The sun was trying hard to soak up the low lying mist, and seeing it spatter patches of brightness on the hoar- covered bushes made me glad I was outside. (Hopefully there were no hoar-covered hoars on King George Boulevard, although they usually do hang their short little skirts on the street corners there - they would have awfully cold knees this morning.)
One part of the path was ice-covered, but unlike the 'pond' on Gun Hill, wasn't suitable for skating.
Winter colours aren't as pastel as Spring, or as green as Summer, or as brilliant as Autumn - but they are there nevertheless. Jack Frost sure did some delicate artwork on these leaves.
I was halfway home from Walmart when I realized I had forgotten the cat food. I would tell what I would have said at this point if I hadn't promised to give up swearing - for those of you who haven't read my Non Swearing Poem, I'll tack it to the end of this posting.After a 'light' lunch, I dragged Breehy out of her winter hibernation, and headed up to Central City. I figured I could get cat food at Zellers, and also spend the gift card Steve and Nikkie gave me for Black Bond Books. My heart was set on Dean Koontz's new book, Odd Apocalypse, as I have read all the previous Odd books. So off we go, up the hill, not doing too badly - until the muscles in my thighs woke up from their winter's nap and started complaining. I think they were my Rectus Femerises, according to this picture, but I would have thought they were my Quadriceps - on farther investigation, I find that the Quadriceps are actually a group of muscles, which makes sense, as it felt like a whole group sending WTF messages to my brain.
Just in case you're wondering, the above is not a picture of my legs. The picture below would be more accurate if you're wondering about muscle definition - it also sums up some of my plans for this year, which include zip-lining, horseback riding, and whatever other unusual endeavour ends up in my bucket.
Holland Park is still a bit in the Christmas Spirit, and the skies were so incredibly blue. What a glorious day this turned out to be. However, 3 hours later, I am still cold, and my legs are still sore. Poor me.And I thought, if I were to be a bird for a day, I would choose this day to be one. If I had to choose a winter day, that is.
And here is the parking lot at City Central - the only things that make it picturesque are the snow capped mountains in the distance. I was so ticked off when I found only one bike rack in the entire length of the mall - Surrey has miles of bike paths, but an utterly miserable number of places to lock on a bike. Maybe they want to encourage people to ride, but not stop.
I am so hungry. I can't remember the last time I was so hungry, thanks to all the Christmas goodies that passed between these lips. But I guess my 3 mile walk and then my 3 mile bike ride/walk combo has sharpened my appetite. I better have lost some weight by tomorrow morning or I may just give this all up.
- Breakfast - Toast and Coffee
- Snack - 3 Digestive biscuits. Biscuits with the word Digestive in their name must be healthy, even if they are coated in chocolate on one side
- Lunch - Spinach Salad from Walmart with half the Honey Mustard Dressing packed inside, and the last of the Banana Puddings.
- Snack - Banana
- Dinner - Chicken Breast, Seasoned Potatoes
- Snack - 1 (yes, ONE) Black Magic chocolate - the caramel one. There are 18 all together, but I don't have them hidden from the Man.
I'm not hungry any more.
And now - as promised - my Non Swearing Poem:
HELL NO I DON'T SWEAR NO MORE
When I was young I never swore
My mamma smacked me when, at four,
I lost a game of checkers and said ‘damn’
And so I learned to speak all nice
I didn’t want a slapping twice
And future curses I made sure to ban.
And then there came the waited day
When I grew up and moved away
And that is when I learned to swear real well
My friends and I would let ‘em rip
Enough to make my mamma flip
And pray I wouldn’t die and go to hell
In school, as teacher, I’d refrain
And censor these words from my brain
But when at home again they’d all arise
Until I had my kiddies three
And since they learned their words from me
I’d have to put my swear words in disguise
Like jeepers, fudge it, darn it all
And cripes, and shoot – incredible –
They never worked well if I stubbed my toe
But I held strong, until one day
My kids grew up and moved away
And once again my words began to glow
But now my children bring their young
And say, hey, mamma, bite your tongue
Don’t let my babies learn to talk like that
So once again I clean my speech
And when I say that life’s a beach
You’ll know I’ve got the proper words down pat
The wise folk say when we grow old
Our brains get covered up with mould
Which eats the part that tells us ‘don’t do that!’
So watch out, people, when I’ll talk
My words will make a sailor balk
And make a pretty interesting chat.
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