Category Archives: Balderdash.

Out with the old…

Today we went for a walk…Sunday afternoon, and the sun was working its way out from behind the clouds.  The trees are fully in bloom here, bursting with little pink, white, and yellow flowers, while the willows sway more heavily with their distinctively chartreuse foliage.  The fragility of spring is extraordinary; it is its freshness, its newness that makes it sing for us – the promise that it cannot stay.

But spring has been strange this year.

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Springing Forward

There comes a point – some years more toward the beginning of the winter and the end of fall, others not until a particularly grey and cold February – when I forget that winter can’t last forever.  I forget that the sun won’t always go down at 4:30, that I’ll soon sweat when I go out for a run, and I won’t ache for every sliver of sunlight I can steal.  These aren’t conscious, logical thoughts, but I know they’re real because without fail, even with the reminders that precede it – flowers in bloom, sunnier days, sweatier jogs – I am almost shocked when we “spring forward” an hour.

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Solitude, Impostor Syndrome, and Energetic Tackiness

This is officially the longest I’ve gone without human contact in – well, my whole life.  And while I would love to compare my experience to some monastic awakening, I’m pretty sure I’d have had to abstain from the copious amounts of red wine and Boardwalk Empire I’ve ingested in the space of that time to qualify for anything sublime.  OK – to be fair to me, I haven’t had that much wine…

(Seriously, HBO, what are you trying to do to me?  First The Sopranos, then The Wire, and now this?)

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Stuff.

During our years in London (8 for me and 5 for Ann) we lived in quite a lot of places. Once I worked out that in my 8 years in London I lived in 11 places…I don’t even know how that’s possible. Throughout our time in London we accumulated a certain amount of stuff, but then during the last 2 years or so, we consciously went through the process of getting rid of as much of it as possible in light of the fact that we decided we would up and go volunteer in the Philippines. At that point we knew we were leaving for a while but we had no idea when (or if) we would be back in Europe to live. We wanted to travel light and there was only so much we could bring back to France to leave in storage at my parents’, so we had to take action. Continue reading

Why I do yoga.

“You don’t have a soul.  You are a soul.  You have a body.”

~ C.S. Lewis

I’m pretty confident in saying that I struggled a bit as a child.  I know we all have our difficulties, and probably mine weren’t any greater than the next kids’, but they felt huge to me at the time, and I guess, as per one of my last posts, I’m comfortable admitting that perception counts for a lot.  Anyway, the source of a lot of my suffering was my body.  First, I was tall.  Really tall.  By the time I was 10 years old I was 5’7″ (170 cm).  Once, when out buying school supplies with my mom, the cashier asked, “So, will you be going into 6th or 7th grade this year?”  I was going into 2nd.  Tall wouldn’t have been all that bad, I guess, because there was, for the first few years of school, one boy who was taller than me (he left after 3rd grade.  I have never forgiven him for that.  Mr. David F., wherever you are…).  But I was also fat.  And fat can be cute sometimes, others not.  Without a doubt I fell into the latter category.  Compounding the issue, of course, was the fact that I had a terrible overbite accompanied by a horrendous lisp (thanks for sorting that out, Mom), and have always, always been quick to tears.  Children can be mean, and I’m sure at times I was one of the mean kids, too, but most often I sat alone at lunchtime, or walked laps around the soccer field at recess.  I was last picked for every game, and openly mocked in class by both teachers and students.  I was decidedly unhappy.

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Nobody’s Perfect…or, All Party Fouls Come in Three’s…

The year was 2007.  I had just ditched my crutches after 6 months of functioning as a triped in anticipation of our friend S’s visit to Chris’ hometown with us.  There we stood, at the banks of the Loire River, sun just warming us enough to make the water seem tempting, although for my part just getting down there seemed excitement aplenty.  Chris, on the other hand, was in top form, and decided to go for a dip.  He found a spot deep enough to jump in and took the plunge…not enough to immerse him fully, but just above his waist…and then the look – not of pain, but of horror – he’d forgotten to take his mobile out of his pocket.  It was brand new, or thereabouts.  He loved it – the HTC Hero – and try as we did to dry it out, it was just too late. Continue reading

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