BVI, day 11

The time zone in the BVI and Puerto Rico is two hours ahead of us at home.

I woke up the morning of the 11th day at 12:45 AM to shower, leave by 2 AM, and catch a plane at 4 AM our time at home. I was approached by someone asking if I would do a survey at the airport. Normally I would say no because who has time for that. But there I sat while everyone else in the group waited in an endless line for coffee.

I didn’t get coffee. Instead this time I took my anxiety medicine. I was hoping to relax and sleep on the plane since I didn’t get much rest on the sailboat. But things never turn out the way I plan. The flight from San Juan to Chicago was 5 hours long and I’d be lucky if I slept half of it.

At the end of the flight, we were warned we were headed towards some nasty turbulence but that the pilots were very experienced and would get us through it safely. Terrified I braced myself to my seat for the longest time but the turbulence never came.

Many of the passengers coughed. I thought to myself that I would rather get sick after my vacation than during. That was until I got sick and decided I would rather not be sick at all.

We reached our connecting flight with just enough time for me to get a cup of coffee. I had play practice that evening that I couldn’t miss because I already missed 4 rehearsals from the vacation. Time to wake up!

Our second flight home was very short and as we were making our descent, I was filled with dread. There was snow everywhere! No more warm weather for a long time.

I had just enough time to unpack before heading out the door again. I heard stories of how things went when we were gone. Paul’s step-dad Darryl stayed at our house over the weekends we were gone. Monday morning he overslept and Arabella had to wake him up to take her to school. He left in such a hurry that he didn’t let the dog out and there was a mess to clean up later in the day when my mom came. He also told Arabella that he was going fishing on a day that she had to work and wouldn’t be able to give her a ride.

My mom stayed during the week and things didn’t go that much better. Alex skipped school one day because he didn’t wake up in the morning. My mom and Arabella were having so much fun that my mom didn’t take her to school one day until 10 AM. My mom wrote Arabella a note saying that she got stuck in our driveway which wasn’t true. Those things made me very angry (now you can see why I worry so). But I let it go reasoning with myself that the pets and my children were still alive.

That night I felt horribly tired at play practice. Jet lag I suppose. I felt dizzy as well. For all the time I spent on the sailboat, I didn’t feel like I was on a boat at all until I got home. Everything was rocking for two days. Then I got a really nasty cold for 2 weeks and maybe only slept two nights in a full month. But, hey, at least I had a pretty good vacation.

At this point you are probably wondering if I would’ve done anything different if you are still reading this. Yes, I would’ve left the wet suit at home. I would’ve brought a good pair of boat/water shoes. I would’ve done more research online. If you decide to read any books regarding the BVI make sure they are written post hurricane because some of the things we read about and wanted to visit simply weren’t there anymore.

Also, we opted to sail the boat ourselves without a paid captain or chef. I would recommend doing that if you have people onboard that are skilled at both. Also, it does help if the crew is in good physical condition.

It is always iffy to travel with friends. We didn’t know Tim and Cara that well and didn’t really know Stan and Angela at all. Overall, we got along pretty good. But there were instances when someone felt like the third wheel. Also, we were in very tight quarters and at times under stressful circumstances which doesn’t always bring out the best in people. There is a lot of invasion of private space and necessity to work together as a team to make decisions. I guess that’s what makes it a real adventure!

Thanks for reading!

 

 

BVI, day 6

Last night after supper, the girls and I booked a massage. Before our appointments, we went to the local store to provision. The grocery store was very small. It reminded me of the small town grocery store we went to when I was growing up when we didn’t want to make the 20 mile trip into town to the big store.

The couple (owners?) that managed the store was very nice. The lady was humming along to the Christian music that was on the store’s radio. Half of the store held groceries, the other half liquor with a little meat section in between. The atmosphere was very laid back and friendly. A lot different from our little town store where the guy smoked a cigar and the lady smelled of liquor always touting the latest gossip.

I have to admit, I absolutely love massages but I am always a tad bit nervous about receiving them in a foreign country. The previous evening the lady behind the counter asked us if we would be comfortable with a male masseuse. Quickly, Cara and Angela said no. I told her I would prefer a female, however I would go with whoever was available. I would rather receive a massage by a guy than no massage at all. This whole massage thing was my idea.

We all had female masseuses. I was lead back to a room with a very small table. I could hear Cara talking in the next room which was partitioned by a closet door. My massage was awesome! The prices were very comparable to a massage at home.

