The Things We Do For Love …

If you happen to see me out and about, and notice that it looks like I’m dragging butt, it’s because I’m a little tired. I’ve been staying up late to get mountains of work done, and one day this week I drove to Philadelphia (about 4 hours from here) and back. I had tickets to take the grands there for the circus. I’m glad their Daddy drove from their house into the city. Even though the traffic was not bad, I was happy to relinquish the captain's seat.

This was the first time at the circus for our little four-year-old. Watching HER watch the circus was more fun than a barrel of monkeys. The kids all seemed to enjoy the show, and that made the long day worth it all.

Some of the kids came home with me. We just took a walk, and sang “The Things We Do For Love” most of the way back. Well, we sang our own version of it, that is. We made up lyrics to fit the situation, and bellowed the chorus just as we passed the Amish schoolhouse. (I wonder if they were listening from inside there? Those kids in that school already think I’m crazier than a loon. I’ll tell a story about that another day.) My grandson wore a pedometer to see how many steps it takes to walk down to the swamp we like to visit. It was a disappointingly small number. Seems we’d have to do it about five times to get in the number of steps we set as a daily goal for me. Taking the same walk five times a day could get rather boring, I suppose. I've used the pedometer before to see how I'm doing with my walking plan, and found I have no trouble hitting my target on a normal day. It was just for their amusement, today. Worked like a charm!

While out shopping one day, I found a hockey puck for the grandson whose forte is definitely not sports activity. This was right up his alley! Key word here is WAS. It's gone now.