On & Off the Road

Yesterday, Scott and I received a delightful surprise!

We were engaged in our traditional Saturday morning routine watching HGTV DIY programs when the doorbell rang. This in and of itself is a rare surprise, and usually doesn’t occur too frequently in winter.

It was the postman, with a huge box! This box was addressed to “Eric & Scott Hays-Strom” (yup, that’s us) and came from a company called “Harry & David” in Medford, OR.

It’s loaded with delightfully juicy and delicious apples and pears, some crackers, nuts and Havarti cheese.

Now, here’s what’s embarassing: Nowhere in the package was anything identifying who sent it! The only note says

Merry Christmas

And so, to whomever sent it… Scott and I would DEARLY love to be able to thank you personally. Please, contact us (you have our email if you like, or you can comment here, call us… or something!

But if the anonymity was intentional, please accept THIS as our thank you.

Scott and I have some really exciting plans for this Christmas season… we’ll be "On the Road"… but can’t say where, yet.

Ask me anything

Not a lot.

Ask me anything

Ask me anything http://formspring.me/elstrom99

Today, I went to church for the first time in a very long time.

Wait!  What?!?  What did you say?  You’re always talking about church, Eric!

Let’s backtrack a little and provide some background information.

For several years, now – more than I can remember really – I’ve not really felt… right.  I don’t know how to explain it, other than I just haven’t felt “right”.  I have talked about it every visit with my physician for years now.  It seemed like I had a permanent low-grade headache.  But beyond that my something just didn’t feel right about my head.  It’s weird, I don’t really have the words to describe what it felt like.  I described it as best I could though… it felt like my brain had shrunk, and was banging around inside my skull.

At this point I should pause and say that any comments from the peanut gallery are unwelcome.

Anyhow, I told my doctor this.  And I always felt like he was looking at me like I was some sort of alien.  I would go home, and nothing was ever done.  I always assumed that he couldn’t really do anything because I couldn’t give him any concrete explanations of what was wrong.

On top of it all, I have always been tired.  I say always… I mean for the past 10 years, I’m always tired.  I fall asleep at work… to the point I’ve had to talk to my boss about it.  I fight it.  I get up, I walk around, I go outside for fresh air.  I sit down, I start working and before I know it, I’m asleep.  It used to be I’d sleep for like 5 minutes, and wake up refreshed and ready to go.  No longer… I don’t know how long I sleep but it can be long.  At home at night, about 8:30, I start nodding off, and sleep sitting on the sofa until Scott wakes me up so that we can go to bed!  I go to bed at 10:25, fall asleep almost immediately, and sleep until 5:25 when I get up, whether I want to or not.

And my mood has been so grim.  People, in general, annoy me.  The only one who can really talk to me without me feeling resentful of the interruption is Scott.  I scowl at people to warn them away (it doesn’t always work.)

I wonder how people I know can like me.  I don’t like me.  I wonder how Scott could still love me as grumpy as I’ve been for several years now.

And my memory?  What memory?  I can’t remember things that were said 3 minutes ago.  Important dates?  Nope, can’t remember most of those… my birthday, yes.  Scott’s birthday, yes.  Our various anniversaries?  yup.  The day Mom died?  Yes.  My brothers or my sisters in law or uncles, aunts, cousins birthdays?  No.  Pardon the language, but my memory is just utter CRAP!  I tell people I’ll do this or be there or… well, you get the idea… all forgotten before I get home.  Sometimes forgotten before the conversation ends.

And then, I went back to the doctor in early September and as part of our conversation, I went through this litany all over again, especially the sleeping at work part.  And this time I know he listened.  He sent me for a Sleep Study.  (It was a class I was sure I’d pass… I got plenty of practice!

A week later, I was called and told I needed to go back for another one, a follow up.  On October 15, I went in for this second sleep study, I had to be attached to this CPAP machine thing.

