The Living Without Series

This is a series of posts that I wrote back in 2006 on living with less stuff. Check them out: liv011Living #2liv031liv04

Coal Creek Farm on Facebook

The Chicken Doctor


The Architect


People amaze me, all the time.

I am constantly amazed by people.  Take for instance the women who are married to men who travel for a living.


Clay has been traveling quite a bit lately.  I’ve been able to turn on my turbo boosters when he’s gone.  I actually get more done without him here. But, by the time he gets home I am D.O.N.E.  It would be ideal if he would walk in and say, “Okay, Honey your turn.  Have fun at that spa.”  Bah-ha-ha!  So, I pretend that the grocery store is Hawaii and I buy a couple of cans of sliced pineapple.

Seriously, you ladies that single parent for days on end or any of you single parents out there, God bless you and your ability to not kill your offspring.

I am for certain one of those women that has a better half, he is far better than me at almost everything.  Except cooking.  If something happens to me, well, how long does it take for a person to starve to death?

And what about those people who exercise every day?  That is amazing to me.  I hate exercising.  With all my heart, I hate it.  But, my goodness, I think the people who dedicate their time and energy to pushing their body to do what it really doesn’t want to do, that’s amazing.

You know what else is amazing?  English toffee.  If someone would send me a tin from London, I would run a mile to get it.  Yes, I would.  In fact I would run two miles.  Three is pushing it, but still, I would run for toffee.  I think that’s an idea, I will run for candy.  That’s my new platform.  I will call it, “People that eat toffee and run are AMAZING!”  and then I’ll feel a lot better about myself and the imaginary tropical vacations I take.



Run Preacher Run


I am a mental-basket-case type of runner or in my case slow jogging, but from now on we will call it running and then laugh later. In my head I am both the patient and the psychotherapist.  It’s like two crazy people hop in my brain and start playing tennis with my brain.  Sometimes, I am the woman who can’t be beat, I can do anything, GET OUT OF MY WAY!  But, that only happens when I’m yelling at my kids to do their chores, never when I’m running.  Then there’s the other woman in me, the one that needs a lot of attention from myself and *anyone around me that will notice my needs.  And my needs are many.

I need a lot of prep to go run.  I have to make sure my stomach isn’t full and that I’ve had a nice big drink of water.  Then there is the bathroom issue.  Do I have to go again before I leave?  Will I need to go while I’m running?  I’ll just try to go one more time.  It’s pretty amazing that I ever get out the door.  But wait, there’s more.

I’m a spitter.

I know, it’s gross, but I can’t help it.  I ALWAYS have too much saliva in my mouth when I’m exercising.  It was really annoying at the gym.  I so badly wanted to spit on all the tiny women around me that were bouncing around smiling…..but I didn’t.  I just kept my water bottle close at hand.

I don’t take water with me when I run, so I HAVE to spit.  I’ve discovered that the longer I run the drier my mouth gets and I HATE having dry mouth.  Too much saliva, too little, I can’t seem to get it right.  So, I chew gum, but when I don’t have gum I go to the stash of cough drops.  I’ve learned that one cough drop will last one mile, so I have to carry a dad-gum cough drop in my hand and unwrap it while I’m running! Because no pockets.  Why didn’t I have pockets?  And the whole time I’m saying, “Don’t stop, keep running, don’t look at the road signs or you’ll figure out how much you’ve run, keep going, get the wrapper off, but don’t throw it on the ground….where should I put the wrapper?  Don’t stop running!  The wrapper?  I can’t possibly just carry it, it’s so heavy.  And itchy.  Is it itchy?  I think it is.  Could I shove it in my shoe?  Don’t STOP!  Okay, into my waistband, it should stay there.  Yes!  Okay, do I feel it there?  Is it bothering me?  No, it’s okay.  KEEP RUNNING!”  Yeah, and that’s just a 10 second conversation, this goes on for a good 30-45 minutes.

And my nose runs.

Like all the freaking time.  Today I forgot to bring tissues, because of the no pockets, so I kept wiping my nose on my shirt.  I know, I am a vision of elegance when I run.  The spitting, nose wiping woman.  I have issues.



Today, I needed to watch some dance videos to get me pumped up to run.  Because, much of the time when I’m running and listening to fun dance music,  I just WANT TO DANCE!  Why the running?  Why?!

Since I run out in the middle of nowhere I will occasionally start to sing and flail my arms around, but then the needy voice starts to talk, “Don’t do that!  You’ll get tired!  You have to run!  Keep RUNNING you idiot, don’t STOP!!!”  somebody needs to tell that needy voice to shove it.  Do you all remember Phoebe?  You know, Phoebe?  Oh, come on….you remember….

The Phoebe and Rachel Run

The real April in me wants to run like Phoebe.  But the April that’s running just needs to finish the run without dying.

Did I mention I can’t run alone?

Yeah, it’s like I just can’t do it.  The times I’ve gone out to run by myself have been awful.  I totally cave.  I get all mental and talk myself out of running too far or too long.  It’s nuts.  So, I need accountability.  That’s why I begged Clay and Seth to start this program with me.

Today they were both gone.


I asked Preacher if he wanted to go running with me.  He’s always up for an adventure.


Too bad I failed at providing any fun for him.  Yes, that’s him yawning beside me.  He’s not the best running mate for my fragile self-esteem.


I spent the next two miles looking at his butt.  And when he would stop to sniff something I would think, “Maybe I should stop. Should I stop?  I could stop.  I could smell something.  Oh no, he’s peeing.  Maybe I need to pee….should I pee?  Do I need to pee?  I peed before I left, twice.  I’m okay.  KEEP RUNNING!”


*people with a healthy state of mind should avoid running with me

I hesitate to call it running.

This is me “running”. It pretty much sucks, but the view is worth it. I don’t think anyone needs to worry about me winning a race. I just want to finish a 5k and then I can die, except today I thought I might just kick the bucket after I was done “running”. But alas, I am still alive to do it again tomorrow. The 5k is on Thanksgiving day. When I’m done I am going to eat an entire pumpkin pie with heaping mounds of whip cream.