Memorable Mother's Day

The weather has been so awful this year that I was afraid to hope for a nice Mother's Day weekend, but we got one!  Sunday was truly one of those top-10 days of the year--sunny, warm but not hot, gentle breeze.  Made to order....

But first, Saturday....

Saturday threatened rain, but we never got it.  Christine joined Jodie and me for a day trip to the beach (I had to be in the area anyway for a brief writing assignment).

On the way down, we stopped at Dunkin Donuts for breakfast sandwiches, and Christine treated me as an early Mother's Day present.

She hadn't been to the cottage since we had painted the outside and put up the awnings, so she was excited to see the finished product.

The first thing we did when we got to the house was take Jodie out to the beach.

We were shocked at the mess.  The huge storm we had last week (very heavy rain and wind) had dumped all kinds of debris on the beach and, even worse, washed away most of the sand that had been added in a beach replenishment project just a few weeks ago. This patriotic-looking beer can stood out from all of the white plastic and other trash littering our pretty little beach:

Then we got our favorite Wawa food for lunch and ate it on the screened porch.  Jodie tried to look cute hoping that she might convince Christine to share her sandwich.

I don't think I could ask for a more adorable daughter or dog:

We hung out on the porch for a few hours and then went for a late-afternoon run together.  After much-needed showers, we headed home at about 5:30.

On Sunday morning, Christine showed up with a tray of marigolds for the vintage bathtub in our back yard. Within a couple of weeks, they'll spread and fill the tub with vibrant color that we can see from the deck:

Christine also brought fresh mozzarella, tomatoes, and basil for pizzas on the grill for dinner:

We spent the whole day lounging on the deck with Doug talking, reading, and enjoying the weather.

I am blessed to have such a thoughtful, beautiful daughter:

And Alex, who was in North Carolina at a wedding, sent flowers and a card:

We missed him and Ashleigh on Mother's Day but we'll see them in just a few weeks when Christine graduates from UD with a master's degree in health promotion!

P.S. And a big thanks to my sweet husband, Doug, for his company and his cooking!

Pretty in Pink

Last weekend, we had plans to go to the beach cottage, but Doug does freelance photography for the University of Delaware, and the workload gets crazy from mid-April to early June.  He's had more work in the past four weeks than he had in the previous four months.  Saturday afternoon was no exception--he was assigned to do a banquet from 2:00 to 4:00 in the afternoon.

Although I was disappointed about not being able to go to the beach, there were lots of pluses to the way the weekend turned out -- besides the money Doug earns taking pictures!

First, being home meant that we could catch up with our friends Martin and Jenn, who had been away for almost two weeks.  Who can complain about time with great friends eating pizza and ice cream?

Being home also meant I could continue to indulge my resurgent running obsession.  I knew there was another race on the Wilmington Riverfront, and if we were going to be home anyway, why not sign up?

It was a beautiful day to be on the Riverfront, and the crew teams were out early too:

But on my way to the race, I felt really awful.

I admit it--I am a caffeine addict.  My drug of choice is Diet Coke, and we had run out the day before, so I had not had my early morning fix.

On my way to Wilmington, I stopped at WaWa to get a 20-ounce bottle, but by then I was already feeling the effects of withdrawal.  I had a terrible headache and was feeling nauseated and lightheaded.

I started to wonder whether an hour was going to be long enough for the effects to kick in by the time I had to start running.... Even as I walked to the start line, I wasn't sure, and I was feeling like I shouldn't have even wasted the time and money to enter the race.

My last two 5K times had been 24:22 and 24:24.  The way I was feeling, there was no way anything better than those times was going to happen. But the starter went off at 9:00, and we were on our way.  I began to feel a bit better and hoped that maybe I would at least match my last two times. I knew from my MapMyRun program, which talks to me as I run, that I was holding a sub-8:00 pace.

When I hit the three-mile mark, I was stunned to see the clock ahead of me reading 22:14. I had one-tenth of a mile to go. Could I make it in less than 45 seconds?

I put everything I had left into finishing, but when I crossed the line I still wasn't sure of my official time.

A look at the computer a few minutes later told me that I had done it!  My "gun" time was 24:01, but my chip time, which registers when I actually crossed the start and finish lines, showed 23:58.

All the crappy feelings of an hour earlier disappeared, and I felt great.

My prize was a $20 gift certificate to the same restaurant to which Christine had won a $25 card two weeks ago.  We had already planned lunch together, but I think now dessert will be on our order too.