A week later, my doctor informed me I have Sleep Apnea.  This doesn’t surprise me, actually.  I’ve had problems with Apnea most of my life; during the day I actually stop breathing frequently.  My body forces me to breathe and I sigh deeply.  So after my very first sleep study some 5 years ago, it was a bit surprising I wasn’t diagnosed then with Sleep Apnea.  Now, I’m told that based on the results of that first sleep study, and compared to my recent 2 sleep studies, I’ve probably been coping with Sleep Apnea for 7 and a half to ten years.

The past Wednesday, I went to pick up my CPAP machine.  It now sits next my bed.  That first night, I managed to get through about 3 hours before removing my mask.  The second night, I made it until 4:30.  Friday night, not so good, I only made it 2 hours or so.  Last night I almost made it to the end of my sleep period… I pulled it off about 5:15.

And so, this morning, I went back to church… and it was like going someplace I haven’t been in a VERY long time.  I staid awake through the sermon… AND LISTENED TO IT!  I met an greeted my friends, sought them out even and hugged them all!  One or two I hugged multiple times!  One guy who always hugs me and I get downright nasty with – I made a point out of giving him 4 hugs today… kind of like I was trying to make up for all those negative reactions.  I loved the music!  I didn’t notice ANY mistakes (like I can judge – I can’t carry a tune in a bucket!)  I was happy to be there!

I don’t know if this turn around after 4 nights will be long lasting or not.  I don’t care (okay, I do) I’ll take what I can get!  That head thing?  Gone.  The headache?  Gone.  And only time will tell this week if I stay awake!

And for the first time in 7 or more years, I can say “It’s a GREAT day!”

First of all, before I begin this essay (I know not what else to call it) I wish to warn my reader(s) that it may be considered objectionable to many.  It discusses my personal views of sex, sexuality, sexual orientation and sexual activity.

I delve in to areas which more conservative persons, persons by the way whom I love dearly, my find highly offensive and which find root in what many may pejoratively describe as radical Christianity… a "radicalness" which may be just too "over the top".  I would encourage my reader(s) to proceed with caution, but with an open mind.  Should such a thing as a ratings system exist for blog writing or at least for this style of writing, it is highly probable that censors might consider this to be rated X, or at the very least, NC-17.  If you feel that your sense of outrage or offense may be too great, I encourage you NOT to proceed.

Secondly, what follows does not flow as well as I would like.  It is filled with "asides", comments made to flesh out what I’m writing about.

With that in mind, if you have the time, and more importantly the inclination and stomach, please read on!

*****
Over the past few weeks I have come across three or four related "items" on the internet that have either not set well with me, or have caused me to think… and that’s always dangerous!  I wish to address these "items" individually, and in no particular order.

Is Love Profane?

This morning, I was visiting a friend’s blog.  On it, I found a picture: two shirtless young men engaged in a sweet embrace, kissing; behind the young men hung a crucifix.  The picture was captioned "The sacred and the profane."  It gave me pause, for the caption bothered me enough that I actually looked up the adjective "profane" in the online edition of Merriam Webster’s Dictionary.  Looking under the usage for the adjective the first definition of the word does, indeed, fit the caption, and in and of itself really shouldn’t have caused me any reason for discomfort.

But, taken in the context of all 4 definitions of the word "profane" I find it far more difficult to dismiss my discomfort over the choice of words.  When viewed together the four definitions for "profane" certainly convey a negative meaning, as if somehow, unless something is imbued with religious or spiritual overtones (and is therefore "sacred") it is necessarily less than desirable.

I find the picture of two men, perhaps in love, perhaps not, but behaving in such a manner as to imply love to be perhaps far more sacred than the picture of a crucifix, the image of a person hated and despised and hung to die.  Perhaps the ultimate profanity is that image of a crucifix, while the ultimate sacred act is the two people in love.

