Between 2 - Zumba

            I used to be a dancer. Take note I speak of this in the past tense. That is because I think my Zumba class may kill me.

            After my weight loss of sixty pounds last year, I was into the idea of tightening up the loose skin. I bought a small exercise machine. Like most everyone else that is not a model in an infomercial I found that the machine makes a really good coat rack.

            I have come to the conclusion, and it didn’t take long to get there, that I hate exercise. The firm conviction I had to exercise daily at home quickly turned into a mere twinkle of intent. So, I changed my strategy. I thought if I had to request time off, to get to class on time – and then ‘pay’ for a class, perhaps I would be more dedicated or at least reluctant to skip out on the exercise routine.

            I got the permission. I signed up for the class. I paid the fee. I’d like to say, “I went. I saw. I conquered.” I can’t.

I pant and sweat trying to keep up with an instructor that thinks she is auditioning for her own infomercial and a classroom full of students a third my age.      

And the horror of the mirrored room, I have the coordination of a two year old and the grace of an elephant. My lose thighs flap like flags in a breeze and my upper arms move like jello on a kid's table during Easter Sunday dinner.

            Am I discouraged? In a word – Yes!

            Last night I was late to my writing group because I had to attend the Zumba class first. I sat down at the table with my writer friends. Them with their fish and chips, spaghetti and meatballs, and French dips - me with my ‘half’ Caesar salmon salad and iced tea. I’ve gained three pounds since starting the Zumba class. They say muscle is heavier than fat? Can I count on that?

            I contemplated that information and decided to face up to the truth – I am not a dancer. I am a writer. At which point I did not give up, rather I gave in to a hot chocolate with a shot of Bailey’s topped with whipped cream. 

            Like Scarlet, “Tomorrow is another day.” In my case, filled with Zumba until the 10 weeks are up – then I’m back to the computer and doing what I know I do best, writing.

Between2 - Moving on

Dad has been with brother Jeff for the past two weeks.

I lost myself this past few weeks going through mom’s stuff. I hated the process of trying to decide what to do with her things. Every time I would think of getting rid of something I would hear her voice in my head telling me not to ‘just throw things away’ when she was gone. They were worth something. Well, they are not worth anything unless someone wants them.

I finally gave her doll collection to a woman for free, just to have them go to someone that would appreciate them like mom had. Her records went for resale. Some short legged, stout lady will find a very nice selection of clothes at the local Salvation Army, and some children will enjoy the collection of giraffes I gave to the local nursery school. It has taken me since April to go through it all, but I now think I am past the major part of it.

Paper was always mom’s passion. Paper boxes full of greeting cards went to Snowcap for children to cut up and make other greetings and pictures for their parents. I actually sold some old programs to 60’s events online to nostalgic folks.

The assembly of Cracker Jack toys went to my brother along with the antique lamps and vases to his wife.

When dad and I went through the Christmas decoration we ended up giving eight paper boxes of decorations to the Salvation Army. He didn’t want to keep the gold angel, Santa or tree skirt. He liked my greens and reds more. I also found her stash of candles during Christmas and a box big enough to light downtown Gresham during a power outage went to the Goodwill.

So with dad contentedly off with Jeff, I took the opportunity to get away from the things nagging me at home and go up to the lodge in Stevenson. I hadn’t managed that in over a year. I needed to find my smile again. I lost it somewhere over this past ten months.

All my old friends were still there. Andrea’ had moved from managing the lodge for Angus to owning her own shop - a’ Boutique. I started spreading around my tourist money at her shop. Bought a lovely cuff bracelet in memory of mom – it has lily of the valley flowers on it and says ‘honor, humility and hope’ inside. Hope – that’s my motto. Found a handmade resin and feather barrette for Sarah. She house sat for me and fed Jewel – the cat.

Next stop was Bloomsbury’s to see Bonny - bought some small things there, cards, candles.

Lunch was terrific as usual at the Big River Bar and Grill. Joe’s place is always cozy and warm. (I stopped by there the next night for dinner so I wouldn’t miss his Crème’ Buele. It is a must at least once a trip.)

The last stop was at Duck Soup to see Rita. She got the majority of the tourist money. She had hats at 50% off. I have never met a hat I didn’t like, so I walked out with four. A sporty ‘news boy’ in grey with black appliquéd roses – very jaunty, a grey homburg with the brim down over one eye, a red wool pillbox with a graphic black cord design on one side, and finally, a deep purple bowl type hat with decorative stitching and a black rose on the brim. As I said, I LOVE hats!

Lauren was there to welcome me to the lodge. My room was as I left it, but with the addition of onsite wifi – nice new amenity.

Angus, the lodge owner and a dear friend, came home this morning from his ski trip to Colorado. I am afraid I greeted him with, ‘sorry I didn’t make it up this past summer – mom died in April, dad had gallbladder surgery in July and I had to have the cat put to sleep in August.’ I didn’t know until that fell out of my mouth that my life sounded a lot like a bad country music song title.

Hopefully, 2012 will be a better year for this Snyder.

Between2 - Nip it in the bud

Every time I have my holiday leave from work I notice things about the folks that slip by when I am not there 24/7. Just coming home at night after a full day at work, fixing dinner, getting pills ready, bathing, etc. does not give you much time for observation.

I remember the year that I noticed mom had experienced a stroke. Her speech was a bit slurred and her memory loss was more exaggerated.