Today we are planning on sailing to Monkey Point. We had the option before leaving to top off our water supply and ended up paying quite a bit of money to do so.

We never made it to Monkey Point. Today it’s cool and incredibly windy. We decided as a group to spend the night at Scrub Island.

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Today was our third day of rainbows. Tim called me to come out to take pictures. He convinced me with the double rainbow over the water. It was beautiful.

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That night we ate at Pusser’s. Cara ordered a drink in the souvenir Pirate Mug, but they were out of the mug she wanted. I don’t think she was too crazy about what she ordered either.

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The next morning we were greeted with a glorious sunrise.

Cara had some eco friendly laundry soap. Since we packed light and my clothes were dirty, I decided to give it a whirl. To be honest, it wasn’t worth the effort. Off the back deck, I leaned down 2 1/2 ft and dipped all of the dirty clothes in salt water. I put small items in a plastic bag. I was afraid that I might lose some of the items. Then I washed the items in soap, rinsed in salt water again, hosed them off with fresh water, and hung them out to dry.

It was really hard on the knees. As I was hanging them out, I noticed that my pajamas had blood on it under the arm. I checked for a flesh wound, nothing. Then I thought I must’ve brushed it against some fish blood somewhere along the deck. Always make sure that the area that you are doing laundry in is clean. Apparently, I did not. It was a lot of work to have some clothes dirtier than they started.

I hung the clothes on the life line to dry. With the wind and the sailing, I was worried that they might blow off. They didn’t. Despite sailing and the wind, it took my clothes all day to dry. With the periods of rain and the humidity, some of the clothes felt damp and never fully dried.

Then we left for our original destination, Monkey Point.

New endings

I was planning on writing something inspirational today. But, hey, it’s a stormy Monday and I’m just not feeling it. I feel sad and tired today.

This past weekend Angel left to start her junior year in college. She really doesn’t need us anymore. Her boyfriend helped move her in. I guess I always feel sad this time of year. But with each passing year, it does get easier when she leaves. It is also hard to think of summer ending when we know the harshness that lies ahead.

Angel left on a good note. Even her brother Alex and her are getting along.

We’ve been struggling with Alex. We have a college tour scheduled in a couple of weeks and he just said that he is no longer interested in going to college. The only thing he wants to do with his life is music, which will be a difficult path even if he does go to college. Now that he is an adult, he is ready to move out. We have been talking to him and giving him advice, but he has no interest in listening.

We are out of touch and don’t know anything. Wait! I thought that was my parents, not me!!

I suppose it is the natural way of life. You have so much wisdom and experience to share with your adult children, but they just want to do it their own way. No one ever told me it would be so hard to see them making the wrong decisions. It’s laughable actually. I thought that when my kids became adults I would be done with this. But it is actually one of the hardest parenting times ever. For the first time ever, you have to learn to walk away.

My youngest daughter Arabella will be starting a new school next week as a sophomore. She decided that she wanted to get up early this week and prepare herself for having to get up early for school. She stays out of trouble, gets good grades, and has a job. She is very responsible. But will that all come to a crashing halt in the next couple of years?? I am afraid of that, but this time I am totally prepared for it.

I feel disappointment and sorrow. Maybe I need to change my focus from all that is going wrong to all that is going right. I have to let go and move on with my own life. I did everything that I could do.

 

The party uninvited

I knew that it happened. I won’t tell you how, I just knew.

I was angry, a feeling that hasn’t been fleeting lately.

I thought that once my teens became adults that I would be done with all of the crap. But now I find myself looking for babysitters, who btw were always in short supply in the first place.

Babysitters for adults? Laughable, almost.

I flipped through some parenting magazines. Did you ever notice that they stop giving advice right before children hit puberty? You know, the time when most parents really start needing advice.

I long for the days when sleeping through the night was my biggest concern. Scratch that, how I long to sleep through the night. It’s something I rarely do anymore.

I am worn down. It’s funny how parenting three teenagers can do that to you. I used to resent parents of teenagers before when my kids were little. They were always minimizing my problems…little kids, little problems…big kids, big problems.. Now I understand. If only I could capture the middle childhood years in a bottle like an expensive vintage wine. Those were the best years. I could rest easily back then.

Parents of children ages 6 to 11, enjoy it. Those are the best years. They are some of the busiest years too. Cut back. Don’t run your kids to this sport and that practice every single night of the week. Yes, now I am that obnoxious person giving advice.

