This and That

These are recycled from February 2013 but are as good as new to me since I haven't seen them in a while. This dock and boat, in their advanced state of deterioration, really appeal to me.

But then again I don't get out much.

And I'm very easily entertained.

Growing up in Mathews in the days before technology, the back yard was the cable TV, the internet, the cell phone, the Netflix, everything. You made your own fun.  Luckily I've not forgotten those days and am still very much amused by almost nothing at all.

It's either a life skill or some form of insanity, I'm not sure which.

Not to sound like a broken record, but things are busier than ever at work and at home--especially work. This weekend is a long one, though, thanks to the federal holiday on Monday.

Saturday morning bright and early, Baby Sis and I will jog a 10K over in New Kent at a winery, a first for us.  We'll trot up and down hills and meander through neighborhoods and with any luck be rewarded with wine and chocolate at the finish.  I dread the running in this cold, cold weather but look forward to the rest.

Baby Sis is trying to talk me into seeing a band in Richmond on Saturday night, after the 10K.

Something tells me after the week I've had and the early morning jog in frigid temperatures, I'll be ready for nothing more than a very long nap Saturday evening. And staring out my window onto Queens Creek from the comfort, warmth and quiet of my warm living room.

But we'll see.

I hope your weekend is fantastic.

Scenes from Queens Creek

These are glimpses of pine branches trying to touch a few clouds one evening as the sun was setting on Queens Creek.

Depending on where I stood and how much I zoomed in, the branches were either just about touching or had a ways to go.

Ordinarily I'd also factor in the wind and its impact on the clouds, but as you can see by the slick cam, there was no wind.

Those of you who know what a slick cam is can go ahead and laugh hysterically that I am using the phrase. But the point is the wind wasn't blowing, the creek was as smooth as glass, and the clouds weren't moving quickly. And they do still say slick cam around here, for the record.

Eventually those pine branches did touch the clouds.

(Maybe not, but it looked that way to me.)

Growing up in Mathews in the pre-cable TV, pre-internet, pre-cell phone era required lots of imagination to create entertainment with whatever was in your back yard even if it was a pine tree and some lingering clouds.  

It's a habit that's hard to break--inventing your own entertainment-- even when you're 48 years old with the distractions of TV, internet and cellphones within arm's reach.

Anyway, the weekend is here. I hope yours is filled with fun, imagination and a sense of cam calm.

Trees

The deadish branches in the foreground look like antelope antlers.
By the way, there are no antelopes in Mathews.
We do have cantaloupes though, that rhymes.
Also at one point we had an escaped emu. True story.

The antelope branches from another angle.
Am I the only one whose brain works this way,
focusing on  Dr Seuss-like rhymes dead branches instead of the bigger picture,
which, by the way, is basically of nothing?

The trees  look like they are blowing smoke,
the way those clouds drift up to the left.
(The trees may not be the only ones blowing smoke.)

The Lone Ranger

These trees were brought to you courtesy of my last jaunt to Bethel Beach. The silly commentary was brought to you by one tired silly blogger.

Have a great weekend that hopefully includes a little laughter and silliness.  If you run out of silliness, just come talk to me.

There's plenty more where this came from.

Beach Art

Bad Hair Day

Thursday I took a walk down Haven Beach.  

The sky was very Scooby Doo-ish.

Gloomy, overcast, a little creepy.

(But I didn't see any ghosts.)

Howling Dog

There are many stumps, downed trees, and pieces of driftwood there,

What would you call this one?  So much going on.
I'm going with Twister.

many of which take on the appearance of familiar forms
if you stare at them long enough.

Daydreaming Staring at inanimate objects
and making up stories is one of my favorite pastimes.

(I'm easily entertained.)

People watching is too.

But there's not much of that here at Haven Beach.

The Claw

Speaking of entertainment, I hope your weekend is full of it.

Have a great one.

Half Marathon

Mental P. Mama, CBW, and Baby Sis
post-race at the Manteo waterfront.

Sunday I joined fellow bloggers Mental Pause Mama, Ann Marie, and my very own, one-of-a-kind Baby Sis in the OBX Half Marathon which started in Cobbs Creek Nags Head and ended up in Borneo Manteo, North Carolina.

The short version of the experience:  We thrived, we survived we imbibed, and we had an absolute blast. Baby Sis and I finished together with an overall time of 2 hours 31 minutes, and we did not walk once.

(To put this into a bit of perspective, however, the winner of the full marathon ran 26 miles in 2 hours and 29 minutes.  In other words, we were jogging at a snail's pace. But we were jogging!)

CBW and MPM

The weather could not have been more perfect.  A bit chilly in the morning but no wind and not a cloud in the sky.  After the sun rose, things warmed up but not enough to be oppressive even while jogging nonstop for three days two and a half hours.

MPM and Baby Sis

Somewhere early on, Baby Sis and I parted ways with MPM.  She has a stress fracture from a few years back and had to take it easy.  She completed the entire race, though, even if her foot was aching terribly afterwards.