This season I noticed how much dad has aged since mom’s death. He has become my ‘Jiminy Cricket.’ He is my conscious, my 'remembery.' He insists on giving me directions to places I have been driving to for years. 

He wants to remind me, or be reminded of, what we are going to do the following day. He wants a blow-by-blow description of what I am doing in the other room.

I don’t know what has caused this. Perhaps it is because he was in charge of mom’s world for the last few years and that sense of responsibility for someone has been transferred to me. Perhaps he is getting forgetful and wants to reassure himself of the details of the day and how to get there. I just do not know, but I find it a bit irritating. It is like having a backseat driver with you whether you are in the car or not.

Whenever dad and I would get in one of these conversations, particularly the one’s concerning directions, I felt like I was in a bad rewrite of ‘Who’s on First.’ Dale experienced several of these encounters between dad and me. He would whistle and act like he was ignoring the confrontation. The one we had over New Year’s Eve dinner was so confusing to me that Dale and I both looked at each other as though Dad were out of his mind – which I think he was as the time.

I believe I will consult with the counselor from Hospice before this goes too far. We need to nip-it-in-the-bud before it gets out of control, if at all possible.

Between2 - Having fun with Dale

We are having a fine time with Dale here. We have been doing the tourist thing and enjoying it all over again – seeing it through his eyes.

Today was the first sunny day since he arrived. I got everyone whipped into gear and we took off for breakfast at Multnomah Falls. It was delightful. We sat in the great room looking up at the falls as we consumed our omelets and hash browns. I know, far off my diet, but I will get back on it in less than four days. Until then I am not going to worry as long as I hold my own – so far so good.

However, tonight will be the test. Tonight we ring in the New Year at Salty’s on the Columbia River. Dale has never been there before and I think we will all find it a pleasant experience.

I am going to wear that little black dress that I was not able to wear in Kansas when I went. I am determined to wear it before I shrink out of it. There was not a ‘dress up’ place available in Dale’s small town in Kansas, so this is my last chance. I am sure it will not fit in another couple of months when I have lost the last 20 pounds and tightened up with my new trainer.

We intend to spend a quiet New Year’s Day tomorrow. The guys want to watch the football game on the television since Oregon is in the running. Then we will most likely catch a movie and dinner out.

We have been movie watching fools. I have had plenty of time sitting in the dark with Dale. We have seen Hugo in 3D and the new Sherlock Holmes film. Tomorrow’s plan is the new Mission Impossible film at the living room theater in Vancouver. Dad and Dale have never been there and I think it is very cool – seats with footstools and they serve lunch while you watch the movie.

No set plans for Monday. We had been hunting for a hanging lamp for dad’s bedroom to complete the western theme in his ‘man cave,’ but we found that two days ago in a little collectibles shop in downtown Troutdale and Dale helped dad hang it yesterday – looks really good. It looks like one of those old kerosene lamps that used to be in the bars or boarding houses in the 1860’s.

So we will see where our last few days lead us. Perhaps we will just rest and watch more DVDs at home.

Merry Christmas!

Wishing you and yours a very merry Christmas from the Snyder's home to yours.

Between2 - A good time was had by all

This past weekend found dad and me deep in the throws of Christmas celebration.

Friday night we had the neighbors over and got to meet her new intended. He seems like a really nice man and I wish them the best. We had a delicious dessert even though it was sugar free to accommodate my diet. Can’t beat razzleberry pie from Shari’s.

Saturday was the department party at our house. We had a record turnout – only two people didn’t show. There was food galore and stories to match. We had a white elephant exchange. My Jews harp generated several trades. The two pounds of chocolate that I chose was quickly taken out of my hands by one of the students. I ended up acquiring a clock/weather station for dad that one of the students brought. He won it at a lan party and didn’t want it. Dad had been hinting for one from Cabela’s. Lucky daddy.

During the party dad took a short break and went to a function at church – a widower’s and widow’s dessert. He said he met some nice ladies. I hope he continues to get out and mix it up.

At 6:00 pm I kicked the last two students out so I could get ready for another dessert date at 7:00.

You might think we pack a lot into a day, but dad and I both enjoy visiting with our friends in twos and threes rather than having a big party. During a large party I always find myself stuck in the kitchen and then have guilt trips about having inadvertently ignored someone I should have spent time with. Dad had real trouble hearing people and keeping track of a conversation in a large group. When we have tea, lunch or dessert with each person we have a good rewarding visit. It does make for a full schedule though.

On Sunday I went down to the Heathman for tea with another friend. It was way too expensive, but the atmosphere was nice and the food was good. I guess once a year a person can splurge. It was a non-stop gabfest for two hours. Good thing the hotel had another seating after ours or we would probably still be there.

I was home for just about an hour and the next company showed up for dessert. Good thing I hit the sugar free bakery on Saturday morning. Dad and I had a really nice visit with Cindy. I gave her all the scarves I ran across while sorting through mom’s things. Cindy is about the only person I know who never goes anywhere without wearing a scarf. She appreciated that I passed them on to her.

So now we are settled into the last week of school before the Christmas break. The shop is full of bookstore packets and syllabi up to our eyeballs.

I am going to treat the students to pizza on Thursday for Christmas. I wrote a special note in a card for each of them to tell them how much I appreciate them and their help.

Dad and I are counting down the days until Dale arrives – just three now. I spoke with him this morning when dad was preaching doom and gloom for the weather in Kansas. Dale said the weather was fine where he was and the prediction was sun for his travel day – Saturday. I have my fingers crossed that the weatherman is right for a change and he arrives on time.