Ain't it funny, how time slips away...?

Any Willie Nelson fan will recognize that song!

ARE there Willie Nelson fans out there, anymore?

My Dad liked Waylon and Willie and Chris Cristofferson, and listened to them a lot when I was growing up. (On EIGHT TRACKS!  That's right.  I'm THAT old.) 

Anyway....
It's been awhile since I posted and I'm getting some disgruntled readers.  Well, they USED to read the Chronicles.  I may have lost them, by this time, with my lack of post-age. 

Couple things...
(I'm very fond of "Two things".  I may send three different emails to someone, each containing "Two things:".  Why not send "Six things:", you ask?  Have you ever tried to plow through a list of six things, made longer by a verbose blondish sort? Yeah.  Not fun.)

First, I really just want to wrap up the blog challenge, because it weighs heavy on me, and this is the last post for that challenge.  And, oddly enough, the easiest one. 

The challenge asked, "If you could only give one gift, what would you give and to whom?"

That's a snap.

For about 8 years, I've had the secret dream of someday winning the lottery and building a new library/community building in Jordan.  The existing library is in an old, old, falling down, cold/hot building with very little room and no way to expand.  I even have the floor plan sort of laid out.  And we really need a place in Jordan to have babyshowers, knitting groups, bookclubs, 4-H meetings, and those sorts of things.  Someplace nice and friendly and convenient and MODERN...like, with hot and cold running water and climate control and those sorts of crazy things. 

So that would be my one gift, and it would be for the whole county.  Wouldn't that be glorious? 
Of course, I may need to actually BUY a lottery ticket to have any hopes of making it reality....

Second thing is that I really do appreciate everyone who stops by here and reads the Chronicles.  I've "met" the coolest people, who left comments and thoughts, and continue to correspond via email with me.  And my local lurkers...I love you guys!  I never know who's going to walk up to me on the street (We have one, you know, in Jordan.  Really.) and remark about a Chronicle post. You all come out of the blue!

I've been refraining from posting a lot of community things, as of late, because it was hinted to me that perhaps others would like more privacy.  Things like bookclub.  After thinking about it for awhile, I'll continue to post those things, but not with pictures.  And anyone who wants a pseudonym can contact me.  My friends are a huge part of my life, and I simply can't write, here, without including them in the posts. 

See?  That wasn't as painful as you'd anticipated, was it?

Now I can put up some Christmas posts and other nonsense that I've been storing up in my already-crowded bean!

Challenging, to say the least...

Bet you thought I'd forgotten about the blog challenge, huh?
It's still going! There's a topic this week, then next and we won't start another until the first week of January. 

The NEXT blog challenge will be topics that I've been working on.  They have a sort of Crazy Mary feel to them, so we'll see how that goes.  Anyone interested in joining?  Feeling like starting your New Year with some craziness?  It would be fun to have a couple more people involved!

The challenge this week is to write about the one book that has affected me the most in my life, so far.

Excuse me?

ONE book?

Besides the Bible?
(Which is FULL of books!  I love that! God's Word is made up of a BUNCH of books...He gave us a living library.  How cool is that?)

I really did think about this challenge quite a lot.  It reminds me of the "If you could only take one book to a deserted island, what would it be?" question.

Darned if I know.

Because a book influences my life nearly every day.  And it's not always deep, meaningful influence either. 

Sometimes it's finding a substitution for an ingredient in the back of a cookbook. (If you don't have one full egg, use two egg whites.  Huh?)
Sometimes it's how to apply eye make up properly. (Thank you, Bobbi Brown!)
Sometimes it's learning that bees wings aren't attached to any muscles, that it's the muscles in the thorax that make them move. (My abs ache, thinking about it...)

Choosing just one influential book would be like choosing one favorite child...I don't think it can be done. 

So I think I failed this challenge.  But I'm still working on it.  Probably, in the middle of the night, I'll sit up straight in bed and say, ".....".  For now, I'm flaking out.

Cookie Day Part II

We do other things besides decorate cookies and eat!

The cousins did a lot of sledding. It was perfect; the snow was hard and slick and they just zoomed down the little hills! 

