Tag Archive | yoga

Dangerous Yoga

Aug18

As usual, I wasn’t sky diving or practicing tight-rope walking when I hurt my back this morning. Instead, I was doing some yoga moves that I’ve done many times before, but this time my low back decided it didn’t like those poses. And now I’m so crippled I had to ask Calvin to water my fig trees as I can’t lift the heavy water jugs.

Instead I’ll have to work on my writing which I always like to avoid doing. It’s strange to have a hobby that one dreads. Why do it then? It’s not possible to explain to anyone who doesn’t write. But as difficult as it can be, I find it’s one of those activities whereby hours go by without me noticing them passing. And of course I like to see the final product, so there’s that.

Unless one is dissatisfied with the final product, as I was with book 2 of my series featuring the wiener dogs as crime fighters. I had to re-visit and re-write parts of it so that I could go onto book 3, the final one. Once that one’s written, illustrated and for sale on Amazon I’ll let you know. I think they might be nice as Christmas gifts for people with small kids.

Just as it took years to realize I was retired and could do whatever I liked, it’s finally starting to dawn on me that without caring for Mom, I have more spare time. I was very wrapped up in the probate forms and then getting the property ready for sale. Without having to drive 100 miles each way every two weeks I find I have many more days to do whatever it is that moves me.

To whit: Yesterday I drove to Trail Appliances and spent money like a drunken sailor. I bought a gorgeous induction oven, an upright freezer and a dishwasher. All high-end and I didn’t even blink at the bottom line because that’s what I wanted, so that’s what I got. Being retired turns a person into a bit of a narcissistic maniac.

I feel particularly enamoured of my new stove. Though it cost more than my first Honda Civic, the interior is cobalt blue. The exterior is white. I think I’m in love. The reason for the stove finally hit full force when I tried to make one of those roasts where you start them at 500 then turn off the oven for two hours. I made that for Calvin’s visiting friend from Hungary, and it was a disaster as my oven doesn’t hold heat. After that I went, that’s it. Cooking and baking are my hobbies.

And as these are my hobbies, I have to invite people over to eat the stuff. In the past two weeks I had Rhonda’s widower Ron, then Petra and on another occasion Marie here for lunch. I also had Mike the Eccentric House Painter here for a farewell lunch as he leaves to find his fame and fortune in Terrace, BC.

I’ve discovered brining and am nuts over it. Have you ever tried it? I got some of those extra thick cut pork chops and wondered what on Earth one does to ensure they’re done, yet not dry. Looks like brining is the answer. I put two of these massive chops into four cups of water with four tablespoons of kosher salt and left them for eight hours. Delicious and moist.

Thursday could be a dangerous day given Elsa and I are going treasure hunting. We haven’t been in several weeks which likely means the back seat heaped and the trunk full. This is another hobby that I enjoy very much, but which can also cause consternation.

 But with this bad back I may as well shop as God knows it’s probably the best therapy for it.

Sneaky Yoga

Jul3

It’d be wonderful to be able to say one had been injured falling from a bike, riding a horse, water skiing, but no, my back is wrecked thanks to yoga. I’ve been alternating weights one day, yoga the next so imagine my surprise to find it was the yoga that injured me.  So simple, just kneel, put your left leg forward into a lunge, raise your right arm and bring it to the outside of the left knee and look toward the back corner of the mat. Just a simple twist, but for some reason, my body balked.

I’m taking advantage of it by doing even less than I would normally do, physically that is. I still have to work on my kids book as I want to complete the third by the end of this summer. Then I’ll have a nice little series of three featuring the dachshunds as the neighbourhood crime watch. You’ll be absolutely stunned when you see the illustrations an artist is doing for them.

It’s kind of insulting the way the dogs act when I clean or put on makeup. It’s like I never do these things, so when I do they think something’s up. And I suppose it must be true, as dogs are creatures of habit. When I put on makeup, I’m generally going out, or else someone’s coming. I always clean before a guest comes due to the mountains of cat and dog fur everywhere, so it makes sense.

But when I’m just at home, deciding to clean for the hell of it, no-one coming, I do feel the sting of the dogs’ quiet judgement. Alright, already, I’ll vacuum and dust more frequently if that’s what you’re on about.

Remember Joan Rivers’ old joke? You vacuum, make the beds, clean the bathroom, do the dishes, and why? Six months later you have to do it all over again.

Yesterday I made a very poor-quality roast for Calvin, Visini and their guest Dominic from Hungary. I stupidly decided I’d try something different and make a medium rare kind of roast, whereas I’m really best at the well-cooked pot roasts and stews. And of course it was tough as shoe leather, though I’d prepared for that with an immense number of fatty sides.

I’d also made my four-layer chocolate cake and distributed large pieces topped with ice cream. All of that seemed to take their minds of the dreck roast. I said to Visini the next time I say to you I’m going to experiment with something new, stop me.

Here’s something absolutely disgusting and terrifying: Calvin saw a very large rat in the storage room downstairs. About a month ago when Sylvie came to feed the cats as we were away, she said she heard a scrabbling sound. I said probably some half-beaten animal the cats dragged in. But no, it’s a healthy rat, enjoying all the Purina Cat Chow it can hold.

I wondered why I would have 7 empty cans of cat food in a day and now I know why. I’m terribly disappointed in the cats for not killing it and its kin, of which I imagine there are many given the endless supply of food. I’ve now removed all cat food and will get a few nice big strong rat traps and hope to Jesus I rid the house of them. Can you imagine?

By the next time I write, I will have celebrated the first birthday of my life without my mom. I had 71 of them with her, so that’s quite an extraordinary number. Mom being the kind of person she was, she always held large outside galas on her deck in the Osoyoos heat. This year I’ll be busy setting rat traps instead and that’s fine, too.