I am not a person who likes pink AT ALL, but I recently bought a pair of "magenta" lightweight running shoes for racing because they were on sale and that was the only color left in my size.

When I told Doug my results, he posted on Facebook and referred to the pink beauties as my "Wonder Woman" shoes:

They're kind of growing on me.

Doug has photos to take again this weekend, but Jodie and I will be heading to the beach and hoping that the predicted thunderstorms go somewhere else.

And since I didn't have a lot of photos for this entry, I'll add one of her lying on the deck with the flowers that are waiting to be planted in our yard:

My "flower girl" can't wait to be a beach girl again.

Running Into the Future

Last week, I posted a few items from a list I saw on Buzzfeed, "30 Things to Start Doing for Yourself."

This week, I want to add one more of them to my own personal list: Start competing against an earlier version of yourself.

I was a pretty serious runner a decade ago, and running got me through a lot of bad stuff, which is thankfully in my past now and not the subject of this post.

Running also made me feel great about myself because I was successful at it, and I met a lot of great people in the running community.

Anyway, after a few injuries and some life changes, I didn't take running so seriously.  I kept up my decades-long exercise streak, but I was more likely to speed walk, swim, or cycle than run.

Then last April, we got our beautiful yellow Lab, Jodie. She's a little muddy here from some frolicking in the marsh:

Jodie isn't one of those dogs that can be a running buddy--she had two hip surgeries before we adopted her at the age of two. So I became a daily walker to keep Jodie in shape and to insert some much-needed activity and structure into her new life. I enjoyed the 4-mile walks, and I convinced myself that walking was just as good as running--it just took longer to cover the same amount of ground.

Occasionally, I came out of my self-imposed running hiatus to participate in a race that meant something to me.  The Pink Ribbon 5K on the Wilmington Riverfront always brings me out--and the gift cards to Women's Sports Specialties that are given as age-group prizes were an added incentive.

But I found myself feeling frustrated. I loved walking Jodie, but I started to resent my daily workouts being controlled by someone else. I also started reading a blog called Runs for Cookies.  Blogger Katie lost more than 100 pounds and became a runner along the way.  Her weight loss story impressed me, but her writing about running inspired me.  

I know I can never get back to the times I ran in my early 50s, but that's the beauty of age group awards.  I can still compete, maybe not with the earlier version of myself but with the current version of myself.

So I'm back at it.  Doug now takes Jodie for her morning walk every other day, which is great because the days I walk her are now "easy" days in between running, which will save me from myself.

In March, Doug and I both participated in the Attack Addiction 5K in Old New Castle to support a friend who's fighting addiction. Doug walked, and I ran. It was a tough day--the temp when we left our house was 11 degrees. It warmed up a bit by the start time, but it was still cold, and I do much better in the heat.  But here I am in my hot pink fleece rounding the final corner to the finish.

My time? A lifetime worst of 26:06.

OK, so that gave me something to work toward. Two weeks later, Doug and I both entered a shamrock 5K in our own neighborhood.  That day, I managed a 25:35.

Meanwhile, I discovered a great Greenways Trail near our beach cottage that presented a much nicer setting to run than just going back and forth on Bay Rd. This is the view at the trailhead:

The trail has markers every tenth of a mile, so I've actually started doing some "speed work"when we're there on the weekends, running the first and fourth miles at an easy pace and alternating hard and easy every tenth for the middle two miles.  I've learned that you can put up with almost anything for a tenth of a mile, and switching it up makes the workout go by faster.

I was starting to wonder....and dream....

Could I run sub-25?

Mmm, yes, I could.

The day before Easter, I talked my daughter, Christine, into running the Ronald McDonald 5K with me on the Wilmington Riverfront.

All I wanted was a 24:59, and she was hoping for anything below 23:00.  We both "won"--we got our times, and we won our age groups! She ran 22:28, and I finished in 24:22--far beyond my wildest dreams:

We had a blast, and the next day, Easter afternoon, we ran 4 miles together through campus and around town. We ran a little faster than my usual and a little slower than hers, so it was a great workout for me.  She offered to run with me once a week if I want so that I can get faster.  What an awesome daughter I have.....

I'm much happier now that I've provided myself with a new challenge.  And I had forgotten how awesome it feels to run really hard.  I hate running (most of the time anyway), but I love how I feel when I'm finished.

This weekend, I'm running an all-women 5K in Havre de Grace, Md.  There are actually cash prizes, even for the old folks.

I'm starting to realize that a little competition was just what I needed to bring that spark back to my life.

Thanks Buzzfeed and Katie.