We cut a big load of firewood for Grandma.  Here's Cowboy PopPops and the Farmer, cutting down the first tree.  The good news is that it didn't hit anyone or smash any vehicles...

 ...the bad news is that it got stuck in a neighboring tree and we had to get B.J. to pull it down with his pickup. 

 This tree isn't going to catch on anything!

 Cowboy PopPops built a fire from some of the twigs and bark, and it was wonderful to be able to warm little toes while the grownups loaded wood.  The kids played in the trees, made forts and all sorts of fun tromping around. 

When we got home, we unloaded the wood and then...you guessed it...ate a bite. 

Meghan, Cari and Tristin had gone to town, so it was a pretty quiet evening.  Once we got the babies bedded down on a humongous air mattress, (it WAS huge...and held three girls, width-wise) B.J. and I slipped down to Grandma Dutton's house to watch Round 10 of the National Finals.  It was such a treat! We didn't make it through the whole thing....we quit it after the saddle broncs.  Guess we're getting old...

This was the first year the kids and I stayed overnight, and it was such a good thing to do. 

They got up, rolled off their air mattress and into bed with Grammy!

PopPops made us all bacon, eggs and toast....oh, it was GOOD!

And we had all morning to visit, drink coffee, shower and get ready to eat.

I love Cookie Day.

I love my family!

Cookie Day 2010!

My family has a great tradition that started with the blending of two families when my Dad and Karen got married.  Christmas was sort of a mess, because no one knew where to be or who to spend it with....common situation in blended families.  We came up with a cookie intensive day, where everyone brings cookies to share and we all decorate sugar cookies that day.  It has become our Christmas, in a way, and we look forward to it ALL year.  And not just because we adore sampling 20 different kinds of cookies and candy.  There's no restrictions on the consumption on Cookie Day.  None.  Even for the kids. 

But the very best part is getting siblings and grandparents and grandkids together for a day that doesn't revolve around presents...just around enjoying each other.  This year, Karen's kids were all home for their Grandpa's funeral, sadly.  But we were thrilled they were able to come to Cookie Day.  Barry's family didn't make it this year, but the rest of us did and it was a sweet time.  Here are some of the pictures!

Cousins!  Grammy Karen made all of us aprons for Cookie Day and here are the cousins wearing theirs.   Clockwise from the top: Tristin, Kamryn, Livvie, Angus and Maggie.  We were missing 6 cousins...missed them a LOT, in fact!  Angus is the only boy...for a while.  We're looking forward to another boy cousin in 2011! 

 Cari Mae, modeling her apron!

Jen, stirring caramels, in her apron.  The caramels were...beyond incredible.  I'm drooling all over the keyboard thinking about them.  Still.

This is a picture of SOME of the snacks.  I do not exaggerate when I tell you that every flat surface in the kitchen is covered with food. What you don't see here is a big roaster of Meghan's shortribs and a roaster of Cari's meatballs with chipotle raspberry sauce.  And other dips and chips lurking on the counters and in the fridge.  We didn't even get to some of it, despite a mighty effort to eat for 16 straight hours. 

I love my family...

Cari and me...the kitchen is so small that we're constantly running into each other, so we just stop and get a hug once in a while.  That's good stuff!

 B.J., filling his coffee cup AGAIN.  I think the boy had about 2 pots worth.  He was freezing, the whole two days we were there, and ended up cleaning the chimney on Sunday morning so we could have a REAL fire.  This was B.J.'s first Cookie Day, and we were really missing his little family.  Maybe someday...

 Grandma Dutton, enjoying all the family around.

 Grandpa Bud and Cari....Bonnie (Bud's wife) didn't make it because she was sick.  I miss her laugh and crazy socks!

 See the popcorn cake?  That's pretty much what the kids had for lunch.  Angus is getting his cowboy apron, here.  The kids wore their aprons all day!  They love them.

 Goofing around in the kitchen...we have so much fun!  *Disclaimer: only about 1 1/2 glasses of wine had been consumed at this point.  We're NATURALLY this way.

Cowboy PopPops, Grammy Karen and Tristin

 Bring on the cookies!!!

 We had a cookie decorating contest.  Everyone was very serious about their entries.

(Don't you love Maggie's apron? Bugs!  How appropriate for a girl who eats fried grasshopper legs...)

