wifemotherdaughtersisterauntcousinfriend

Love is not a loss of freedom, it gives it meaning.

Love is not a loss of freedom, it gives it meaning.
I have been waiting for days to blog, and just haven't gotten around to it. Maybe I too just needed to gather my thoughts. I keep hearing that, while reading other thoughts online. I don't know really. Originally this blog was untitled. I just want to write to solidify thoughts. I read quite a bit of Jessica, Robert's, girlfriend's blog, which I accessed through Roberts, through Tera's. Anyways, I use to be a rink rat at the Santa Fe, and I'm not saying she was one, but I knew her from there, but never really new her. I always wondered what ethnicity she was, she really is a beautiful girl. Anyways, I think I learned that she is German, her grandmother is in Germany, as well as some of her other family. I learned some things I might not have learned about her just talking to her, but I am inspired to talk to her all that much more. However, at the same time I feel like I just read, well I did basically read her diary. Although, she did put it out there to be read. Otherwise she would have written in a paper journal that she kept between her mattress and box spring. I thought their writing (Robert and Jessica's) was beautiful, and they seem to really be in love. Heck, they've made it past the year mark and are still together after the doubting season that I know Adam and I had to travel through before we were comfortable and ready to commit to each other for a lifetime. I just thought what I spent pretty much all afternoon reading was so beautiful. It reminded me of the letters between John and Elizabeth Adams, that I enjoyed from an American Literature class. I wanted a romance like that, someone to hold as my equal, that I could bounce ideas off of, and share parts of myself that I wouldn't share with others. I since have found that in Adam and it is so much more than what I even imagined.
Running has been extraordinary. I actually sort of took a rest day of sorts today. I walked 3 miles at a good pace, instead of running it. This should have been a scheduled day off, but I took one earlier in the week and felt like running today. I know rest is good, because it gives my muscles time to rebuild. I have mentioned this before, but I dread building muscle, because I know it will eventually turn to fat when I stop running. I am leaning toward walking after I complete my marathon, whenever that will be. I can still walk half-marathons, maybe even whole marathons. I swear that I read that you can walk the rock n' run in San Diego. Who knows? No, seriously if you know the answer to that question, please answer it for me in the comment section.
This is my final paragraph, we have gotten to know some acquaintances, that I am thrilled to be calling friends, and I thank God for them. You know God always seems to amaze me with His impecable (however you spell it) timing. O.K. as with many of my paragraphs the contents are not true to the theme of my paragraph. I am rambling and how do you ramble in proper paragraph form four to eight sentences to a paragraph, minus run-on sentences that I seem to be so fond of? Anyways, Victoria has a cold and she keeps telling me her nose is stuck. She introduced herself to a little boy at the park the other day and she said, "My name is VICtoria, but you can call me Tori, if you want." Sebastian doesn't want a haircut. I can't blame him he is so darn cute. I feel bad when people think we have two girls. In case you didn't know we have a girl and a BOY! Did you ever have one of those uncles that weren't really your uncle, but you still called them that, well my "Uncle Jim" who did actually use to be my uncle and I still think of him as one as well. He said, "Two girls," when I stopped to see him the other day while clocking mileage, when he was out in the yard unloading feed. Now that is someone I grew up with mind you that I don't see a lot, but I was a nanny for his daughter, my cousin's are his children, and I always send a Christmas card, and often a jar of my jelly or some other holiday concoction. Well, O.K. I didn't do anything last year, all of my addresses and everything else Adam I are entrusted with on this earth, was locked up in storage at Oceanview Storage in Harbor-Brookings, Oregon. I really miss that place sometimes. I mostly miss the people, but the scenery wasn't half bad either. Well, Sebastian just handed me a stuffed baseball and asked me to play hitball with him. He has a little velcro glove that rocks. I know he isn't really catching the ball, but it gives him the confidence he needs as a little tike, and it makes playing catch with him, probably a lot more fun. Oh, any game with a ball is hitball. I guess though it's always about HITTING a ball right, whether with a foot, hand, racket, or bat. I can't wait to see him skate, maybe he'll enjoy it and want to try hockey? I do love hockey. Well, for now I am off to play hitball with my son.

posted by MrH @ 5:54 PM