If my readers are still reading this after that last paragraph, let me hasten to point out that the image of the crucifix portrays an extremely important event, one with perhaps the penultimate act of sacred-ness in our Christian tradition.  (And less you wonder, for me the ULTIMATE sacred act is the Resurrection.) It was a necessary event, but one that had to happen only so that the next event could take place.  This article is not to, in any way, denigrate the series of events that form the basis of most Christian theology, but rather to lament that we should find two people in love being somehow a profane thing.

How is it that we come to perceive demonstrations of love to be profane?  If one accepts that God is love, and that the primary message of the Gospels is one of love, both of God for humankind and also the importance, perhaps even primacy of the need for one to love one’s neighbor (and remember who Jesus said our neighbor was) is the portrayal of an action depicting love somehow less sacred?  Love, in this context, and in my opinion, is sacred and can in no way be profane.  (To my friend who may well read this, please do not read in my words a condemnation of you in any way – I think I know you well enough to know that you did not choose the word for its negative connotation, but rather for its primary use as "secular".)

Is Sexuality/Orientation Good or Bad?

Another of my online friends writes a blog which I attempt in some small way to support financially, as I consider it to be an important contribution to society.  This friend writes from a definitely non-mainstream perspective, and is therefore one of the most refreshing voices I currently encounter online.  Nor is she all that radical (sorry, Kitt!)  Perhaps to those of a particularly conservative Christian point of view she may be viewed as such, but I do not perceive her writing overly radical.  Just perhaps a bit… queer!

Kitt’s posts are all about, in my humble opinion, the extravagant, redemptive love of God.  One of her methods is to look for and write about saints that may be relevant exemplars of that love for the LGBTQI community.  Perhaps to my family, seeing articles about "Gay (or Lesbian) Saints" may be problematic, but these are highly relevant to those of us seeking to live and perceive ourselves in positive light in the face of a church that until recently has painted us in very negative light indeed.  Many of us (certainly not all) struggle still against the self hatred and self doubt imposed upon us by the churches of our childhood and youth, many of which today have taken up very active combat against us.

Yes, Kitt writes about LGBTQI Saints, and serves as a news source to us on the writings of theologians who write from a queer perspective or artists who depict things of a religious/spiritual nature in the rainbow lights of a queer perspective.

In the second "item" I encountered, a commenter to Kitt’s blog rebuked Kitt for writing about a particular, possibly lesbian, saint, and said, in summary, that Kitt should focus on the best of this saint – namely those attributes for which the saint in question was canonized – and not the worst of this saint – namely the possible orientation of the saint.  It is as troubling to me that one would perceive one’s orientation as being either the best OR the worst of a person, as it is to see a picture of two kissing lovers labeled in such a way as to elicit (at least in myself) a negative reaction.

We are who we are, by God’s Grace and by God’s gift.  God gave us all, straight or gay or otherwise, the gift of our sexuality, a gift to be used in many ways.  Sexuality was not given us merely to serve to create children, though in that service it is certainly beneficial and good… and indeed sacred.  Sexuality was also given us to nurture our love, one for another, and as a means of expressing that love… a service that is of no less (and of course no greater) value than that of procreation… and is therefore sacred. Sexuality also was given for our pleasure, and I see this as no less sacred.  I’m sure others can do much greater service to this discussion and add ways in which our sexuality can be put to use.

Can sexuality be bad?  No, I really don’t think so.  Can SEX be bad.  In general, again I say I do not think so.  There are, however exceptions to this latter.  For me, there is one single criterion for determining the "goodness" of any sexual behavior or activity.  Is the sexual behavior/activity mutual, entered in to with mutual and informed consent.  Here’s where the "slippery slope" argument loses, in my opinion.  It is often opined by some on the right that if society accepts homosexual marriage and behavior, where will it all end… they point to the requirement to then accept such things as bestiality and pedophilia and all manner of horrors.  And yet, none of these can be entered into on a mutually acceptable, informed and consensual basis.  I don’t really intend to develop this thought beyond this.  Maybe some other day.

There is, in short, to my way of thinking, no way in which mutually informed and consensual sexuality and sex can be used in a negative manner.