 His tongue sticks out when he concentrates.  This is a very intense activity, you know!

 Kamy, with a tried and true technique, perfected over many years of Cookie Day...

 Jen and Meghan...the Favorites.

 Yes! Even the guys decorate...sometimes.  And not for long.  But they do!

 Livvie and her avante garde cookie! She's so proud...worked on it a LONG time!

 The finished product...close up.  One wouldn't want to fall on this cookie...

 Sprinkles!  It's all about the sprinkles.  I don't know how many pounds we go through, every year.

Three of the most beautiful women I know...

No one eats the cookies Angus decorates.  Can't imagine why...

 Aftermath...

 Grammy Karen made two table runners and drew names for the winners.  Meghan and I won!  We're obviously her Favorites.

 Jen's caramels, all wrapped up, before we all fell on them and ate a bunch.  They were simply amazing. Notice I used the past tense, "were"....

There are two reactions to the sugar/food orgy.

Extreme buzzed-ness...

 ...or unconsciousness.

I'm going to have to break this post up into two parts! 

Stay tuned for Part II...

Baby, it's COLD outside!

Some bloggers have Wordless Wednesday, where they only post images and write nothing.
Can you believe that?
NO words, whatsoever!
I can't wrap my brain around that depth of restraint....

I'm from across the tracks...where Wordy Wednesday is where it's at.

You always know that's coming, don't you?

This last Monday, I threw the camera in the car so I could take frost pictures on the way to preschool. I hadn't really looked at them until this morning and even I was shocked at how desolate it looks here!  Some call it peaceful, others call it big country.... even with pretty words, it's pretty darn desolate.  

Grab a cup of tea and take a look....

Little Trailblazer that has never let me down!  Love this rig...

My dog, Molly, is in the front seat thinking I've lost my marbles.

Angus is patiently waiting in the back seat, thinking, I'm sure, the same thing.

The road before us...straight as a plumb line.

 This time of morning, everything is all blue and pink and gold. It's almost surreal!

Disgruntled sharptail grouse...I stopped the car to take pictures, and they flew and fluffed and made all sorts of alarmed noises. I had interrupted coffee hour, I'm sure, and they were going to have to regroup.

 This is the picture that got me.  It looks for all the world like the ocean, doesn't it? Goes on and on, undulating and glowing...

Can you believe people live here? Not many, that's for sure!

 The neighbors' horses, who checked me out pretty closely, thinking I might accidentally have some grain on me.  I'm sure they're used to being caught that way, but this morning I think they would've relented and come over, despite the potential work.

Get to the crossroads and have to make the big decision....

We turn to the right, running late because of all the photography! (Next week, I'm going to try to get pictures in town, because Jordan dresses up for Christmas...)

 Oh! Remember the boots?

 I love the frost on the woven wire...big poofy squares of white!

These little mule deer were interested, but not alarmed in the least.  There was a little buck with them that WAS a bit cagey, and he bounced off to look at me from up on the hill.  It hasn't been that long since hunting season!

Don't you love how fat their winter faces are? 

Trees!  On the way to Farm Chick's house, I pass through a creek crossing where there are a bunch of cottonwoods.  This morning, they are all elegant in their white snow shawls...

Bedded down in the snow by the crossing, I found a couple more deer.  They didn't move a muscle, as I rolled down the window to take their picture.  As cold as it was (-10), maybe they couldn't!

They call the thing rodeo...

Hey, you!  Yeah, I'm talking to you, Rest Of The World. 
The National Finals Rodeo is this week, in Las Vegas, NV! 

And it's a big stinking deal for us native Eastern Montanans.

There are folks who stay up late to watch the performaces...10 in all....then straggle out of bed the next morning to feed cows, with visions of bronc riders dancing in their heads.
We've even been known to have parties for the last performance! Just like a Super Bowl party, only Western and really a lot more...reserved. But really, really, really good food.