Guess what? Sometimes I feel like the world’s worst parent. I felt that way this past weekend. Sometimes I want to end it all. I just want to kick my adult children out of my house. I want to cut them off completely and let them try to live on their own without the help of mommy and daddy. Maybe then they would wake up and I would finally sleep.

I probably never will do this (unless they are still living at home in their late 20’s), although at times I want to. When do you cut the cord? Do you ever really cut the cord? They are all still teenagers.

This past weekend, my daughter Arabella and I went up north. Arabella did not want to go up north with me, but at 15 I told her she was too young to stay alone. We actually had a nice time. Until I found out about the party, that is…

My daughter Angel stayed home Friday night last minute. When I left she had a college friend over (that had been staying a couple days since it was a long drive) and her boyfriend Dan. She also said that another couple might be stopping by for awhile. Okay, no problem. She is almost 20 and I trust her. Big mistake that was.

We just moved into a beautiful new house. Everything is perfect, except for one major flaw. There is a balcony that overlooks the pool that seems to have a magnetic force that strongly attracts idiots of all sorts. I have now heard of at least 4 people that jumped off of the second floor balcony into the pool. Apparently this is a social media event worthy of recording. But one misstep could turn it into a fatal flaw.

Angel invited one more friend over on Friday night. This friend found out that a) we have an indoor pool which is super cool, and b) Angel’s parents weren’t home. This ‘friend’ invited 25 of her friends over. These friends showed up in droves with cigarettes and drunk on cheap beer.

Angel got a little sick of it after awhile. Kids were showing up steadily at the door all night. It became unmanageable. Angel hollered out that the neighbors called the cops and everyone left to victimize the next house. Although nothing was broken or stolen, I do feel violated. She may have not intended for our home to be the site of a wild underage drinking party, but it was.

I am not going to be too harsh on her since this is the first time that she really got in deep water. Frankly, I thought that her brother would be the first one to do this. Maybe some good did come of it. It is forcing us to come up with some new strict house rules.

In the meantime, I am wondering how to place a wanted ad for a nanny for adult children.

I wonder what kind of advice the parenting magazine would give me.

Vegas, part 5

I didn’t heed my own advice.

We were only a couple of miles from the hotel when it happened. I am a marathon runner, so I am practically invincible. I could probably walk along a 5 lane highway in the dark in 100 degrees if I had to.

I didn’t pack water.

In my defense, we didn’t have a fridge in the hotel room. Water was pricey. It also tasted like crap hot. Everything cost a lot more than I was planning for. We were only going a few miles anyway..

My daughter, her friend, and I bought tickets to see some Met singers for the trip’s grand finale. Perfect! I was decked out in my dry cleaning only dress. When we got to the parking garage I looked at my rental car. Wait! Was that a flat tire?? I couldn’t find a spare in the trunk.

Are you in a safe location?

How do I know? I am in a deserted parking garage at night in an unfamiliar location. It is over 100 degrees and it looks like some homeless people are camped out in the foliage below. Yes, I’m safe.

Ma’am, we are going to have to tow your vehicle. You will need to wait at the vehicle until the tow truck arrives which may take several hours. Let me see if I have this straight…You need to tow my vehicle for a flat tire??

Girls, you might as well go to the show without me..

Ma’am, where are you located? I have no idea where I am. I am in Las Vegas in a parking garage with no street signs nearby. But there is construction going on across the street. That’s very descriptive, isn’t it?

Ma’am, it may take longer if we need to find a tow truck that needs to be small enough to clear a parking garage..Wonderful!

So I waited…for hours. My makeup smeared and sweat trickled steadily down the back of my dry clean only dress. I missed the show.

It was creepy in the parking garage. I listened to the buzz of the lights. Everything else was eerily silent. At times I heard unexplainable noises that were frightening. I edged closer to my rental car with plans of locking myself inside if anyone planned me harm.

It was very hot and I longed for a drink of ice cold water. I decided to look at Facebook to kill some time. Oh, an article on cities with the highest murder rates. Perfect, let me click on that. Las Vegas ranks #6. What was that strange noise?? If I don’t have water and am alone in a creepy parking garage, maybe I should at least conserve the battery on my cell phone.

A couple of hours later, the tow truck driver showed up. At that point, I would’ve done almost anything to have a sip of ice cold water. Thankfully, the driver had a cooler full in the back of the truck. I was so happy..