In fact, I should finish my reaction to this comment by saying far from being the worst aspect of this particular saints’ life, her sexuality is perhaps among the highest and best qualities of her life, that which makes her particularly worthy of emulation for those who identify with her.  For it is her devotion and love for the one who may have been her life-partner that is most worthy of emulation.

Queer Thoughts.

The final comment, that which is actually first in time of this trilogy of troubling experiences for me, also pertains to Kitt’s blogs, one which reports on new theological writings from a theologian in New Zealand.

Here, another "aside" is called for.  We find ourselves living in what many refer to as the "Post-Modern" era.  It is an era in which scientific study, discovery and theory have tossed out what has become for many of us a "comfortable" theology.  It is an era in which society is no longer homogeneous.  Our society is heterogeneous, we live amongst all sorts of people of all sorts of racial, national and religious backgrounds.  We probably include amongst our friends a varied collection of all sorts of peoples from all corners of the globe.  In reality, this post modern era with its focus on scientific discovery and theory makes it very difficult to reconcile our theology with what is known about the world around us.  Because of this, I tend to consider theology that serves to reinforce old, comfortable ways of thinking as being, for me, largely irrelevant.  I WANT what I read about theology and spirituality to discomfort me, to cause my stomach to churn, to force my brain to think.  I want it relevant and irreverent, theology should trouble, not soothe.  For me, this is good, this makes me alive, forces me to consider God in ways that I never heretofore would have.

This particular theologian about whom Kitt writes, posits a different Jesus from that portrayed elsewhere, reads the Gospels in an altogether new, and erotic fashion, and fashions a Jesus that makes virtually everyone uncomfortable… a Queer Jesus.  Now, if my readers are STILL reading after all of this, I owe you an apology.  This writing is already becoming uncomfortably long to me.  And so, I cannot justify explaining in depth the word Queer in the context in which I write here.  Do not think of Queer solely in its modern sense, a pejorative and denigrating word referring to LGBTQI people.  Consider its’ original meaning, of something outside the norm, odd, unusual.  Numerous books have been written about this new/old use of Queer to refer to modern theological efforts, among which are considerations of "Queering the Bible", "Queering the apostles", etc.  If you ask, I’ll attempt to provide a bibliography of such.

In his writing about Jesus, his "Queering of" Jesus, if you will, he makes reference to Jesus walking along the seashore and calling out to various fisher-folk to leave what they are doing and follow him.  As we know, numbers did… and we refer to them today as apostles.  Peter, James & John come to mind.  But this writer sees Jesus, not out walking, but "cruising".  And it is to this that the second comment (my third "experience") is addressed.  The individual who commented on this writer’s use of cruising seemed to take great umbrage at this.  I have to admit that my initial response was one of queasiness.  But the commenter’s offense really caused me to step back and look at the passage again.  Whereas the commenter was offended to think of Jesus out cruising (a word with almost universal sexual connotation) I was struck by how (if I accept the writer’s portrayal) what might have started out as a "crass search for casual sex" instead resulted in deep relationships, lasting a lifetime… and millennia.

I guess what it comes down to is this.  I reject the notion that sex is in and of itself a negative.  I find, instead, that sex is primarily and fundamentally a positive, good "thing".  To personalize this, my own relationship with my husband began as an act of "cruising".  It has become for me, and I firmly believe, in the eyes of God, a most wondrous and beautiful expression of who I was, who I am, and who I am becoming.  I categorically and emphatically reject the supposition that cruising is in and of itself bad, anymore than any expression of sexuality is bad.  In so doing, I also recognize that I am categorically rejecting any teaching of any establishment which portrays sex, sexuality, sexual orientation or sexual activity (at least those that do not fall into the categories I defined earlier) as being immoral.  What is immoral is precisely that negative portrayal of these gifts of God in our lives.  And to the degree that institutions seek to portray these gifts as immoral, I see those institutions themselves as fundamentally immoral.

