Two projects had come to mind with our three-day weekend coming up: One, to finally finish my office to include the treadmill/desk. Two, to put out our upside-down container garden.

Monday morning, I’d been thinking about it and I’m ready to get into it. So like a complete idiot, I decide to go ahead and start on project one — which ends up as a massive rearranging of my office, removing the return, taking down shelves, moving lights, general chaos. About 2 1/2 hours in I message James — from the ever-wonderful Netbook that is keeping me on top of things — “Help. I’ve destroyed my office. Hurricane good intentions has struck.” I’m sitting on a sturdy-enough unidentified pile, as I type, and I hear the phone ring. I manage to find the phone. It is Joyce, asking if I’d gotten the news that JC spent the night in the ICU. I had not — as I’d already cut Facebook from my distraction list for the day.

A couple hours later, at the prompting of my insistent stomach, I manage to clear a path to get out of the office and make some lunch. The phone rings. It is mom asking if I’d talked to Joyce. I had, and I’d even checked my messages since and heard more news, which I imparted to mom. It was 2:50 as we spoke, and he had been scheduled for tests at around 2:30. No news yet. Mom asks if I’d heard about Joyce’s tests, and I realize I hadn’t even asked — I am mental — but then imparts she’d already heard there was nothing new in the results. More tests to come all around. I hang up and realize I hadn’t asked if Mom ever found her keys, missing since she’d visited us.

Okay, let’s pause this entry for an hour, wherein a patiently indulgent JamesT and I humor to move the treadmill from it’s longtime home downstairs, up to my office. Here is where random snaps and pops that don’t actually seem to indicate any breaks of the machine make me nervous, and we proceed to fuck up our linoleum, two walls, a door frame and our stair railing in the process. Like for serious, fuck up. Gouges. Splinters. Holes. And I can’t help thinking, wonder if I could have just bought a cheap walking treadmill for upstairs for the price of what it will take to fix our house I just broke. The treadmill is now, however, upstairs — where it will live until it biodegrades. I’m certain the mere mention of the treadmill again will constitute a forfeiture of our marriage.

Rewinding the day, I did obviously manage to unbury and rearrange my office, and did not hear further on anybody’s test results. JamesT makes it home, and just when I’m positive I can’t do more than lift a finger to order pizza, I end up cooking dinner. Now it looks like the hurricane went through the kitchen as well, but I’ll deal with that tomorrow.

At some point just after dinner, we are sitting on the couch and hear a strange noise… cracking… fireworks? but its daytime. No clue, so we carry on. Soon after we are in my office formulating shelf ideas to hold my monitor when we hear another strange noise… this time, we find the source. Chainsaw. Looks like the neighbors are in the corner of our yard — by the stop sign — cutting down one of our trees. In fact what has happened was that a huge termite-ridden section has given way and fallen to block the road. Neighbor with chainsaw tells us he left to jog and it was fine, he came back and it was across the road. He didn’t see any lights on in our house, so he just decided to take care of it himself. You know, never mind that there were tons of lights on, and the tv upstairs if he’d even tried to come to the door, which he so obviously didn’t, but there’s really no good view from here into our house — or we’d likely have spotted the tree ourselves.

Whatever the reason, he decided to cut the dang thing cut into manageable chunks all by himself. He had at last drawn the attention of a few other neighbors who were helping by the time we heard the noise, so all James ended up doing tonight was raking some small limbs and leaves from the road. It’s all out of the way enough for now — but looks like we’ll need to borrow that chainsaw again for some massive yard work on Wednesday. And really, looks like we need a tree doctor ASAP to see if the rest of that big tree can be saved.

And now it’s 10, and my all of me hurts. I’m sure James’ already sore shoulder has been joined by his sore all of him. This treadmill is about 10 million pounds, I was stupid to think it could magically appear up here, and he knows he was stupid to indulge me, but it is here. Still be a couple days before I have my monitor mounts up and can rehang the shelves and such, but soon this project will be complete. I only hope James can tolerate me long enough to appreciate what it was all for. I only hope this whole “project” hasn’t really just been hurricane good intentions.

Playdate in the park? Easy up, chairs, picnic blanket, all carried on the rockin’ cooler with wheels. Free, fun sun park pleasure. Me likey. We must do again!

Happy Birthday again, Laura! What a great idea for a gathering!

Except, word of warning: if there is a posted sign for restroom hours, you’d better damn well know what time it is before you walk in there, because Piedmont Park security will bar the door on your asses!