Lessons from a Humble Cottage

This morning on Facebook, a young woman who is a grad school friend of my daughter posted a link to an article on Buzzfeed, 30 Things To Start Doing For Yourself.

I read through the list and started thinking about the ones that really struck a chord with me and how they related to where I am in my life right now. A lot of them also made me think about our little beach house and how it's changed our lives.

Start making your own happiness a priority, and start creating your own happiness.

I put these two things together because if you're going to make your own happiness a priority, you have to also take charge of it. 

When you have kids, your focus is on them and what they need--new soccer cleats, travel soccer fees, laptops, bicycles, prom dresses, lacrosse sticks, books, hockey pads, running shoes...the list goes on. 

Like most mothers, I never begrudged any of this -- I wanted them to have what they needed to succeed in school, on the playing field, and in the social arena.  I thought nothing of paying a couple thousand dollars for a band trip to England or a soccer trip to Hawaii.

But when it came to myself, I choked at spending large sums of money. My main indulgence was new running shoes three times a year.

But after my kids were grown and out of the house, I started to realize that it was OK for me to think about my own happiness (and of course they're a big part of that happiness now that they're adults and I have a great relationship with both of them). So I decided that it was all right for me to take money out of my retirement fund to buy this hot little mess at Kitts Hummock Beach almost two years ago:

Start noticing and living in the present.

It was hard to take $50,000 out of my retirement account, but it was so worth it.

I don't mean to sound irresponsible here--it's important to save for retirement, and I've been doing it for more than 30 years.  But it's also important to live for now and enjoy things in the present instead of always living for some distant day in the future.

The present is awesome, and we need to enjoy it:

Start giving your ideas and dreams a chance.

I grew up just 10 miles from the beaches in central New Jersey and have always LOVED the beach. For most of my life, I have dreamed about what it would be like to own a beach house.  But the prices made this an unrealistic dream ... or so I thought.  

Every once in awhile, I would visit the website of a beach-based realtor in Delaware and look longingly at two-bedroom cottages listed for $475,000.

But one day, I found a listing for $49,900, and my dream finally had a chance of coming true. 

With the price bargained down to $38,000, we were in business, although Doug still tells everyone how appalled he was when we went to see the inside of the modified 60-year-old trailer for the first time. He was pretty sure his fussy wife would NEVER want to buy a place that looked like this:

But he was wrong because I had a dream, and I was finally starting to believe in it. 

Start looking for the silver lining in tough situations. 

It's sometimes hard to see the silver lining when the only thing in front of you is a pile of junk in the yard and an order for a Dumpster to be delivered the next day.  

But even in that first week, we had some silver linings, like getting the Dumpster completely loaded and ready to be hauled away.

 Start noticing the beauty of small moments.

We have had an abundance of beautiful small moments since we bought our beach shack:

Start accepting things when they are less than perfect.

Well, this was essential with the cottage because everything there is less than perfect--but it's also perfect in its own funky way.

The floors are crooked, the bedroom is so tiny that I have to climb over the bed to get in it, and the kitchen ceiling is so low that our tall friends can barely stand up in it.  

But what's not to love about this adorable little place?

Start focusing on the possibility of positive outcomes. 

Nuff said.  We got our positive outcome even though there was a lot of sweat with some blood and tears thrown in for good measure.  Now, scenes like this are just steps from our front door.

Thanks, Alicia for pointing me to some great life lessons....

All Play and No Work

It was kind of hard to get used to the idea that we could just go to our beach cottage and do nothing.

Yeah, nothing, if that's what we felt like doing.

The work is done--at least for now.  We have water, and everything is fixed and painted and furnished.

When we got there at about 10:30 on Saturday morning, Paxton settled right in for a nap in his favorite chair so that he could be well rested for later--bouncing off the walls and the furniture all night.

We took Jodie out to the beach right away because once we're there, she can hardly contain herself.

Just as we got back to our yard after the beach walk, a car pulled up and stopped.  The woman in the passenger seat asked us if we were the people who blogged about the renovation of the cottage!  We told them we were, and they said they had googled Kitts Hummock and stumbled on my blog.  They kept telling us how much they loved everything we had done to the place. That little encounter really made our day.  Each time we go down now, we feel a little more like we belong in the community.

After the beach, Jodie was ready for a nap too.

I spent most of the afternoon reading on the futon, which is like a built-in window seat in our dining room.