I first started this blog post  over 2 weeks ago, while on our way to Rendezvous 2010 in Medicine Bow National Forest, Wyoming.  I had hoped to write some each day up there, then post it all on my return.  That obviously didn’t happen.  It’s amazing how what seems like lazy days of vacation doing “nothing” can become so full of activity.

It is probably good, though, to point out – to myself, if not to anyone else – some of the obvious.   The day after I began writing this, we arrived at our destination.  Rendezvous is not held in, or even near, an organized campground.  For those of us who RV, what we were doing is called boondocking.  There’s no electrical hook up.  There’s no water nearby.  There’s no sewage lines to connect our RVs to.  We run what little we have by battery.  Each morning, I hook up a small (1000 Watt) generator and run it for a few hours for two purposes… to make coffee and to recharge the battery. 

Let’s start with what I initially entitled “Rendezvous – Day Minus Three” – referring to the fact that we were starting early, 3 days prior to the official start of the Rendezvous:

————–

Once again, August dawns hot and humid in Council Bluffs, Iowa.  And once again it is time for the Hays-Stroms and friends to begin our annual migration to Wyoming, and Rendezvous, Wyoming Equalities annual Pride celebration.

Scott and I, and Raymond Page, one of our good MCC Omaha friends decided this year to beat the rush… actually we just wanted to get away a few days early, so that we could enjoy a little peace and quiet, and also to make sure we got our favorite camp-site.  We succeeded!

We departed Omaha on Friday after I got off work, and were on the roads and out of the city before the worst of the Omaha rush-minute hit.  Picking up Ray in Gretna, NE, we got to Doniphan, NE a little before 7 p.m. and settled for a quiet and early evening.  Saturday, we were on the road again relatively early… at least for pulling a trailer.  The drive was really uneventful.  No rain.  No traffic…. well, almost no traffic.  At about mile marker 326 on Interstate 80 in Wyoming, we hit major traffic.  The road was down to one lane and traffic was stopped.  Ironically, our exit was at mile marker 323.  We got to it about a half hour later!

There’s a rest stop on I80 at mile 323 that sits a little above the freeway, and looks out over the mountains.  At this point on I80, the road takes a sudden downward plunge, at about a 5% grade… later it’ll grow to a nearly 10% grade as I80 enters Laramie, Wyoming.  There’s a huge bust of Abraham Lincoln at this stop.  And, it’s a good place to fill up on water… 50 gallons in the trailer’s tanks, and nearly 30 more in water bottles we bring along.  We’ll go through a lot of water up here, the 3 of us, and the two ladies who will join us in 24 hours.  Hey, we may be roughing it up here in the mountains with no electricity (except that which our generator produces) and no bathrooms (except in the trailer.)  But we guys gotta make sure we look FAaabulous for the couple hundred who attend Rendezvous!

This morning, we all drove back in to Cheyenne, WY, for groceries and more ice.  The propane refrigerator will only hold so much!  We were back by 1, and then I showered (I love showering outside up here! – behind our shower screen, of course!)  It was so hot today!  I think it got to 85! 

But as I write, a storm has moved in.  The temperature has dropped to somewhere in the 60s.  It’s raining!  And it’s fun!

We have a thermometer that we put on our window and it gives us the outside temp.  We put it in a drawer with a bottle of SuperGlue.  We left the bottle there through the winter.  It froze, and leaked, and now our thermometer, 3 plastic knives, a plastic spoon and a couple of other things are forever glued to the bottom of that drawer!

This probably won’t get posted until the end of our stay here.  So there may very well be lots of posts all at once!

————–

That was on Sunday, August 1.  The next day our friends Juline and Cindy arrived.  Juline and I would both rise very early, and sit around chatting, drinking coffee, until the rest awoke.  This could often be 3 hours later.  It was fun for me.  I enjoyed those early morning talks.  We talked about nearly everything you could think of.  Her life growing up in North Dakota.  Mine in Nebraska.  Our families.  Mom’s last days.  Dad’s situation.  Her Mom & Dad.  I actually went through withdrawal after coming down off our mountain.