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• Chico enjoying being dognapped for the day… http://twitpic.com/1q6giu about 2 hours
• Post Highlander birthday shot. http://twitpic.com/1q67be about 3 hours ago
• Wandering park minstrel http://twitpic.com/1q5qth about 3 hours ago
• Sidewalk chalk… http://twitpic.com/1q5of8 about 4 hours ago
• “we killed nicola. Now its a party.” http://twitpic.com/1q5mbi about 4 hours ago
• Love this downtown park! http://twitpic.com/1q5j4c about 4 hours ago 
• Hrm. Is this an actual artist? http://twitpic.com/1q4r8y about 6 hours ago
• Bocce anyone? http://twitpic.com/1q4gdo about 6 hours ago
• Easy up. Easy destroyed. http://twitpic.com/1q44yl about 7 hours ago
• Do NOT go in there! http://twitpic.com/1q41vi about 7 hours ago
• Dogs r smart, mmmkay http://twitpic.com/1q3zgj about 7 hours ago
• Playdate n the park. http://twitpic.com/1q375q about 9 hours ago

The car is on empty, the fridge is on empty, and my energy level is on empty. Apparently I left it all in Florida at the beach. Perhaps I should just go back for it…

All I have wanted to do this week is nap, with a side of napping. The slightest bit of food wakes me up a minute, then puts me into a carb-coma or something. Nothing really tastes right, as the pollen-count hit me as soon as we got home, and after some delish seafood at the beach, everything here just tastes like snot.

I need to find some motivation. Somewhere in the bottom of whatever bag I took to the beach is my camera full of pictures that I still haven’t pulled. Most of my dirty laundry is still in my suitcase. The dishes of this week are piled in the sink. Not really sure of what I’ve done at all this week except sit in front of the computer for work.

Tonight, perhaps we’ll test out the new audio setup and riff some movie. There must be something in there I can cook for dinner… and perhaps cooking will encourage me to finally clean up the kitchen. Tomorrow should be fun in the sun (hopefully) in the park for Laura’s birthday.

I’m almost afraid to write down that we don’t have Memorial Day weekend plans yet — it’s too weird to even fathom. First 3 weekends of June are booked, first 2 of July. Will San Diego happen in August? Dunno. Two fall festivals to shoot in October. Can’t wrap my brain around it all.

And now to top it off, I have the urge to try Zumba — just because Bruce joined a group called “husbands who hate Zumba”. There seem to be some nearby classes in clubhouses for apartments, so I might wander over and see if anybody can show up.

This evening I had the pleasure of meeting Chad’s wife and her fair-haired children. I mentioned on Facebook that I was actually stunned to realize that I’d never met them before — Chad comes up to Alabama to deer hunt over Thanksgiving or New Years every few years so we’ve seen him, but the big visit with Beth and the kids was only relived in stories and pictures for us since we weren’t there. Still, the muffin-nazi, the surprise-wedding, the kids forced to dig a hole in the driveway for entertainment when their 4-wheeler wouldn’t start… all seemed so familiar.

I am the kid-whisperer this trip, though. The lovely miss Skyler, who is 12, struck up conversation with me shortly after being introduced, since I reminded her of Kim Possible, and we hung out all through dinner. She was hilarious, quick-witted, and generally fun to interact with, and she hopes to either grow up to be a singer, a graphic designer, or a roller-coaster designer. After our invisible game at dinner, I figured she might have said actress or comedienne, but then she starting elaborating on some of her coaster ideas and it was clear she’s got some talent there, too.

Her little brother, Riley, who is 5, was just a hoot — even though he’s not his actual son, his silliness reminds me of young Chad. The kid was introduced to us while his eyes were practically swollen shut with allergies from the cats where they’d been staying for the wedding. Apparently smacking himself in the eye occasionally made them feel better, so he kept doing it. He informed us when he turned 6 his allergies were going to go away.

So our hotel, actually quite the find I think, has a lovely courtyard with a tropical garden full of paths, little hidden patios and gas grills, shuffleboard areas and a nice pool. After our dinner at Captain J’s (where the kids eat calamari calling it Squidbert), we hang out by the pool and chat some. They don’t have suits so they can’t swim, and being by the pool is making both the kids crazy. Riley is enjoying seeing how far he can run down one of the garden paths — through the giant blooming and quite fragrant gardenia — before he’s made his mother equally crazy and she yells at him. Each time he is called back he sneezes his head off for a few minutes, smacks himself in the eyes, and then starts all over. 

Chad also informed us that Riley had an “entertainingly short” gag reflex, so if you pretend to say, put your finger in his ear then touch him on the lip, the kid starts gagging and it’s apparently quite funny. As there was some bird-poo he spotted on our chairs by the pool, we got a demonstration as Chad went after him with one fake touch of the poo then headed for his face. He’s also a sucker for the old pointing and saying “What’s that!” — as he’ll stare and stare trying to figure out what you’ve spotted. Silly and entertaining. Much too soon they all had to leave, still 2-hours drive home for them and tomorrow is a school day.

