the side of the road.

Ever onward, I say.  Each of us moving forward in our own way.

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“Fizz-a-cally-fit, Fizz-a-cally-fit…”

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In Which I Am Not Mindful While Shopping In The Grocery Store

I found myself with an hour of free time late in the afternoon.  As I was already out & about I decided to run into Kroger to pick up a few things.  Because I wasn’t planning on going there, I didn’t have my shopping list with me.

I knew that I needed 6 items to make what I had in mind for dinner, so I decided to assign each ingredient to a finger/thumb.  The result of this impromptu shopping list was that I looked like a child counting on my fingers as I shopped.  Goofy as it was, my finger list did work.  BUT it also meant that I started pushing my cart, a large one, with one hand.

And if there is anything that you must remember about me, it is that I am not too coordinated.  Clumsy, even.

Thus, it will come as no surprise when I tell you that while counting on one hand and pushing the cart with my other hand I managed to block a produce aisle with my catty-wampus, slightly out-of-control cart.

I knew immediately that I was in the way.  Pretty much because I heard the metal clank of my cart bumping another cart head-on.  It’s a sound one recognizes even while staring at one’s fingers and thumb.

I looked up ready to offer an apology when I  realized that the woman who I’d inconvenienced was Lilias Folan.  As in someone famous.  As in someone with a nationally syndicated PBS TV show.  As in the woman who is sometimes credited with introducing yoga to the USA.

Yep, that’s who I bashed into in the grocery produce department.  Good job, Ms. Bean.

But here’s the thing, Lilias was just standing there with a kind smile on her face waiting for the crazy lady [moi] to get out of her way.  She had no where to back up to, so her choice was to be patient OR to get angry.  And because she was living her life off the mat as she did on the mat, she chose the former.

Of course, me being me, after I said that I was sorry I tried to explain myself by babbling about fingers and no shopping list and dinner– et cetera, et cetera.  And my dithery explanation, I’m happy to report, got Lilias laughing.

This made me feel better about my screw-up and got me thinking that it’s time for me to get back into yoga because I want to be that older woman with perfect posture, a calm aura & the ability to laugh when things go wrong.

And who better to emulate than Lilias?  The bumpee in my brush bump with greatness.

Late Winter

It is drab outside.  Dark brown, gray, rust with hints of dingy green.  My light-sensitive eyes enjoy not squinting, but my spirit longs for sunlight, growth, something new.


Fresh flowers.  Citrus fruit.  Coffee.  These are the items that keep me whole during these last few weeks of winter gloom.


Raining and bleak outside.  Late afternoon.  I stop at our local grocery hoping to grab a few essentials.  The place is crowded with shoppers who, to put it politely, are very focused on their objectives.  Chaos.  Unhappiness.

Waiting three deep in front of the milk case I notice an older woman who is completely relaxed in the middle of this madness.  She radiates health, calm– and has excellent posture.

Intrigued, I look more closely and realize who it is.  Lilias Folan.  Of PBS yoga fame.  I quietly congratulate myself for paying attention– and stand up straighter.  Stomach in, shoulders back.  Move forward with grace.


I buy a bright yellow and green pillar candle.  At home I put the candle on a plate and set it on the granite counter in the kitchen.  I light the candle and the reflection of the flame on the counter gives me hope.  There is Spring in our kitchen.  For now.  I feel better.


Weekend plans keep me focused on doing.  As much as I want to, I can’t sit and stare out the window at nothing.  I must prepare.  Get ready.


Purple.  Orange.  Yellow.  Pansies planted in the fall.  Which colors will survive the winter?  Every year it is different.  I wait to see.  Curiosity replaces ennui.


The dark green stems of the daffodils are shooting up in the backyard.  Cheery yellow.  A bit of orange.  Color is on its way.  I am revived.