It’s a beautiful day

Well, Sunday was.
Saturday? Not so beautiful. The weather was dreary.
My ‘weather’ was very dreary on Saturday as well….I spent the entire day in the house and accomplished next to nothing. (by my standards)

But Sunday?
Gorgeous outside.
And thank.the.good.Lord. My ‘weather’ had improved.
The sky was bright.
The wind was blowing.
The temps were delightful.
Garden trimming.
Garden weeding.
Garden feeding.

My mini iPad takes decent pictures.

Since I had lazed around SO much on Saturday….I had enough energy reserved for more good stuff.
Car washing.
Car vacuuming.
Garage cleaning.
Lanai cleaning.
Gave myself a manicure.
DVR watching.
Dinner with my peeps. (all four of us in the same room, at the same time!)

A lovely day.

Cocoa: I want in.
The felines: we want out.
It’s always an uproar around here….even on a beautiful Sunday.

I wish for all my peeps at least 3 or 4 of my past Sundays in their next week.
Happy Monday. Wishing you ALL the best!


Just me and my old people

I was laying on the floor, one arm slung across my wet face, my heart pounding, all my parts were sweating profusely when I heard:

I hope you’re having a great day!

This happens to me all the time now.


Because I joined an old people gym.

Ok, that is not the official name of it, but it is what I call it.

Surely you don’t need me to explain why I call it that do you?

Hint: I might be the youngest person there.

And I like it.
Scratch that, I LOVE it.

The old people are so nice.
I like my old people.

And by old people, I mean people {30 yrs} older than me.

It’s a very small privately owned gym….and the people there are not trying to be pretty.
They are trying to be healthy.

A few weeks ago I walked into the gym and as usual every person there said HELLO.
I proceeded to get on the arc trainer; a nice ‘older’ lady was already huffing/working on one next to me.

About 15 minutes later she got off her arc trainer, grabbed her cane and moved to another machine.

Her cane…..and she wan’t moving very fast either. But she was moving nonetheless.

Well, if that doesn’t make me want to keep moving….I don’t know what does.

I love my old people.

They say nice things to you while you are laying on the floor dripping with sweat.

Old people are great.

I’m not so worried about getting there myself….and really, it could be next week for me.
Time is a’ticking!

Happy weekend my peeps. If you need me, I’ll be hanging with my old people.

If you found this post to be silly at all, just remember: 
I’m a 46 year old whippersnapper who’s been nipping the sassafras!!