Because Omaha is located somewhere around 1000 feet above sea level, and our week-long home in Wyoming is at 8,500 feet above sea level, the disparity in altitude caused us some problems.  We tired out much easier.  We dehydrated MUCH faster.  My lips were dry and chapped the entire time, yet by the time we’d gotten half way home, they were almost back to normal… because it’s so dry up there.  It was hot.  But not in the hellish way it is here in Council Bluffs.  It could get up close to 90, yet, find shade and a little breeze and one could actually feel almost chilled!  There is less atmosphere to dissipate the effect of the sun’s rays.

We didn’t do a lot.  Sitting, talking, cooking, eating, cleaning up, sitting, talking, sleeping… pretty much the pattern of life.  A good life.  One I’d love to continue forever, were it not for knowing work and responsibility are good for one.  Not to mention necessary in order to make such a good life possible.

We had some excitement of course, good and bad…. Bad in a relative sense, though.

For instance, at the half way point of our week away, on Wednesday the first official day of Rendezvous, I noticed our battery was not charging.  I’d turn off the generator, and the battery charge would not have changed.  It drained, and drained, until the alarm on the propane detector sounded.  It’s hard wired to the electrical system of the trailer, and once dead it’ll sound off.  The only way to stop the incessant chirping is to either plug in to a better electrical source, run the generator, recharge the battery, or disconnect everything.  When the generator failed, Cindy, Juline and I dashed off with the battery for Laramie, WY. 

We took it to the Wal-Mart, and asked if it could take a charge.  They assured me it could and to come back in an hour.  An hour later we returned to the Automotive desk and were told that they actually didn’t have the proper charging equipment for a Marine/RV battery.  It was now 6:30 p.m.  They suggested we take it to a car dealership.  Like that was going to happen at 6:30!  So, I decided to buckle down and buy a new battery.  Could they help me pick out the right one?  No.  I got 5 blank stares.  No clue what we needed.  They suggested Advanced Auto Parts or Checkers, supplied us with directions, and we were off.  The sun was setting, and we needed to get back.  Scott was waiting dinner for us.

We ran in to Advanced Auto and plopped the huge, heavy battery on the counter and explained our needs to a young man with a monstrous wad of chewing tobacco stuck between his outer lip and his teeth, spilling out over his mouth.  “I know JUST what you need.”  He disappeared to the back of the store and returned a moment later with a battery only about 3/4 the size of ours.  “This is our best RV battery.”

Now, I’ll tell you, I don’t have a clue about batteries.  I didn’t know what I needed.  But I did know the numbers on his battery were much smaller than those on ours, and it  was itself so much smaller.  Cindy piped up “Why is it so much smaller.”  Staring dumbfoundedly into the distance, the young man rubbed his chin and thought… an interminably long time… “Well… it’s just the casing, that’s all.”  I see.  I think.  “No,” I said, “This isn’t going to work.”  I move to pick up my battery and move off.

“Wait!”, the young man exclaimed, and headed off again, returning with another battery.  “This is an even better battery.”  It’s still smaller, but the numbers are getting closer.  Better than the best… hmmmm.  “I don’t think so, but thank you for your help,” I say smiling and turn for the door.

“Well, I do have one other, better battery.”  He describes something with “gel packs” or some other; near as I can tell it has a built in bathroom, kitchen and large screen television.  But it sounds big and that must be good, so I ask “How much?”  “225 dollars,” he responds.  We left.

Next stop is Checkers.  Only, there’s no Checkers where they described it should be.  But there IS an O’Reilly Auto Parts there.  So, I heave the old battery out of the truck, and step inside.  Another young man is behind the counter.  “Can I help you?” he asks.  Now, before proceeding I think it only fair to state that I DID leave Advanced Auto Parts a little more educated on batteries.  I think I know what I need, now.  So, I explain our story and make a bee-line for the battery display.  The young man swooped down on us, and helps me find a battery.  It’s about the same price as I paid for my old battery.  It’s the same dimensions as my old battery.  The numbers aren’t the same, but they’re close.  Close enough.  I buy it.

