Moving day

It's been a few days since the last post. Sorry, I've been preoccupied. Three of my four children are moving in the next few weeks and I'm going mental trying to keep up.

Not that moving is bad. Change can be exciting if you have a plan. Luke and Katie bought a lovely home, for instance, and moved across town. The problem here hasn't been the moving, but the re-discovery of boxes from one house to another.

How do you lose two boxes of linens when you are only moving 8 blocks from your original location? We still haven't figured that one out. We've all been using the same towels over and over since the day of the move (going on 3 days), because some how, the box of sheets and towels have mysteriously disappeared. It's hot and Steve takes two to three showers a day. After a while, sharing that one towel between us has meant that things are just a little less than fresh.

How does this happen?

We had one U-Haul truck, and one day to move. It's not like boxes have been shipped via US Mail, where you'd expect to lose a few things. Everyone who helped worked on moving things within a single 12 hour period, with one starting point and one destination. Plus, no one called the Goodwill to stop by in between.

Tomorrow is trash day. Luke and Katie are hauling sacks to the curb. I've been going through all the trash bags trying to make sure we've not accidentally thrown out $300 worth of bathroom towels. Surely someone has them in the back of their car (?).

Luke and Katie got an incredible house. It's the perfect spot in a great little town. Internet was restored today, making blogs and Facebook once again possible. It's easy to take things like clean towels and Internet for granted until you no longer have them. But at least we've all had a great place to sleep with great company. It's been a lovely weekend, the first of several with a lot of similarities.

Helmet head

No, this is not a special education helmet. This is me trying to overcome my sedentary life. The helmet is to protect me from myself.

Wait, isn't that the purpose of a special education helmet?

When I first came to Chattanooga I discovered its openness to outdoor living. Fitness trails are everyplace, bicycle paths winding in and out of neighborhoods, parks and towns.

Surprisingly, bicycle clubs are super popular here. But I'm not a "club" person. I'm not fond of social events or "get-togethers" unless they're centered around some activity or event. For this reason I might actually enjoy a bike club - only not the kind that wear leather jackets.

Since my family isn't here to entertain me, and I don't belong to a bicycle club, I decided to strike out on my own. I needed to do something away from the computer.

I brought my bike with me to Chattanooga this week. After work I've been riding through the neighborhoods, down the river paths and generally just snooping to see how this part of Tennessee lives. You can cover a lot more ground on two wheels than on two legs. I hoped by doing this, too see places up close.

I'm not disappointed. In the neighborhoods I look through windows as I pass the houses, smell pork chops cooking, catch the fragrance of fabric softener or freshly cut grass. Along the river I hear the cicadas and crickets, kids laughing and splashing in the water, see sail boats glide past along the shore. The wind in my face, the exercise, the sweat. It's all so wonderfully intoxicating, better than walking or running and far better than taking a nap.
Even if I do have to wear special headgear.

You know you're tired when...

--- you hit snooze for the 4th time and wonder why you even set the alarm

--- you leave for work wearing slippers

--- you're in the elevator but not sure which floor you're going to or which you're leaving

--- you're looking at the computer but don't see it

--- you're really not sure what you were just doing

--- you try to open the door to your building by repeatedly pressing the unlock button on the car remote

--- you hear the chime and see the yellow light on the gas gauge and wonder how the two are connected

--- you try to use your hotel room key on the room where you stayed last week

--- beer and TV sounds like a good idea

--- blogging is an effort

Snoopy Snob

Walks are a nice way to unwind. Seeing local places is also nice and very enlightening.

This is not my hotel. I like to snoop through the inside of hotels other than my own so tonight I took a little walk, right through the doors of Country Inn by Carlson, and up the elevator. I saw this hotel last week and thought it was cute. From outside it looks charming, complete with rocking chairs on the porch, and flower pots all over.

I walked through the lobby not looking at anyone. I walked over to the elevator and pushed the button. The door opened and I got in. No one was around. I noticed small cracks in the tile floor, and the slightly aged condition of the elevator. Traces of mildew tickled my nose.

