I read an article in the New York Times about the Zen of weight lifting. I don’t know much about either of those topics. The article started with a description of the author’s favorite exercise. He picks up two heavy weights and basically just walks around with them for a while. He said it was good for his core, arms, legs, and cardiovascular system. An “utterly elegant whole-body exercise.” End quote. It’s called…wait for it… “the farmer’s carry.” Sometimes I can’t believe I
I’m tearing down my great-grandfather’s barn. It’s not easy. I mean that in so many ways. The barn’s been standing for 122 years. When it was built, a damp pasture spread out to the east – too wet to farm, but good enough for growing grass. Up until a few years ago, some of the wooden fenceposts were still visible. About the time I was born, tile was dug in that drained the rest of the farm into the wet pasture, turning it into a duck slough. In the 50’s, the barn started to
I’m grumpy, but I’m fighting it, baby, I’m fighting it. First of all, I started writing this column in a notebook I bought for $1.50, on a sticky table, in a mall food court. I approve of nothing in that previous sentence. You should know, my life was saved by the invention of the typewriter. My handwriting has always been awful and hasn’t improved much in the past few decades. I seldom write anything other than my signature on a check and “signature” is a fairly loose interp
Who’d have thunk it. I watched a new show on Netflix that had a guy I’d never heard of, but who‘s apparently very famous, and Kate Mckinnon, a very funny woman I have heard of. They were in Cambodia, eating odd food and seeing odd sights. At one point, they talked about the intensity of their careers and whether they’d ever thought about quitting. The man said he often thought of moving to the woods and learning how to weld. Ms. Mckinnon said she would make kitchen cabinets.
If you should see in the news that I’ve fallen from a roof and been crushed under 100 pounds of dog hair and drool, just take comfort in knowing I went out fulfilling a dream. I’m a little tired of the squirrel. I don’t hate all squirrels - that would be the act of a prejudiced person. I try not to dislike any specific group, just individuals whose actions I find reprehensible. Except elitist rich people. My dislike of them is my own personal cross to bear. In my defense, I t