Baby Sis and I then embarked on an adventure that can only be described as hilarious.  I swear there is something in our genes that attracts hilarity, inanity, insanity, humor, comedy, dysfunction, and gas in everything we do.

(Yes, I said gas. No, I don't mean gasoline.)

As if we needed anything extra to make us laugh, since we laughed pretty much the whole 3-hour drive to the Outer Banks on Saturday, Sunday's race provided the opportunity for us to acknowledge, humor, coddle, encourage, and embrace our Inner Toddlers Inner Teenagers.

Somewhere between miles 5 and 7, give or take, we found ourselves jogging through a very lovely sound side neighborhood. During this particular part of the race there were no (or rather very few) roadside spectators cheering us on, nobody ringing a cowbell, no DJs with music blaring as could be found in other parts of the race.

No, this part of the route was just pure silence except for the plodding of feet on the pavement and the clanking of my necklace.  The sun was rising over the ocean, the water on the sound was very calm, the air was cool, and every so often we caught a whiff of some wonderful floral scent that Baby Sis said was similar to gardenia or jasmine. It was a Zen-like experience.  (Whatever that is.)

And then it happened.

Just as we're starting to relax and get into a groove with this whole test of endurance, in the middle of a crowd of silent joggers, the man in front of Baby Sis passed some gas.

Actually, that is an understatement.  I'm not convinced gas was the only thing passed. Regardless, jasmine and gardenias most definitely were not involved.

Anyway, we seemed to be the only ones in the whole crowd who (a) heard what happened; (b) acknowledged what happened; (c) found what happened to be more than mildly amusing; (d) nearly fell off the course trying to restrain our laughter while moving forward; (e) can't seem to stop talking about it as the highlight of the event; (f) are still cracking ourselves up talking about it.

Clearly we lead a sheltered life.  Also, we may need to grow up.  After all, we're in our 40s for gosh sakes.

(But where's the fun in growing up?)

CBW and Baby Sis, between Miles 9 and 10, giddy from everything,
including my new favorite thing,  Gu Gel.
Photo Stolen from Phyllis M. on Facebook.
(Thanks, Phyllis!)

I had so much fun doing this, it's one of the highlights of my adult life (so far).  I encourage anyone who is able to walk to consider participating in some sort of organized event.  (Actually walking is not even a requirement as there were wheelchair participants.) I am not a distance runner, never have been, but it isn't about how you finish or when you finish or even if you finish.  It's about the journey to the finish line, who you're with, and everything that happens along the way.  Like noticing the scent of flowers, or seeing someone you know (Hi, Phyllis!) on the sidelines cheering you on.  Or spontaneously dancing. Or laughing hysterically with your sister.

It's all about the journey.

Just like life I suppose.

Wright Memorial Bridge leading from mainland NC to Outer Banks.

Three Things

Here are a few more shots from Saturday afternoon's

trip to Yankee Point Marina.

 Jamestown Settlement ship replica

Dinghy dock.
(Say that six times without cracking a smile.  I dare you.)

More dinghies.
(I am so easily entertained by the word dinghy, it's ridiculous.)

Saturday was a great day.

So here we are at Thursday already, and I'm still talking about last Saturday. Sometimes on this blog Thursdays are reserved for sharing three random thoughts dating back to last weekend.   Since I really don't have a whole lot on my mind right now, at least nothing worth sharing, I'll pass on my turn and ask you to share three things.  Anything at all, no matter how random. 

Otherwise feel free to remark on Yankee Point Marina, the Jamestown Settlement and/or the word dinghy.

Happy Thursday.

King and Queen and Paula Deen

Last Saturday night was the second time I left my son since his surgery.

I had dinner at her house in King and Queen County.

This barn is in her back  yard.

While I was there, I met a new friend 

who was hanging out in the picnic table area.

She's big, she's bad, and she means business.

Her name is Paula, and she's a biker garden gnome.

A garden gnome biker.

A garden gnome.

In biker attire.

Maybe I'm easily amused, but this thing cracks. Me. UP.

Paula was so named because she looks like Paula Deen.

In a biker's outfit.

(If Paula Deen ever were to don a biker's outfit. Or a garden gnome hat.)

I told BHE that I see a very bright blog future for Paula, y'all.

I envision her making trips to see blog friends in New York, Tennessee, California--all over the place.

Paula is my new favorite garden gnome.

(No, CBW has not lost her marbles.)

(Yet.)

(She just sees so much comedic potential  in a garden gnome named Paula.)

Don't you think Paula is nothing short of Ms. Personality Plus?

CBW may be suffering the ill effects of sleep deprivation, which she's working towards correcting need to get out more often.  It was bad enough when she was wondering about bird conversations.  Now she's planning vacations for  garden gnomes named after Food Network stars. Please don't call Eastern State Hospital.  (Yet.)