The Sounds of My Life

There's that strange quiet when a blanket of snow insulates the world. It's hard to describe to people who live where this never happens, but when it snows like this, when you step outside, your hearing actually changes. Then there is the plaintive cawing of crows ... and the singing of a Crow. Yes, singing while shoveling. I love him. 

O What a Beautiful Morning

This is what I see when I leave my driveway for a morning run in late summer--truly a joy-filled moment for me. I love to run toward the sun, whether it's rising or setting. I never grow tired of looking at that big ol' ball of fire hanging in the sky. It is always spectacular.

When I was a little girl, before I knew that I wasn't that coordinated or athletic, I used to run all over my backyard like a Banshee. I set up hurdles before I knew what hurdles were or that there were school teams who ran and jumped hurdles. I used my old kindergarten rest-time mat, picnic table benches, boxes, peony bushes--whatever I could to leap over. I would just run and jump, run and jump. I crashed into fences serving as finishing lines. I ran for the love of it.

I wish that someone had noticed this penchant and encouraged me to keep moving when I hit middle school and fell into that phase of inactivity and passivity to which so many teenage girls succumb. I wish someone at home or at school would have said, "Why don't you try this?" (Any sport).

To be fair, once I made the cheerleading squad, I was all about that. All other interests besides boys paled in comparison.

Still, I wish someone had talked to me about taking care of my body and appreciating what it could do when put to the test, and how good I'd feel when I accomplished a run.

I wish someone had said, "Cheerleading is great, but you can't do that the rest of your life. Tennis, swimming, running or golf, yes."

But that didn't happen, and I didn't discover again that I loved to run until I was about 32. Still, even at that "advanced" age, I was blown away by what my body would do when I asked it to "go to the next mailbox, next stoplight." Simply amazing.

Here I am at 49, still going, albeit slow and plodding. But I never feel more alive than when I'm running.

And there are two things in this life I NEVER grow tired of looking at: the faces of my children, and beautiful Indiana skies. I have so much to be thankful for!

Indiana: Home of the Donut Crime Sprees

New Castle, IN, is just up the road a-ways from me. You're going to be amazed at the crime in this story, but even more shocked and awed by people's unique enunciation, the moustaches and the clamoring to "say sumthin'" from the back seat of a car. The special effects in this video underscore the gravitas of this crime. This is the world in which I must live, people.



Also this month:

A man who worked at an Indiana Dunkin' Donuts asked his boss to loan him some money, or he might do something "stupid."

It was a no-go.

So the man crawled through the drive-through window and stole $2,342 while on video surveillance.

Following that stellar act, he was sentenced to three years in prison.

Hey. It's Indiana. It's deep fried. It's our kinda crime.