Part of the reason it's such a big deal is that a lot of the time, we know someone competing there!  This year, the team roping has an abundance of Montana cowboys and it's thrilling.  Four of the kids that roped at Yost Arena when I was working there, grew up and turned out to be incredible team ropers.  Perhaps you've heard of the Tryans...(Yeah, I'm guessing no one in MI, MO, IA, FL, or RI has any idea of who I'm talking about!) And, even more locally, little Britt Williams from Broadus, MT, who grew up into a man while I wasn't looking, is there, too.  And putting a hurting on some steers.

It's completely breathtaking to me to see the times on the team roping.  Try to wrap your brain around the fact that they are getting the head caught, the heels caught and turned, AND flagged, in 4 seconds and less.  Try 3.7 seconds on for a fast time on Sunday night!  That's coordinating two horses, two men, a steer, a flagger and a timer.  In 3.7 seconds!

The rough stock gets more attention, usually. Of course!  It's edge of your seat stuff...the "I-can't-watch-but-I-can't-NOT-watch" sort of events. The PBR has really brought rodeo to more people; they're marketing genius'.  But I'm appalled that I can't follow rodeo on ESPN, as a sport.  They don't cover it.  They'll broadcast it, for the Finals, reluctantly, but they don't touch it the rest of the time.

The best way to enjoy the Finals is just to go.  There are quite a few people from this area (Eastern Montana) that do. I've ALWAYS wanted to go to the Finals!  It's been a wish of mine from childhood, and *someday* I'll buy the cheap ticket to Vegas and talk an unsuspecting friend into accompanying me for a couple days.

Take a look at http://www.prorodeo.com/ and see what I'm talking about.  And if you get ESPN2, I think it's on there tonight.  Watch for the team roping.  It's amazing!

 *For the record...the title of this post comes from a Garth Brooks song that was WAY overplayed when I was in high school...I still can't stand to listen to it....but it was applicable, here.

:)

Challenged! Again...

I don't even know I'm doing it, a lot of the time.

I don't remember a time I didn't.

I'm compulsive with it, obsessive at times, incredibly passionate about it and look for others to draw into the madness of it.

I'm can be sort of a snob about it.

If you guessed "eating", well, you're wrong. 
Not even close.

I'm supposed to describe my life as a reader, for the blog challenge this week!
All the who/what/where/when/why's of it. 
Mercy!

Not to flake out on you or anything, but I couldn't tie it down that neatly....

First of all, I read everything.  And when I say I read everything, I mean that I read the fine print on the fire extinguisher label, the little jeweler's symbol on the inside of my ring, the instruction books that come with cow vaccine (not in Spanish, but I'm working on the French), and coupons on the inside of the detergent box.  Along with any of the more traditional books, magazines, cereal boxes and emails.

I HAVE gotten to be rather a book snob.  I read a saying once that struck me as funny, then struck me as worthy, and I've claimed it ever since.  It was something along the lines of: "Always read things that, if you died in the middle of them, would make you look good."  (I don't know if reading cow vaccine instructions would make me look good or not...)  But it's sort of a good rule of thumb!  And now my tastes naturally run to Victor Hugo, Homer Hickam and the brilliant Bill Watterson, creator of Calvin and Hobbes. 

I love blogs.  It's online journaling!  And who doesn't want to read someone else's journal, for heaven's sake! (Now don't get all moral and hoity-toity on me....you KNOW it's delicious.  Otherwise you wouldn't read the Chronicles and find out about hole-y underwear and rules of coffee and all those other scintillating things in my life....)

I read like I breathe.  I always have.  And, like breathing, I don't think about it, but it's essential to my exsistance. 

Where do I read?
Everywhere.
My favorite place, though, is
(NOT the bathroom! Tsk, tsk....)
in bed, on Sunday afternoons, when everyone else is napping or welding or something. 
That happens once every vernal equinox, so it's a treat.



I have a friend who INSISTS that I'm smart, and I argue that I'm just well-read. 
Because what kind of a moron would read the fine print on a fire extinguisher?
I. Am. That. Moron.
But I do it well.

Taming

From The Little Prince, part II

"Please- tame me!" he said.

"I want to, very much," the little prince replied.  "But I have not much time.  I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."

"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox.  "Men have no more time to understand anything.  They buy things all ready made at the shops.  But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends anymore.  If you want a friend, tame me..."

"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.

