
As I write this, it is 8:30 on Sunday morning, though it will be Monday by the time this reaches either of my regular readers. Thus far today I have completed a fairly taxing workout that mostly comprised of doing lots of press ups (to anyone from outside of the UK, the ‘press up’ is very similar to the exercise known to the rest of the world as the ‘push up’. The main difference is that the ‘press up’ has slightly better manners) and lots of kettle bell swings. I read somewhere that if you just do those two exercises, you can achieve a full body workout. I have no idea if this is true, but I find it works up a sweat and frankly I like the simplicity. I do it three times a week and I also currently go running 3 times a week (Monday is my designated ‘rest day’ because Mondays are quite bad enough without subjecting myself to additional pain) and the net result of all this exercise is that I feel quite tired most of the time. Having completed my workout, I then undid all of the good work by eating lots of bacon and some croissants (I like to call this breakfast ‘The Full Franglish’). My life is full of these contradictions and depending on the criteria one uses, I might be described as in pretty good shape or in dreadful shape. I’m currently drinking my second coffee of the day and I already know it won’t be my last, but I will still be perplexed when I can’t get to sleep tonight. I did try embracing decaf coffee for a while last year. I even treated myself to some really expensive decaf to try to lessen the pain. It was nicer than normal decaf, but sadly it was still much less enjoyable than the fairly bog-standard caffeinated coffee I mostly drink. In the end I decided that life is too short to drink decaf, although one could make the case that my life might end up being considerably shorter because I frequently make decisions along those lines. My flirtation with alcohol-free beer was short-lived and best forgotten.
You won’t be aware, but three hours have passed since I wrote that first part. It’s 11:30ish as I begin this bit of a post that is quite possibly not going to be about anything. Little Proclaims objected to me attempting to write while I was also supposed to be playing with her. She overcame this problem by using my laptop as a designated play area for her toy animals. It’s quite hard to write while a small plastic giraffe is making itself at home on your keyboard. So I discarded my writing and took Little Proclaims out for a jaunt. She had a nice time and I am strangely covered in mud now. Indeed she had such a nice time that when I decided that we should come home, she objected quite vociferously. I was not to be turned so she called out for her mummy. Loudly. All the way home. Ironically her mummy was in the very place that she objected me taking her to. Still, the result of her pleading was that I was able to hand her over to her mummy upon our return and thus have been able to write this bit of the post without a plastic giraffe impeding my efforts.
I’ve just had a week off work, because last week was half term. One might think, with the schools all being closed, that life as an educator has been relatively easy of late and I didn’t need a week off. Nothing could be further from the truth and though schools remain closed I am very much dreading my return. Indeed I can’t wait until schools reopen properly so that I can get back to disliking my job on terms that I understand. Half term was also far from relaxing, because Little Proclaims manages to make even passive activities like watching TV into highly stressful affairs. But if looking after my daughter is not restful, it’s usually pretty good fun. Even when she’s screaming in public places for the parent that isn’t me.
Anyway, although it will be Monday when this post hits the blogosphere, I still have a few hours left of Sunday to enjoy. I can hear my wife and child coming down the stairs to join me for lunch. It will be a relatively healthy lunch, but when Little Proclaims and I were out, we did buy some chocolate chip shortbread, so there will be ‘lunch dessert’. Life is always better when there is ‘lunch dessert’.
I love “lunch dessert.”
My daughter teaches fourth grade and her class has been online for the whole time. She often works from here and I get to hear some of the joys and, er, less than joyful moments. So, no matter what people say, I know that being a teacher online is not a barrel of monkeys, although that may be easier to deal with sometimes.
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I’m no expert on monkey barrels but they sound quite difficult to me
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Maybe it’s an American colloquialism, “more fun than a barrel of monkeys?”
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I suspect it’s more widely known but we’ll go with the Americanism to spare my embarrassment
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lolol!
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It is a relatively charming post, however I do think we should have heard what the giraffe had to say.
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That giraffe has far too much to say…
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Well, we can be happy only as long as he can still hold his head up high.
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We had pancakes for Lunch yesterday. We were all feeling a bit lazy on Tuesday, so we had “Shrove Sunday” instead 😉
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I think we should have “Shrove Everyday”
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I like that idea 😀
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Post lockdown I plan to open a bistro that serves meals that are free from food. The USP will be that you will lose weight until you become life free. I have got Gwyneth Paltrow lined up to endorse it. You heard it here first.
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Sounds like you’re onto a winner but it’s probably not my cup of tea. Because I’d rather have a cup of tea.
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I’ll drink to that……………oh no, that was……never mind…….cheers!
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Don’t stop on my account
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Normally I would adamantly decree that the rest of the world was messing with the English language, but to be honest, push up does make more sense. Unlike kettle weights – which look nothing like them and do not boil water (or indeed cook fish). I have just put heavier weights on my barbells and I can’t now get them out of the box. This comment was scheduled three weeks ago.
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That seems like an omen to leave the barbells alone.
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Possibly. Although if I don’t use them my wife will insist I put them away and that will involve carrying them so much further…
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This is a charming post as indicated but you must remember what Mr.Ohh! has always said. “Life is too short to drink, decaf, or cheap beer, and dance with ugly women. And “Exercise may not kill you but will make you wish you were dead. Whiskey might but at least you’ll enjoy the life you have.
Laugh a while See what happens
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You know, you can do all the things that you “should do” to live longer — like regular exercise, avoiding fast foods and alcohol etc — and even if you don’t live longer, it will definitely feel like you have. The outing with Little cracked me up.
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I’m all in favour of a short happy life. I may reconsider that position when the end draws near – but it will be too late to do anything about it by then…
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