Stepping on to floor 3, the top floor, I noticed a faint odor of smoke. I walked toward the signs that indicated a stairwell at the opposite end of the hall. As I walked down the stairs and stepped out onto the smoking porch I smiled, happy with my hotel snobbery. Rednecks greeted me as I walked through the doors.

This is why I always stay at Marriott or Hilton Garden. Smoke-free, no mildew, no red necks. Charming isn't enough to make a place feel safe, clean and free of leering bearded men in leather jackets.

Yogi's appetite

Yogi loves his dinner. He likes chicken bones, canned dog food, and cheese sticks. He even likes to eat hay, goat grain and cardboard boxes, especially those that have my name on it.

Yogi does not eat the mail man, the water man, or the lawn care people. He doesn't eat the neighbor's dog or chickens. Good thing or else he'd be toast.

He does have an appetite for mail, particularly packages. I used to have the mail carriers leave my packages on the porch. FedEx just knew they could always leave anything by the door and I'd get it when I got home.

Not any more.

I came home from the summer weddings to find that Yogi had eaten several letters, a check, and two boxes of health food bars - chocolate/peanut butter ones. Every now and then I find another wrapper, so he must still have a few of them stashed.

Who knows what else he's eaten, he doesn't always leave evidence. I've found traces of newspapers, feather dusters, plastic bottles and electronics. He does not eat the cats.

Two weeks ago I left a sign on the porch for mail carriers to leave packages in the truck. When I got home, Yogi had eaten the sign, and another package.

That's when I bought a bench. The bench has a seat that lifts to hide a storage area. I bought plastic letters that glue on so I could leave the mail carriers a message they won't miss when they walk up the steps.

When I got home on Friday I had three packages -- uneaten -- out of Yogi's reach, safely under the seat.














I'm trying to be smarter than this dog. It isn't easy.

Riverwalk thaw

I love a place that's fitness friendly. Someplace you can go and not feel like you're going to get run over while taking a stroll. This place in Chattanooga, down by the river, has a biking area, walking area, swimming area, and boating area. It's not far from my hotel or workplace and after 12 hours in a chair staring at the computer, coming here is a relaxing release.













There's a dam here and boat launch as well as a slip where dozens of boats are docked. It's not like Long Beach because there are no houses. It looks more like a state park, but it's not really that either. It's just a place for people to go after work.

The guy at my school, who's been here in the district 40 years, goes here every night and bikes 7 miles. I wish I had my bike. Instead, I walked here about 2 miles today after work, it felt so good to stretch and sweat.

Why do buildings have to make the air conditioning so icy cold? It took me 30 minutes of walking just to thaw out my legs and feet.

A nice thing about the terrain here is how it's just a little hilly. Close to the mountains, nothing is flat in Chattanooga. That's what I love the best, that, and the rocks.

Cherry-Oh

It's cherry season.

Cherries are not actually my favorite fruit but if you watched me consume an entire bag of them you never know that. They are definitely on my list of Five Faves.

My favorite fruit are peaches. I love to mix strawberries with ripe peaches (not the hard ones in the store right now), slice them all up and put just a tiny bit of sugar over the whole thing, to bring out the juice. It doesn't take more than a couple of spoonfuls for a large bowl of this mixture and it's so amazing. My mother used to make this, it's one of the few things she made that I remember liking really well.

I was so disappointed to find that the store peaches were rock hard yesterday, that I decided to explore other fruit I don't normally buy. There were some nice plums that looked to be tree ripened, and there were these Rainier cherries. I've seen these before and assumed from their yellowish color they wouldn't be very sweet. Wow, was I ever wrong, again. Proof that you can't judge a fruit by its color.

Rainer cherries have a completely different taste, are incredibly juicy and the pit is slightly smaller than the black ones.

Oh - I do love cherries, and now Rainier cherries are part of my Five Faves. I wonder if this means that raspberries automatically get bumped from my list Five Faves or if I can legally include them in the category of cherries?
Wait, it's my list. I can do whatever I want!