Lesson learned…If you are traveling in the desert, pack water. Prepare for the conditions of the environment you are traveling in. Seriously, I didn’t want to spend a couple of bucks to be a little more comfortable if there was an emergency. Wasn’t the best plan..

That was how I spent my last night in Las Vegas.

The next morning we flew back home. After we got off the plane, I saw a kid puking all over the place. But I never felt so happy to get back home. It was a strange adventure. A lot of things didn’t go quite as planned, but I guess that is what makes for interesting stories later…

Fortune cookie wisdom #8

Begin…the rest is easy.

I find this fortune cookie to be very inspiring.

Beginning is the hardest part, right?

Remember starting a blog? How terrifying was that??

Now it seems so natural, so easy, so ingrained…like I’ve been doing this forever.

Every decision to begin something new is fraught with worry. Or at least it is that way for me. Getting married, starting a family, starting a blog, running a marathon, getting on the stage of a community theater, sailing, going to college, moving to a new community, doing a Half Ironman, traveling, etc…insert dream here..

Beginning a new adventure can be terrifying. Fear can prevent someone with great potential from even starting.

I remember my first 10k. I was horrified. I was so afraid I wanted to run in the opposite direction. This summer, I’m going to run my 4th marathon. A lot of people find that inspiring, motivating, or downright crazy. It is all of those things. If I can do it, anybody can. It started with taking the first step. I started running about 5 years before I ever signed up for my first race. People don’t see everything I do when they hear about everything I’ve done.

Running can be very intimidating if you haven’t yet learned to crawl.

I am very motivated to achieve. I can’t sit still. My brain never quiets.

I am also a very competitive person. This has been harder to overcome. I want to be the best runner. I want to be the best blogger. I am secretly (well, not anymore) jealous of people who have thousands of followers after a few months of blogging. I am jealous of people great enough to qualify for the Boston marathon.

I have to get over comparing myself to others and learn to enjoy my own journey…

Sometimes people ask…How can you be a marathon runner? How do you run a successful business working with your husband? How can you blog regularly year after year?

I’ll tell you how I do it. Begin…that is the first step. Keep going. Keep doing your best even if you aren’t the best. Seek the advice of others who are successful. Maybe I’m not as good of a runner as ______ or as good of a blogger as ________. Who cares? I really love it and that is what matters.

Fortune cookie wisdom #6

Advice comes in all forms; some help you and some hurt you.

My husband received this fortune cookie over the weekend. He wouldn’t let me read it and teased me about it for hours until I started giving him advice. **Please note that I said hours before the unsolicited advice arrived.** Once I started giving him advice, he handed over the fortune cookie laughing. He knows how much I love giving advice.

I am good at giving unsolicited advice. Turn in your homework. Get good grades. Drive carefully. Be sure to turn off the lights when you leave the room. Should you be eating ice cream before supper? You will find things easier if you clean your room.

Hey, sometimes people even ask me for advice. Notice that my friend Cindy asked me, instead of her husband, to help her pick out a dress for her son’s wedding.

Now before I start a ‘Dear Alissa’ blog, I’m going to tell you something shocking. There was a time in my life when I didn’t give good advice.

Well there goes my opportunity to make $$ reading two paragraphs of someone’s life and telling them in one paragraph to trust their gut instinct or follow their heart. Damn, I really wrecked that for myself by coming clean with you.

It happened a long time ago back when I was in college. There wasn’t a way to get advice online, so we actually had to rely upon the opinions of real people.

One of my best friends from high school and roommate, Mary, asked me for some advice. She was dating a guy that dropped out of high school and was threatened by her going to college. He had no money and couldn’t hold a job for long. He slept on a dirty mattress (without bedding) on the floor in someone else’s house. His hobbies included drinking and doing drugs.

Now Mary wanted to get married to this guy. Her parents and family advised her not to. She asked me what I thought she should do…Do you love him?? What could possibly go wrong? I mean, love is all you need. Right??!?

Several years down the road, Mary had dropped out of college and worked several jobs to help support her 3 kids because her husband didn’t have a job. She lived in a house that later became condemned. Her daughter had health problems because of the lead paint on the walls. Her husband still had his hobbies of drinking and drugs. He had no interest at all in being a family man.

Not surprisingly, the marriage ended in divorce.

I wish I could’ve given Mary the advice I would’ve given her now. Stay in college. That guy is a loser and is no good for you. You can do better than that.

I wish I had the knowledge and experience then that I have now.

So, here I sit sequestered to a life of giving my family unsolicited advice that they probably won’t heed. But at least most of it is good advice.

