I had tried "hot yoga" in Burlington a couple of times in a class that was referred to as "pre-beginner level."
Last winter I had signed up at the YMCA her in Venice and took a yoga class there two to three times per week. When a new yoga studio opened in the next town back in Vermont, I signed up for classes there. I spent a year doing basic, beginning level yoga. And I was feeling subtle differences in my level of flexibility and balance. Subtle as in pretty slow.
I thought that this winter, I would explore some alternative studios while in Venice. I saw a hot yoga advertised. Not hot yoga as in yoga poses done in a very warm room, but Bikram yoga. I had the feeling my progress would get a jump start.
Well, my flexibility will get a big boost or it will kill me. If you want a real laugh check out the poses that are used routinely in the Bikram practice.
Now that show what the ultimate goal might be--not what you are expected to be able to do in your first session or two. But the room is hot, and the routine is fast paced. You do what your body allows you to do. But it is intense. You sweat--copiously. Your heart rate revs right up. And it feels SO good--when it is all over after a 90 minute session and you have had a chance to take a cool shower.
I am fighting the loss of physical well being with ever fiber of my being.
Okay, I am not saying that this was in any way an easy thing, but I have started up the the wireless router supplied by Comcast for a modest rental fee and I have gotten it to talk to my computer, my printer, and with the TV to play Netflix.
So I am pretty darned proud of myself.
My Christmas Day was pleasant. I went to my neighbors for dinner--good food, good company, all good. Perhaps a smidge too much good wine, but all good.
I went to a ninety minute hot yoga class today to redeem myself.
My brother, his wife, their three dogs (lost two of the five in the past year), the two donkeys, and the dozen or so chickens spend six months in Vermont and six months in North Carolina. They all travel together bak and forth.
The have what I call hobby houses in both places--old houses that need restoration--and they do restore rather than renovate.
Their NC place is a former tobacco farm.
The original farm house.
A tobacco drying barn.
Original farm house and "new" house (white building).
The summer kitchen with new chimney.
We did venture into the Raleigh-Durham urban area to check out the NC Museum of Art.
My brother and sister in law.
It was good to see their winter place for the first time. Then on to Mike's daughter's in South Carolina.
I packed up the car and hit the road, heading south. I spent Monday with my daughter and grand kids and left from their house on Tuesday morning.
I will spend the night in a hotel in northern Virginia and then head to my brother's in North Carolina.
It looks like I might not outpace the storms that threaten the southeast this weekend, but I will give it a try.
The 500+ miles I put in today were relatively smooth, except for the mountains between Scranton and Harrisburg, PA. It rained and helpful signs (when I was right on top of them) informed me that I was in a fog-prone area. Right--might not have noticed otherwise.
Have they kicked out St. Christopher? The one who was supposed to protect travelers? I think I heard that some years ago. Well, my dad was not a saint, but he was a good driver. I have long conversations with him whenever I am driving any distance or driving in bad weather, and I definitely feel he is there watching out for me every time I am in a car. Thanks, Dad!
The storm warnings were well founded and we are sogged in with the heavy, wet, white stuff.
Schools were not in session and the snow plows were busy, busy, busy.
Housebound, I had time to finish my memory quilt. I used Mike's flannel shirts and denim to represent his jeans. It wasn't really that easy to work with, but it will be a cozy reminder for me on chilly evenings.
Accumulations: snow accumulation of 5 to 10 inches of heavy dense snow ... Up to two tenths of an inch of ice, mainly across mid level elevations of northeastern Vermont ... In fact, the weather in Florida is not that great, but I do note that there is no snow on the current horizon.
Elev 26ft27.05°N, 82.41°W| Updated 5 min ago
Wind from NE
Today is forecast to be MUCH COOLER than yesterday.
I went out to a movie on Friday night with a friend.
It was a 7:30 p.m. movie. I didn't even get home until 10:00. This is so exciting for someone who has been fighting the urge--and not always winning--to be in pajamas as soon as it is dark. Dark dark happens at around 4 p.m. around here at this time of year.
Not only that, on Thursday I went to a gallery opening in downtown Burlington. I went with friends and afterward we went out for something to eat. I didn't get home until 9:30 that night. And I dressed up to go out!
Two nights in a row! Out past dark! I might be turning into a party animal.
The movie was St. Vincent. I enjoyed it, thought it was quite touching in a way.
The little kid actor is not in the poster, but he was really the star.
The gallery show was well attended. I have mentioned the local artist, Dianne Shullenberger, and her work before. She made her recent, realistic pictures out of fabric bits and a sewing machine. It was being with good friends that made the evening though.
The day after Thanksgiving was always Mike's favorite day of the year. Absolutely NO eating of leftovers. Early on it was watching Planet of the Apes movies with his brothers and ordering in pizza. In more recent years it was an outing--maybe to Cedar Hill Cemetery or to the Wadsworth Atheneum.
That was just a preliminary sidelight to the main event as far as Mike was concerned. The main event was a trip to Hartford's Franklin Street, once the heart of the Italian section of the city. For Mike, it was pure nostalgia and real comfort food. Nothing says "Thanksgiving" like a salami and provolone grinder* and a bag of chips from Giant Grinder.
Then, on to Modern Pastry Shop for a box of assorted Italian cookies to bring home--or maybe gobble down on the trip back to Vermont.
Life changes. Established traditions change as well. We all have to work around that fact at some point. New traditions come into being and that is not such a bad thing. But we also want to preserve something of our pasts.
The day after Thanksgiving (which was actually very pleasant and not nearly as trying as I made it out to be in my previous post), I left for a trip to Connecticut. I joined Mike's sister and brother and families for dinner at an Italian family restaurant--Roma's in East Hartford, where they make the best eggplant parm I have ever tasted, on Friday night.
On Saturday my sister-in-law and I walked, talked, shopped, took in a movie, had a lovely salmon dinner, drank wine, and just had a good time together. I am sure that Mike was smiling down on my new kick off to the holiday season, although with a tear for the lack of a salami and provolone grinder (especially for it being replaced with eggplant).
And now, a week of diet and fasting and exercise.
*Grinder is New England for sub, hero, hoagie, etc. kind of sandwich.