i don't know why, but she insists on telling me that i've gained weight. i know this. i knew it months ago, i knew it years ago. it's constant and ever increasing. i don't need to be told this by someone external to me. what i need is some encouragement that i can overcome. a point in the right direction. some help along the way. i've been told that my goodlife membership won't begin for another 2 weeks. i'm disappointed, but also think i've been so busy lately that two weeks of rest before my new workout regiment will be nice. sometimes i feel a need to tell people "i've gained weight" just so they know that i'm aware of the fact and don't secretly cringe at my appearance and oblivion. the world is made up of different cultures and different social acceptable interactions. i understand this so i'm not mad at her, i just wish she'd not judge me for it.
as i walked i noticed my right food pointing out. it's always done that. my left foot points straight as it should, but my right foot points out. my dad is the same way. my mom used to giggle at him when he walked in the snow because it always left a path of one crooked foot. seeing my foot and thinking of my dad, made me imagine if my kids right feet will point out too, and i'll say to them "mine too, and same with granddad, it's a family trait". only at that point did it cross my mind that my family heritage did not just begin with my dad. i wondered if my grandpa's feet pointed out too. i never knew my dad's parents, and he doesn't talk much of them. i wonder if my grandma's fingers curled up like mine do, or if she was funny. it made me wonder if in fact we're just all just reconfigurations of other people. all cut from the same cloth.
yesterday i decided to take a look at the mls listings for ktown. it's been a while since i received a HOMES newspaper, and i haven't had the pleasure of window shopping and dreaming. so i took a gander online and found the perfect house. there is part of me that feels disappointed that such a great house would come on the market at a time when we're not interested in buying, we have the means, but have decided to stay put for a while. too bad the timing of that ideal house is off by a few years. however, i tell myself that great houses seem to come on the market regularly and there will be many perfect houses between now and then. and maybe a little closer to the neighbourhood we want to grow roots in.
first we admit our mistakes,
then we open our eyes.
as i walked i noticed my right food pointing out. it's always done that. my left foot points straight as it should, but my right foot points out. my dad is the same way. my mom used to giggle at him when he walked in the snow because it always left a path of one crooked foot. seeing my foot and thinking of my dad, made me imagine if my kids right feet will point out too, and i'll say to them "mine too, and same with granddad, it's a family trait". only at that point did it cross my mind that my family heritage did not just begin with my dad. i wondered if my grandpa's feet pointed out too. i never knew my dad's parents, and he doesn't talk much of them. i wonder if my grandma's fingers curled up like mine do, or if she was funny. it made me wonder if in fact we're just all just reconfigurations of other people. all cut from the same cloth.
yesterday i decided to take a look at the mls listings for ktown. it's been a while since i received a HOMES newspaper, and i haven't had the pleasure of window shopping and dreaming. so i took a gander online and found the perfect house. there is part of me that feels disappointed that such a great house would come on the market at a time when we're not interested in buying, we have the means, but have decided to stay put for a while. too bad the timing of that ideal house is off by a few years. however, i tell myself that great houses seem to come on the market regularly and there will be many perfect houses between now and then. and maybe a little closer to the neighbourhood we want to grow roots in.
first we admit our mistakes,
then we open our eyes.