"You must be very patient," replied the fox.  "First you will sit down at a little distance from me - like that- in the grass.  I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing.  Words are the source of misunderstandings.  But you will sit a little closer to me, every day..."

The next day, the little prince came back.

"It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox.  "If, for example, you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy.  I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances.  At four o'clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about.  I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you...One must observe the proper rites..."

"What is a rite?" asked the little prince.

"Those also are actions too often neglected," said the fox.  "They are what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours.  There is a rite, for example, among my hunters.  Every Thursday they dance with the village girls.  So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards.  But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all."

..........................................................................................

Doesn't he write of friendship beautifully?  The beginnings of relationships and the care of them...
But there's more...

............................................................................................

So the little prince tamed the fox.  And when the hour of his departure drew near- 

"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."

"It is your own fault," said the little prince.  "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"Then it has done you no good at all!"

"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields."

...........................................................................................

(After the little prince looks at roses...)

And he went back to meet the fox.

"Goodbye," he said.

"Goodbye," said the fox.  "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

"It is the time you have devoted to your rose that makes your rose so important."

"It is the time I have devoted to my rose-" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.

"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox.  "But you must not forget it.  You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.  You are responsible for your rose..."

......................................................................................

Are you still with me?
(It's okay if you're sniffling.  I do, too. Every time....)

I have some responsibilities that I've been neglecting, a tending of tamed roses that has been set aside carelessly. I realized it as I spent time with Kim this week; a long-time friendship that I just assume will always be there.  And it will, I believe.  But friendships...true and real friendships....should not be treated frivolously and forgotten. 

Being a naturally gregarious person, sometimes I forget in meeting new people and having new experiences, that I need to take the time to be responsible for my roses. I forget, too, that taming is a two way street, and that I can let others care for me....



I don't know about you, but that's about all the deep thinking I can handle for a few days.

If you haven't read The Little Prince, or you haven't read it in a long while, may I encourage you to take a look at it? It may annoy the dickens out of you or completely mystify you; or, perhaps, it will sing to you and you'll read it again, and again, and again....

To establish ties

The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, is perhaps my very, very favorite book (after the Bible) in the world.

  Have you read it? 

If you've only read it once, you've probably decided it was the product of a delusional Frenchman, who drew amusing pictures. (Which, as I write that, probably explains why I'm drawn to it!)

I believe it's not a story to be read once and walked away from. It's much too complex.  And it's not a story that makes any sense, whatsoever, so for those who are looking for plot, conflict and tidy resolutions, it is an incredibly frustrating book. But for those of us who have never really finished growing up, it's a comforting book. 

I drove home from Billings on the interstate, yesterday and had two hours of uninterrupted time to think.  (This is dangerous, let me warn you....I think better out loud, bouncing things off other people.  Thinking to myself tends to muddle and muddy and tangle every little string of ponder, until my thoughts looks like a wad of junk that a 4 year old packed around in her pocket. Not pretty.  When I think aloud, to a friend, the strings become bright and even though they meander, there's form; one could follow them back if needed.)

Anyway, I was thinking about friendships and how they are such essential, dear gifts, and how we sometimes squander them, like Kleenex from a new box.  As though there will always be another one, fresh and clean, when one of the first gets raggedy and messy.  And it reminded me of The Little Prince.

This is going to be a two (or maybe three) part post.  It takes awhile to draw you to where I am...
Please be patient with me, and enjoy the beauty of De Saint-Exupery's writing.

From The Little Prince:

"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."

"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."

................................................................................

"...I am looking for friends. What does that mean - tame?"

"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. "It means to establish ties."

"To establish ties?"

"Just that," said the fox.  "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys.  And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me.  To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes.  But if you tame me, then we shall need each other.  To me, you will be unique in all the world.  To you, I shall be unique in all the world...."

...........................................................................

"My life is very monotonous," he (the fox) said.  "I hunt chickens; men hunt me.  All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike.  And, in consequence, I am a little bored.  But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life.  I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others.  Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground.  Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow.  And then look: you see the grain fields down yonder?  I do not eat bread.  Wheat is of no use to me.  The wheat fields have nothing to say to me.  And that is sad.  But you have hair that is the color of gold.  Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me!  The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you.  And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."

The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.