The wrath of Evelyn?

I wasn’t going to write about this, but maybe it’s a sign.

I am rather confused on how to read it.

Maybe it’s just a coincidence.

I’m not a very superstitious person.

Ah, who am I kidding?? I get all bent out of shape from a bad fortune wrapped in a crappy tasting cookie.

It started last week on the evening of the first snowstorm in April. We scheduled an appointment for our realtor to come out to get some pricing together on our house. A distant cousin of mine is interested in buying our house before we put it on the market.

The snowstorm prevented the realtor from coming out on the scheduled night.  

I jokingly said to my husband that maybe we weren’t meant to sell the house to my cousin.

After the realtor came out, we scheduled a meeting with my cousin for this past weekend.

This past weekend we got hit by Blizzard Evelyn, the biggest snowstorm our area has seen in over 100 years.

Now Evelyn was my grandma’s sister and my distant cousin’s grandmother.

Another sign, perhaps?

I was fairly close to my Aunt Evelyn. When my kids were little, I often visited her with my grandma.

I felt like I had a lot in common with Evelyn. She was a thin wispy woman that always seemed to worry. Her house was always clean. She had a hard time sitting still. She loved visiting with the kids. Sometimes when we were ready to leave, she would open up the door to a side room with a waiting 10 course homemade meal. She was a lonely widow. How could we say no?

I miss my visits with my grandma and her sister. They have both been gone a long time now. I have remembrances of both around my house. My grandma helped plant the trees in my backyard and I have my aunt’s paintings on my walls. It was soothing to think that maybe a relative would buy our house and the memories of these sweet ladies would live on.

I always envied my cousin. She was the only child born to her parents after over a decade of infertility. She was a miracle baby, a beautiful princess. Her parents spoiled her rotten.

As a child, I wanted her life. I would’ve given anything to be her.

Looking back, I’m glad that my hardest years in life were my childhood. It gave me strength, made me tough, and built my character. If the best years of your life are your childhood, everything else is downhill. How can you be happy when you’ve had it so much better before?? But, of course, I want my children to have a great childhood unlike my own. What is disservice!

I don’t want my cousin’s life anymore. Maybe now she wants my life.

She got married and started a family a couple of years after I did. But, unlike me, she left her husband and children behind for another man. Her family was devastated. Since then several years passed. She is now living with a much older man who just left his wife of many years.

My cousin’s story is not all that much of a rarity anymore. Staying married for a long time to the same person is.

My grandma and her sister married young and stayed with their husbands until death. It seems easy, ideal actually, to have that one true love that you stay with through thick and thin.

No one I know really wants their children to marry young. Finish college first. Then be out on your own for awhile. I am guilty of wanting the same thing for my children. Yet we want them to find that one true love that they stay with for their whole entire life like our grandparents did. It’s not practical.

Last week, Paul and I ran into an acquaintance who told us she just got divorced after over 20 years of marriage. Right now I can think of only one other couple we are close friends with that are on their first marriage and have been married longer than us. That is sad.

Something is broken in our society and I don’t know how to fix it. The only thing I can do is be a good example of marriage.

But sometimes I feel like my marital bliss is smacking the faces of those who failed.

Ha ha, I finished the marathon but you dropped out of the 5K. Is that how they view us??

It’s hard to get good marriage advice. It’s just as tough as getting good parenting advice. Sometimes I feel like people are giving me marriage advice similar to parenting advice…they tell me how to raise toddlers when I have teenagers. I am beyond those years now. I want something meatier than just make time for each other or communication is important. I’ve searched, but haven’t found. Good luck, you’re off the charts now. After 20 years, how do you take it to the next level??

My cousin wants to move into my house to be closer to her children. How can that be a bad thing?

But then the biggest blizzard ever recorded in over 100 years hit the weekend we were supposed to show my cousin our house…BLIZZARD EVELYN!!

Is this some sort of sign?? Did we invoke the wrath of Evelyn?? Is someone else supposed to buy our house?

Evelyn, I don’t care if I sell my house to a bunch of satanists as long as I sell my house!! Okay, I may be exaggerating a bit. But weren’t you when you dumped all of that snow on us?

Now if we get another snowstorm this weekend when we rescheduled the visit with my cousin, I am really going to start worrying.

Maybe the whole thing is a coincidence, but it all seems rather bizarre.

Or maybe I’m reading it all wrong.

Maybe it’s a sign that we should move to Florida.

