Here it is Sunday morning, and about all I've accomplished today is to mop the floor, clean a bit, and go to the gym. Well, perhaps that's not too bad for a long weekend. A little slacking now and then does the soul good, I guess.
I got to talk to the kids and the family yesterday, which was good. Max, my oldest, tells me school is boring. In some ways that's a good thing, as it means he's keeping up with the subject material, but on the other hand, I don't want him to be overwhelmed with work. Us smart guys have learned- balance is important. Life is more than academics and scholarly pursuits. Likewise, it's more than physicality, if that's the right word. Seek the middle ground, I guess. But I know he's an exceptionally smart kid, and I can say that apart from the fact that every parent thinks that about their kids. Actually, he's a reading fool, much like his old man, and seems to enjoy learning for its own sake. My daughter, Emma also displays the same intellect, but has inherited her mother's stubbornness. In many ways, this is not a bad characteristic to have, though it could go in either direction, like many things in life.
At any rate, tomorrow I'm debating whether or not to go running in the great wilds of the Wichita Mountains. I'd love to get outside, as I too feel like I've been spending far too much time bent over books. I managed to do quite a number on the muscles of my lower neck a while ago, so had been somewhat out of the loop. It was a little below the cervical vertebrae, where the vertebrae grow larger, between the shoulder blades. Hurt like hell, too. But having healed up, I think I'm ok now. This did prompt me to try and look into some new exercises, not entirely because the ones I was doing managed to tear a muscle, but the fact that it's getting repetitive as hell. I figured that mixing things up a little could only improve the situation. And, hopefully by working muscles in different ways, minimize the chance of injury.
In other news, there's really not much going on in Oklahoma. Same old same old, pretty much. I stopped by the old Impact Zone last night to shoot a couple games of pool, and boy did I need to clean the cobwebs out! I hear the Butterfly Lounge just off of post (a bar) holds regular pool tournaments too, but I'm really not that good, and would just as soon avoid bars. Call it superstition, I don't know. I don't like being called a recovering alcoholic, not that the term doesn't apply, but I never liked defining myself by a mental/physical condition. When I meet people, I don't say, Hi, my name's Jake, I'm a former mental patient, and I need to take medication to keep my brain chemistry from going out of whack, but oh yeah, I was voted Hunkiest Patient on South Ward... Why? Because I don't define myself as mentally ill, or alcoholic. (Why I was voted Hunkiest Patient remains a mystery to this day). That doesn't make either of those less true, but I regard them as incidental. There is more to life than what you can't do, after all. Like the things you can do.
I finally got around to checking my mail, as well, and got a letter from Max! He told me about catching some pretty righteous fish, and going fishing for catfish in the Connecticut River. That sounds pretty good, actually. There are probably some pretty decent channel catfish down there. I may just need to pay a visit to the local soul food place tonight, as all this talk of ribs and catfish has got my mind (and stomach) going in only one direction. Apart from that, things are about the same. I'm hoping to meet the new addition to the family, Daisy, who is a boxer, when I get back up to Connecticut. And I'll be sure to pack a couple sweatshirts, I'm sure I'll need them in the great cold North.
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