Toddler Hiway

The writing, ah. The writing. I did get some done. Except I'm wanting to be writing something for the Naughty Thoughts Book Club reading I'm doing, and all I've written about so far is making tea.

God, people, get your minds out of the gutter.

Note to self: stop reading books set in Edinburgh, because you suddenly start writing things like "I'm wanting to be writing..." without thinking that you can't do a Scottish accent for shite. Shit, right. For shit.

What did I do today besides precious little writing?

This morning, I was the belle of the ball. I went down the street to have a visit with Ruby and Fiona and Grace and Grace's mom. We jumped around on the beds for a little while, and then gathered ourselves for a trip to McNabb.

Who should come look? Who should put them in the swing? Who should push them on the swing?

Yes! Auntie Megan!

We drew letters in the sand, I spotted Ruby as she climbed around the school bus, explained to her what basketball was.

"It's so tall!" She pointed at the net above my head. "It must be for big kids."

She seemed a little doubtful about the throwing a ball in there part, and looked at me like I was some kind of nutbar as I tried to mime dribbling.

Which, like the Scottish accent, I can't do for shit and had no business mucking with.

Ninety minutes later some switch - I believe it was labelled "hunger" - got flipped and they would only look at the ground and dolefully whisper "Mama." So, I was a passing fancy, but it was lovely just the same.

Then the moment I'd been waiting weeks for finally arrived.

My shins told me to go fuck myself. Out for a run in the mid-afternoon sun, my limbs cold from the wind, face hot from the sun. At the end of the first song, I stopped and tied my shoes up tighter, which often tames the shin splints. Halfway through the second song, I thought, if this were an asana, I'd have pulled out by now. A few bars into the third song, I had to call it.

Done and done.

I limped a bit, sat a bit, watched the water a bit. The pain eased off and I walked slowly home, gritting my teeth up the Empress stairs. On the way back, I was thinking, well, I'm getting tattooed tomorrow, so I won't be out running for a few days anyway.

Sitting at my Archipelago 6 hours later with my shins throbbing, I'm not sure when I'm going to get back to running.

Better get that bike fixed up, and pronto.