Personality strengths

A couple of months back, my daughter Angel was reading a book about personality strengths. I hinted that the book would make a wonderful Christmas gift idea for you know who. I was happy when I saw the CliftonStrengths book wrapped up under the tree for me.

My daughter has some amazing strengths…Woo, Communication, and Positivity to name a few of her top strengths..Compared to her, my top strengths probably make me seem like I am serial killer material.

I took the test online. It asked questions like..Do you focus more on your strengths or your weaknesses? Do you calm or excite people? Hmmm, interesting. It took a lot of thought, but you weren’t given a lot of time to answer the questions.

Here are my top 5 strengths:

  1. Restorative
  2. Achiever
  3. Deliberative
  4. Analytical
  5. Intellection

Restorative is the desire to take things apart, find the problems, and fix them. Problem solving…I am a fixer. I love giving advice. It drives my family insane. I am not a big listener. If someone comes up to me with a problem, I immediately start to work on solving it for them. Sometimes I help people, sometimes I annoy them.

I am very deliberative. It usually takes a long time to make a decision. I look at everything from all angles and can see forward into the if and then of the decision making process. I am very analytical in recognizing when patterns change or are off in any way. I can see all of the minute little details.

When I was younger, I wanted to be a counselor. It was big on my heart to fix broken people. I learned over time that I couldn’t fix people. The problems with people were glaring to me. I felt critical…if only you would change your path…if only you would stop hurting yourself. I just wanted to fix all of the broken people and take away their problems. It is probably a good thing that I didn’t end up being a counselor.

I am a big time achiever. I have to feel like I accomplished something every single day. I am not calm. I cannot relax. I cannot sleep in. I can’t take a day off to do nothing. I want to be a calm person. I fantasize about living a carefree life. But the drum of the taskmaster beats steadily in my head and I live with it. I get shit done. I am happy that way.

I am an intellectual. This strength for me also includes a lot of time spent in introspection. I think, think, think all of the time. The gears in my head always keep grinding.

I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve. People don’t flock to me like I am the next best thing to whatever their best thing is. I am okay with that. I don’t need to be liked or even to feel popular for my well being. I don’t give a hoot about what people think of me. I would rather have deep conversations than talk to you about superficial fluff any day.

Let’s be honest…I am happy to be me.

On casting the first stone

This weekend something happened to me that caused my blood to boil. I felt furious enough to punch someone.

Saturday morning I did a 12 mile run outdoors. It was a lovely fall day that drew many people outside on bike, foot, and car.

As I was running mile 7, I saw a lady about 10 years older than me walking in front of me with her unleashed dog. A car was coming towards us in our lane. There weren’t any cars in the opposite lane. The lady in the car did not move over or slow down for the dog or the walker. After she passed them, she veered in my direction. Then she quickly swerved back into her lane as she sped by.

I was really upset and complained to the walker about crazy psycho drivers. I slowed down to walk next to her. I didn’t think I could run past her without her dog chasing me. After petting her dog a couple of minutes and venting my rage, we introduced ourselves.

The walker told me of a man that ran by her house all of the time. She thought perhaps I would know him. She said that she started seeing him many years ago and that he lost a lot of weight. He always runs with a beagle dog that, although old, never seems tired. And on and on she went about how wonderful the strange man was…

Maybe I know who he is?? Yes, he’s my husband!

When I got back home, I told Paul about his secret admirer. I told him that I had a conversation with her after our run in with a careless driver.

Paul gets very upset when I tell him about my close calls out on the road. I’d like to say that it doesn’t happen very often, but it does. It makes me even more enraged when people do not move over or slow down when there are animals or children on the road.

Paul said that he had the perfect solution. He said that I should carry a rock while running. If they almost hit me, I should take the rock and chuck it at their car. Perfect!

Forget the mace and rape whistle! My biggest threat isn’t from dogs or the creepy guys that cat call as they drive by. My biggest threat is from the psycho drivers that almost run me down as they speed by. I was even wearing my ‘honk if you’re going to hit me’ shirt. But the words are on the back of the shirt, not the front. My bad!

Carrying around a rock was Paul’s best idea ever. It seemed out of character for him to give that kind of advice. He regretted his words immediately after uttering them.

What if your hobby of running gets you in trouble with the law?? What if they get out of their car and beat the crap out of you?

Seriously, who cast the first stone?

**Honey, if you are reading this…Not to worry, I probably won’t start taking your advice anytime soon.**