Turns out THIS young man is from Kearney.  “I went to college there… back in the day when it was Kearney State College” I say.  “My mom went there too.  Probably about the same time you did.”  Cheeky punk.  But he was nice.  And he actually seemed to KNOW what he was talking about, when it came to batteries… and Kearney.  We paid, and HE carried BOTH batteries back to my truck.  I didn’t trade my old one in… or exchange it or whatever you do with batteries.  The thing is, it’s only 5 months old!  I’m taking it back to where I bought it to see about warranties.

And, we had no further problems on our trip with batteries… in fact the thing never fell below 100% charged on our battery meter!

But, all in all, it was a great trip!

And I’m glad to be home with my critters and my job.

Well, it’s official.  Today marks my last day consulting for DOT.COMM.  Dare I say it’s bittersweet to be leaving this wonderful job?

Of course not.  You all KNOW that starting tomorrow I will be working FULL time for DOT.COMM.  But it’s been kinda fun joking about how Friday was my last day, yada yada yada.  It’s not at all bittersweet.  What it is is absolutely exciting!  What changes?  Well, nothing much, really.  Except the name on my electronic paycheck will no longer be TEKSystems… it’ll say DOT.COMM.  I’ll get paid every two weeks instead of weekly (I’ll kind of miss that part, actually – though my absolute favorite would be to get paid 1x a month; apparently the average person can’t handle only getting paid once a month.)

What else is new?  I’m really enjoying my walking.  I’m trying to walk at least 3 miles every night after work.  Though, with summer heat finally arriving, I’m not sure how practical that’s going to be.  After work, the heat will be it’s most brutal.  And I know that if I forget my hat, I simply can’t walk.  Period.

Friday night, instead of my 3 mile walk, Scott and I parked in front of the office and walked the 3/4 mile down to Omaha’s Summer Arts Festival.  We enjoyed wandering around the exhibits for an hour or so in the heat.  Ugh… to the heat anyhow.  We found the PERFECT art piece for our bedroom, oh my goodness was it nice.  The colors were spot on for what we’re doing.  Unfortunately, the price tag wasn’t quite so spot on.  At $1100 for HALF of the art work it’s just out of our league.  Always will be!

Yesterday, I went for my first major walk in my training.  I walked from Lewis Central High School which is down by the Iowa School for the Deaf on US275, west around the southern shore of Lake Manawa, then up the western side of the lake, bordering Indian Creek, and eventually ending up at the Western Historic Trails Center and Museum.  That’s a distance of just about 8 1/2 miles!  I started out at 7:15 a.m., expecting to complete the walk in 2 hours 40 minutes, and was only about 15 minutes off.  And that’s only because about a mile shy of my destination, I started chaffing, and that slowed me down.  Well, that doesn’t account for ALL of the 15 minutes.  Some of it was waiting for a light to change crossing 24th St.  There are very few pedestrians in the area, so once you push the button to get a crossing signal, you have to wait for the light to go through a complete cycle before it finally gives you the go ahead.  I timed it… 2 1/2 minutes from the third time I pushed the button (pushing repeatedly is always a good way to get something to work faster, you know!)  And my expectation of 2:40 did not take in to consideration any rest breaks.  I took maybe a total of 7 minutes rest along the route, mainly to dig water out of my little day pack. 

Many of you know I have a bad habit of not taking enough water on these kinds of excursions.  You’ll be happy to know I took MORE than enough water for 8 miles (6 full bottles) but I also took good care to keep hydrated.

But, as I said, I did start to chafe.  That slowed me down the rest of Saturday.  The walk took a bit more out of me than I expected.  Lots of work to do between now and October 1 if I’m going to walk SIXTY miles!

Here’s one of the more interesting stretches of trail.