LifePundit

The Treadmill Desk

Here's my new desk. It's the brownish-tannish board clamped down on the arms of my Christmas present from Paul (I asked for it: one should not receive a piece of exercise equipment unless one asks for it). He really struggled building this desk. I can write with no trouble at 2 mph, but it's difficult to use the mouse because my hand is moving. For a while I was having trouble getting a little bit seasick while I walk because apparently there's a little bit of waddle thrown in with the walk. If you notice on the left wall there's a small calendar there. I get a gold star for every day I walk. It's called an Honesty Calendar, and I've found I'll do anything for a gold star. No, rather, I'll do anything to have a calendar filled with gold stars and no voids. Or few voids.

Here's a better photo of the desk part. The colored fabric (blue) covering the clamps so as not to scratch the treadmill arms is VetWrap (also called CoFlex), which is used to bandage horses. You can't very well use sticky tape on a hairy leg. The desk can be removed so other people can use the treadmill. I find that I while I can write creatively and sometimes answer e-mails and talk on the phone on the treadmill, I'm not so good at blogging, so blogging has been light.
I'll try to add that to my treadmilling skills, but forgive me in advance for the typos. Can't walk, chew gum and spell right at the same time.

I feel better and I'm getting a lot of writing done. But the poor dog isn't getting to go on as many walks. Better go take him now before it gets down to 10 degrees or whatever awful thing it's supposed to do tonight. He and Tiger get to sleep inside. Izzie, the indoor cat, won't like that. Ah me. It's kind of like the Middle East, only I'm in charge and I say that the dog and outdoor cat get to stay. So there.

Off to walk outdoors. What a concept!

My Job is to Make You Feel Good About Christmas

So far, Christmas is upside down. No matter what you haven't done for Christmas, you're ahead of me. I've bought three gifts. One for the piano teacher, and two joke gifts for friends I met for dinner.

The only signs of Christmas at our house are a festive vinyl tablecloth (the real ones are in the attic), a Wal-Mart "seasonal" bouquet and the Christmas cards we've received from the friends who haven't given up on us.

Our tree isn't up. (And will be right-side-up.) No wreath on the door. There's just a warm spot under the bed where I've been hiding, curled up in a fetal position. That's it.

Paul is STILL working every day and night on his office. They moved this week. Sort of. The office still isn't finished, Paul doesn't own a desk (he was using his former landlord's desk), and the cube assemblers are still assembling. Cube assembly is the only job Paul has discovered he can't do himself.

You say Christmas is one week away? Well, at least it's not tomorrow.

We'll get the tree up this weekend (except that Paul and I both have bad colds, Lily's just now off crutches from a horse fall -- nothing broken -- and he's so worn out I hate to ask him to help do anything). We'll go Christmas shopping or maybe send gift cards from Amazon to out-of-state relatives. It's just one of those years.

I did buy Christmas cards in a moment of misplaced optimism. Get this: Did you know that Wal-Mart has a section for Christian Christmas cards? That did make shopping handy-dandy, but I found this odd. Do they have a section for Jewish Hanukkah cards?

And I'm looking forward to cooking Christmas dinner because it's going to be different. I'm using the Silver Palate's recipe for lobster bisque, Paul is murdering the lobsters, and we'll have good bread, a salad and tiramisu (Lily's request and she'll probably make it) for dessert. That feels lavish and simple all at the same time. I'm just sorry that there won't be leftovers to live on for days afterwards. Oh well.

My wicked MiL is coming, but we've set boundaries on for how long. (Right. Boundary trampling is a sport for her.) And then I'm going to visit my mother, who, with any luck, will know who I am. Or, even more importantly, will know who she is.

I won't let Paul put the icicle lights up anymore. They do look pretty on our porch but, no lie, one year I couldn't get them down until July. Never again.

So all you smug Internets who've been ready for Christmas since the day after Thanksgiving, good for you. My wish for Christmas is that we'll get the decorations down before July.

Spring is ... Brown!

Here's a tablecloth I didn't buy at Bed Bath & Beyond. It was the most cheerful they had short of something too cheerful such as you'd find on a beach in the Caribbean. Somebody with style and imagination could make this one look all springy and serene, but not me.

I'm grateful for what we have, I honestly am. We've been eating off the same Villeroy & Boch everyday china since we got married in 1985. Every day we use it for every single meal and I think I cook and we eat at least six times a day. It's lovely, really, and very durable. We've broken very little. I'm truly grateful and am wondering if it's going to outlive me, which would be fine. It's discontinued. So am I. And I'm glad to have it -- really I am. Here's a photo:

Yes, this pattern looks springy. But I've been looking at these springy plates for close to 23 years. They don't look springy anymore. They look like plates. I don't think spring when I see them. I think, "Uh oh. Don't know what's for supper. Again."

But now it's spring. And I'd like to look at something different. I know I could go out and buy a box of cheap fun china from somewhere (like I did in grad school) and have a change of pace, or at least something different to look at, but I can't write about people starving to death one day and then write about how I'm bored with my plates and so I bought new ones (that won't hold up as well) just because I could. (Plus where do you put it all? Send my existing everyday china to Somalia to make room?)

But I can justify going out to get a fresh new, non-stained, colorful spring tablecloth. I'll take vinyl. I'll take cloth. I don't care. Just give my eyes a break. So I went to the mall and I'm here to tell you that spring has sprung -- and it's brown.

I like brown. But not for a spring tablecloth. Target also had wimpy green, sophisticated black and white, an understated soft blue-green that matches the Albertina, and a navy ikat. And lots of brown. Brown, brown and beige. Is it fall and nobody told me? Here's a very pretty table runner that would clash with my plates, but I'd buy it anyway. Except it doesn't look springy.

If you want colors you have to  get vinyl outdoor tablecloths, but I don't want to have to wear my sunglasses at supper. I'm all for garish -- outdoors.

All things considered, if all I have to complain about is that I can't find a tablecloth I like, life is good. Really good.

Hope it is for you, too. Happy Brown Spring!