We watched March Madness Final Four in the evening, but Jodie still got me up early the next morning to see this beautiful sunrise at the beach:

For a few minutes everything was pink--the sand, the water, and even the dog--I didn't mess with these photos at all:

Usually, I bring Jodie back after our early-morning trek to the beach and go for a run in our neighborhood, which consists of one road that parallels the bay. I have to go up and back in both directions twice (which means I see the same stuff four times) just to get in 3.5 miles.  But recently we noticed a parking lot with a trail on the road where we go to the store, and I decided to check it out.  I googled it and found out it was the Isaac Branch Trail of the St. Jones River Greenways.

So with that as my planned Sunday morning run, I got there at about 7:30 and parked my car.  It was freezing--35 degrees--and I really hadn't brought enough warm clothes, so I just layered on a tank top and two long-sleeve tees over my tights and running shoes.

It was worth the trip.  This is the view at the trailhead:

The trail weaves in and out of trees with occasional glimpses of the water.  I went out 2 miles and back for a 4-mile run, but I want to take my bike there soon so I can see how far it actually goes. The best part is that it starts near the Wawa, so I can reward myself with a big Diet Coke when I'm done running.

On Sunday afternoon, Doug decided that he wanted to be a trail blazer.  Our little cottage borders wetlands, and we know there are pools of water out in the middle, but all we can see are reeds, or grasses known as phragmites.  So he put on his boots, grabbed a heavy-duty rake and plunged in.  After about half an hour of slogging through thick reeds and sometimes-more-than-ankle-deep water, he reached real water.  But it was kind of disappointing because it was just one of the smaller pools, not the open water we can see from Bay Dr.

Doug's longer-term plan is to build a kind of lookout tower where he can set up his camera with the super-big lens and photograph the wildlife in the marshes. So I guess we'll have to wait until that project is done to get our water view.

We left to come home at about 4:00 on Sunday, relaxed and happy.

We're looking forward to many more weekends just like it--doing exactly as much, or as little, as we want. 

Isn't that what a beach cottage is for?

Bedroom Blues

When I asked Doug on Friday night how he would feel about me painting the bedroom on Saturday, I got "the look."

Doug is a DIY-er with the best of them, but he is never on board with change for its own sake.

I am....

When we bought our little house in Newark almost 8 years ago, the previous owner had just had all of the rooms painted.

For the most part, I liked her choices... except for the master bedroom (and I use that term loosely--in the 1930s they didn't build master bedrooms in houses like ours.  Yes, one of our two bedrooms is slightly larger than the other one, but it's still only about 10 x 11).

Anyway, that room was painted a kind of purply chocolate brown, which just made it seem cave-like.  We lived with it for two years, and then I couldn't stand it anymore.  I chose a blue kind of like faded denim jeans and repainted the room.

But after five years, I realized that the blue was just too blue to be neutral, and it really limited my ability to change the look of the room by changing the bedding (and I don't have a prayer of changing the look by moving the furniture--you don't rearrange the furniture in a 10x11 bedroom because there's only one way it fits...and barely at that).

So on Saturday morning, I went to Sherwin Williams in search of a nice grey.

Hmmm.  Do you know how many greys there are? Some are bluish, some greenish, some khaki-ish.  I finally chose one that looked grey next to the pale blues but is actually bluish after all--kind of like sea glass.

Here's the room on Saturday morning after I took down the pictures and before I painted. We had to just work around the furniture:

And here's that same corner with the new color on the walls and everything back in place:

With Sherwin Williams paint running $45 a gallon WITH my coupon, I was determined to get by with one gallon.  So we opted not to paint the heat registers (one is behind the bed anyway, and the one in this picture is my version of an accent wall):

There's a story behind the curtains too.

The painting took only a few hours because we were doing only the walls, not the ceiling or trim.

So at about 2:00, with the bed remade, the pictures rehung, and the mess cleaned up, kittens called to us.

Our favorite antique store, Brandywine View in Chadds Ford, Pa., had been posting pix on Facebook of a stray cat they had taken in.  Last week, they discovered that she had kittens in a box on their porch.

I can't resist kittens, so off we went. (No, I wasn't going to bring one home, but it was a good excuse to go there on a rainy Saturday afternoon.)

How cute are these two little dudes?

While we were there, I sorted through a pile of grain sacks and decided I could make curtains out of them for the bedroom.  It's hard to get good pix in this room because of the light and the size of the room, but I'm happy with how they turned out. We open our windows from the top down for air, so I use just short cafe curtains on the bottom half of both windows for privacy:

Now that it's all done, Doug admits that he likes the new color.

He just hates change.