Anywho… too much sun, too much walking, too much “relaxing” and we’re all beat here. All but Team Thornton are in bed already, and this half of the team is about to go. It will inevitably be an early morning, and it will unavoidably be a long long drive home. We’re simply going to have to make a lot of stops for mom this time to make it more bearable for her, so pretty much the ride home will likely be an all-day thing.

So, I apparently forgot the reflection of sun on the sand can also give you a crispy burn. Finished “Spooky Little Girl” today, even when the rest of the fam had given up and headed for the pool/room. The arm of the lounger spared a nice even line down the length of my arm from the reflected burn, though, so I guess you could say I have skunk-arm.

Beach accomplished, though only twice in the ocean today for me. When my bottoms got yanked down to my knees on that second venture into the waves, I figured I’d spare the beachgoers any further exploits of mine and just go read. Also forgot how weird everything looks after you’ve spent a day staring at a bright sunlit page. Wonder how long this strange haze will last.

James and Pete boogied most of the day, which was quite the workout. Joyce decided those boards were dangerous and would have none of them, but continued to play in the water without it. They all exclaimed they wouldn’t need neti pots for a while as their sinuses were thoroughly salt-water washed.

Mini-golf might be out, as it looks like instead we’re meeting up with some family passing back from a wedding in Miami on their way back to Jacksonville. That means it’ll be visit number three to Captain J’s on the beach, but the margaritas are good there. Whoop, there’s Pete’s phone… looks like company is here.

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Can’t tell you how much I enjoyed getting sand in my book today — thanks Pete! Of course, it does mean I was reading on the beach, so couldn’t be a bad day after that.

Morning – beach & pool, afternoon – Kennedy Space Center tours, evening – netbook by the pool while the live band plays in the courtyard. *le sigh*

Made a little friend at the pool today — Amy, age 9, girlscout, only child, red-headed and bored out of her mind. She’s slept under the Saturn V rocket at the visitors center and met an astronaut. We’d been at the pool maybe 2 minutes when she comes over to me — “I know you guys are adults but could I please hang out with you a few minutes… I’m so bored!” We were the only other adults IN the pool at the time, but there were some folks on the other end sunbathing and such. I assumed some were her family at first, but no.

Marco Polo was considered, as were some diving competitions, underwater swimming and breath holding contests, but in the end we just played the “I’ll pretend to be a statue near the water and you be somebody posing for a picture who leans on the statue and accidentally pushes it in” game. Intrigued by her creative game idea, I played along. It’s pretty fun, actually, and we ended up with others helping “accidentally” to knock us statues in.

Not willing to get up at 6 am while on vacation though, James and I were starving so we had to depart, grabbed the gang for lunch, then headed to the Kennedy Space Center Visitor Center for the afternoon. Apparently us getting to see the crawler while on the bus tour was quite the rare occurence there, and it was pretty cool.

Also got to see the VIP area for astronauts friends and family to watch the launches. Later we were told that the next generation of astronauts are probably in the 7-17 year old range right now, so it’s time to get encouraging all those kids we know to get into the field so we can have VIP seats in the future. Best to plan ahead, don’t you know.

Funniest comment today: Mom, after the “Shuttle Launch Experience” — “That was like a nice massage.” Obviously said by a woman who has never had a massage in her life — which I guess is sad, but it was still funny at the time.

Tomorrow’s plan, beach beach beach – replete with umbrellas, lounge chairs, wake boards and my sand-filled book. Maybe finish the afternoon with some mini-golf.

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• Live music…hotel courtyard…awesome http://twitpic.com/1o5s6x 12 mins ago
• On a steeek! http://twitpic.com/1o5qvr 16 mins ago
• Hard 2 nap w/tvs going http://twitpic.com/1nper1 1 day ago

Walked so much today my calves won’t stop twitching, but it was a good walk on the beach. Once again this trip already makes me want to live in such a locale… just so I can go miles and miles on the beach and it not seem like exercise until after.

Great day, great dinner, followed by late night driving around again looking for photo vantage points of the shuttle by night. Alarm is set for 6:30AM so why am I still up goofing on the computer? Oh yeah… walked so much today my calves won’t stop twitching.

Anywho… little photo follow me action

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• Sand sea turtle http://twitpic.com/1nioee 7 hrs ago
• Shuttle gear @ da pier. http://twitpic.com/1nikur 7 hrs ago
• Spying on da cruz ships… http://twitpic.com/1nibld 8 hrs ago
• Space View Park http://twitpic.com/1nhiyn 10 hrs ago
• Jetty park =] http://twitpic.com/1ng7wl 13 hrs ago

Or I should say, the idleness that was February. February has been a battle of laziness and sickness, and that’s all the excuse I have. Tried despite the slack to make an effort to eat smarter, which is hopefully working itself into a routine. Trying three supplements in this “eat smarter” routine, which I’ll go into later.