"Please-  tame me!" he said.

 

MNF

Tonight, my NFL team, the San Francisco 49ers, have the opportunity to show the world what they can do...

That would be: lose another game on national television. 

And I predict, they'll do that very well.

I can't get the actual game on the computer, but I'll be agonizing over it on the crummy little GameTracker thingamabob that shows the plays long after they've happened.  AND I'll try to listen on the SF radio station at the same time, because hometown announcers are the bomb!  They don't feel badly at ALL, for telling the team how rotten they are.  But there's nothing greater than a hometown announcer when a ball is stripped and the fumble is recovered and "HE'S RUNNING TO THE 10, TO THE 5, HE SCORES!!!! HOW WAS THAT FOR A PLAY, FOLKS!!!! (there's a flag on the play...)".  

Monday Night Football used to be for the masses.  Even people who didn't really particularly care for football were aware of it and grudgingly turned over the t.v. that night, in return for control of the chips and dip.  When it was moved to ESPN, the common man without cable t.v. couldn't access it, except the way I do.  (I know.  You're thinking, "Who doesn't have cable???"  I think there are about 200 of us, scattered across the globe.) 

One of my friends bemoans this fact and says that when they look at the downfall of Western Civilization, they'll find this was the turning point.  A bit dramatic, but I'm not completely convinced that isn't true!

Anyway, if you have ESPN, and you want to see some (let's just face it, here) sad football, join me for the game!  Are you a football fan?  Or a football widow/er?  Or are you there for the food?  (Hey!  One of the great things about football fans is that they surround themselves with food, then get so wrapped up in the game that they forget to eat it.  KaCHING!) 

A fresh look at gratitude...

The Farmer reads a lot of military sorts of blogs, when he's not feeding cows.  I'm sure there's some significant symbolism there that I'm missing....

Anyway, two nights ago, he called me over to read this one:

http://lifeintheinfantry.blogspot.com/2010/11/what-am-i-thankful-for-quite-bit.html

A soldier who was stationed in Afghanistan not long ago, wrote about what he's thankful for.  It took my breath away, and of course, brought tears of gratitude, both for his service and the blessings it secures for my family and country. 

Please take the time to read it...

Sort of crazy

I run.

I'm not a "runner", however.  I reserve that title for people who run marathons or more than 10 miles in a day, VOLUNTARILY.  There's a big difference.  Something snaps, in the psyche of a person who runs, and they become a runner...I don't understand it, nor do I want to.  I just know they're different. And I can't decide if I admire them or fear them. 

Anyway, this morning, I discovered that I've become one of those crazy people who runs in all sorts of awful weather.  You know them.  You see them bullheadedly chugging along in sleet, rain, snow...whatever wretched conditions....as you sit in your car with the heated seats up to their highest level, and you think, "Has she never heard of a treadmill? Hello! Man, NO-ONE could pay me enough to do that..."  (And I can say this, because I DID that, once.  And almost pulled over to give them a ride, thinking they were too stupid to know better...like some sort of athletic chicken.)

Running hurts, I won't lie to you.  It stops hurting if you stick with it and becomes pretty darn uncomfortable.  Then, if you really, really keep going, it feels so good that you think you could run forever. (I believe this is where the runners snap.)  But when you stop, it's gonna go back to pretty darn uncomfortable.  And sometimes, in the middle of the night, when a cramp grabs your arch, it hurts again.  Or if you haven't run for a couple days...that can hurt.

I'm at the point of HAVING to run, almost daily....it's compulsive.  My brain gets all folded in on itself, like a note from one Jr.high girl to another. My body gets hungry for the motion, and I get a feeling of restlessness, twitchy legs. And the treadmill is better than nothing, but it doesn't clean out the soul and free up the mind like running in fresh air.

This morning, when I was running with my head into the wind, eyes and nose streaming from the cold, ice crystals on my eyelashes from the moisture in the air, legs churning in the packed snow of the road and making dreadful time, I realized I had become one of those crazy people.  What's worse is that I LIKED it. I had actually thanked my husband for plowing out the road, not so I could get the car out, but so that I could run! 

If you see me this winter along the county road, it's okay to make eye contact.  This sort of crazy won't rub off.