One Crack at a Time

This was the funniest thing I saw today. Because I felt it. In my hips, mainly.

It's January 9th and I've gotten 10,000 steps on at last half of the days this year. I wonder how long I can say that! So with new (to me) efforts to get some walks in, I'm feeling it more than other times I've "started over."

Maybe it's age. Well, yes. That's probably it.

It wasn't fun walking up in the middle of night because I felt like my "psychiatric" nerve was pinched to my IT Band and tied together with some glute muscle. It all hurt on my upper and outer back side. Gotta stretch more, that's all. Because I really want to keep this sporadic streak alive. 

So I faced sloth demon and got back out there today.

Remember when I told you last fall when I saw the wooly bear caterpillar with a wide rust band that we were having a mild winter? We are! Well, it might not be ALL winter, so take advantage of the mild conditions now and the next several days.

And don't fall. In the snow or fall victim to excuses. We got this.

#2021newyou #onestepatatime  

I'm Not Pulling the Wool Over Your Eyes

Good news today! I'll give you a hint: It's not that I got 10,000 steps today. (Though that's certainly commendable.) It's that when I looked down on my lunchtime walk, I saw this guy. Do you know what makes him so handsome? His wide orange band. Which in Farmer's Almanac-type terms, means a MILD WINTER is on the way!

Finally. Some good news in 2020.

Not that I'll have anywhere to drive in the winter, really. But still.

And if you haven't "read the worm" before to predict winter, here's what you need to know about the woolly bear caterpillar—also called woolly worm—and their reputation of being able to forecast the coming winter weather. 

If their rusty band is wide, then it will be a mild winter. The more black there is, the more severe the winter. This dude was definitely rusty!!

And don't pay attention at all to the orange and black fuzzy wuzzies you saw this summer. According to woolly worm watchers, there are two generations of worms each year. The first appear in June and July, and the second in September. The second generation worms are the “weather prophets.”

And is this all backed by science? Well, yes, experiments were done. Maybe a century ago, true. But that's how folklore gets started. I believe for its size, the wooley bear's prediction still holds more weight than that groundhog. But that's just my wishful thinking.

And we need that in 2020, don't we?

A grim fairy tale

Once upon a time there was a mad scientist named Snipe who liked to experiment with nature and things of that nature.

One June day he brought home a cute little caterpillar and placed him in a jar with grass and a big stick. He named him Timmy. Snipe’s Fairy Godmother placed cellophane over the top of the jar, held in place by a rubber band, and poked small holes in it so Timmy could breathe.

Every day Professor Snipe checked on Timmy. He knew one day he would make a cocoon and, later in the summer, magically transform into a butterfly.

As luck would have it, not too many days later, Snipe found another caterpillar. This one looked big and mean, with evil spikes and black dots. He named him Freddie. Snipe wanted to see how the two would get along. It wasn’t meant to be.

One night, while the rest of the house was sleeping, Fat Freddie beheaded poor Tiny Tim … and escaped! For days, Fairy Godmother was on edge, wondering when the creepy critter would crawl up her leg or out of her purse or some dark corner.

Then one day, she was doing her Cinderella chores and lifted the rug to sweep. There, not 6 inches from the front door, lay a Flat Fat Freddy. He was inches from freedom and a life on the lam – only to be crushed in hiding by Snipe or Big Daddy.

The moral of the story (and of course, there is one): Crime doesn’t pay. When you’re guilty, you can’t worm your way out of anything!