Meanwhile, I am enjoying a new mile a day walk video with the same mellow Leslie Sansone. Doing the same mile video over and over — Morning Mile, is what I had — gets old so fast, so this is one video with 5- 1 mile workouts, each with a little variation, and so far so good. The total of 6 1-miles, even at just 15 minutes a pop, has been a nice thing to work in on my morning “Get Up! alarm”. I have room right in the office, and it’s an easy way to make the most of a break from desk-time.

Still haven’t really managed to work in any real extended workout back into the routine, but I have been digging up new options. Kit has all the Beachbody-p90x dvds at her house for when we manage to meet up there, and I’ve now gotten all the Beachbody-Insanity on the video share here. I guess we’re both crazy! Loaded up some of the higher-rated free Netflix videos to stream at home, too.

Lastly, picked up some toe-socks (that fit!) which have made the VFFs a whole lot more comfortable to workout in. Those and the updated Nike+ software and Nike band should prompt me to hit the treadmill ASAP — I’m thinking today!

Okay, now nothing left but that boring supplements info:

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Alice in Chains - 2010

After a long hiatus the members of ALICE IN CHAINS have decided to honor their musical legacy by taking their beloved songs to the road this spring/summer. JERRY CANTRELL, MIKE INEZ and SEAN KINNEY will be joined by WILLIAM DUVALL, who will handle lead vocals for the group’s five U.S. club shows and overseas festival performances in Europe and Southeast Asia.

KINNEY told Reuters, “We’re not trying to replace Layne…We want to play these songs one more time, and if it seems like the right thing to do, it’ll happen. I don’t know how long it will go or where it will take us. It’s kind of a tribute to Layne and our fans, the people who love these songs.”

Alice in Chains - 1992

After the 2002 death of LAYNE STALEY, the members of ALICE IN CHAINS continued on with their projects until a 2005 benefit in Seattle. Overwhelmed by the Tsunami, they were moved to put together a charity show for CARE. It was the first time the band performed together in eight years. Five months later, KINNEY posed the question, “Should we go round the world and play these songs one more time.” Their March 2006 performance on the “VH1 Decades Rock Live” tribute to Heart in Atlantic City confirmed that their fans still wanted to hear them live. This year, JERRY CANTRELL, SEAN KINNEY and MIKE INEZ are thrilled to be reunited and returning to the music they created and the legacy that is ALICE IN CHAINS.

Obviously the original notion of “one more time” and “we’re not replacing Layne” has turned into “these songs are a part of us, so we will play them even though we have a new album”. I guess this was still the concert for me, as they played everything I loved. I understand, though, that in 2007 they did a tour opening for Nine Inch Nails in Australia… now that would have been my concert. Just kill me afterwards, since I couldn’t top it.

I’d been actively avoiding information about AiC 2.0 for a long time, and only really started listening to their new release lately. As James put it “it sounds like all the AiC I don’t care for” — which is, of course, all the AiC I play over and over singing, and apparently that much is true for at least Bruce, too. I like the new stuff because it sounds like the old stuff — which just adds to the jive punk doing his Layne Staley impression vibe to me. I keep calling him “jive” because that massive fro — though cool as hell — does not the lead singer of a “grunge” band make, and “punk” because the dude had so much energy he made the rest of the band look like they needed wheelchairs. The Atlanta born Duval, I discovered, is 42, a whole year younger than Jerry Cantrell. So, obviously the “vibe” being  off is just visually to me. Close your eyes and for the most part, those old songs sound like those old songs — hell probably better than the latter years drug-attled Staley would have sounded on tour — or so I continue to tell myself.

I guess bottom line, these guys have the Alice in Chains sound that I loved, Duvall has the voice, I’m enjoying the new stuff and happy to hear the old stuff, so Layne or no, I’m a fan. Wish I had tickets for tonight, too.

I’ve mentioned briefly how happy Mom has seemed lately, and how that’s led to repeated “good talks” on the phone. J&P actually had a (couple) great visit recently where apparently they thought she might be “back on the meds” for social anxiety — but she says she isn’t. She’s just happy.

Oh, she hates the winter, all the snow they’ve had, the cold, the insane electric bill from when her heat pump freaked out, and now all the worrying about having enough wood for the fireplace. However, she took action and traded her — my old car, actually — in on something newish, and it was her first time picking out a car on her own. Sure, she stuck with Chevy — channeling the spirit of Dad — and she got a 4-door silver suv when she traded in her 4-door silver suv, but she did it herself.

At first I thought she was just happy with the purchase of a more reliable vehicle with a working radio and the confidence she could leave that boring winter whiteness if she really wanted, but I’m starting to suspect she’s feeling a bit empowered at her own ability to make decisions. This coming after her taking the reins in December to set up her own cable/phone/internet and consciously keep me out of the loop so I couldn’t arrange payment for her. She was so happy to call and tell me to be sure to stop paying the bill on her old service because she was canceling it.

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