Throwing My Skirt Up
DISCLAIMER: No living creature was harmed in the updating of this web site. Unless one counts overheard bursts of profanity. Or the pieces of furniture and bits of technology that were beaten to a pulp. Marriages were strained, but they remain intact. We are not responsible for additional damage to persons and property caused by makeup sex.
Please note that e-mail addresses mentioned on all pages will NOT be active until Wednesday, February 5, 2014. And, give a big round of applause to Carnell for figuring out the mess that was my prior e-mail service.
Even though I’ve been sporadic around here, you’ve been on my mind, Dear Reader. My hand shriveled into a claw from writing letters to you, and I may have the licking-and-sticking disease that killed Susan, George Costanza’s fiance.
Please look for your letters to arrive in your mailboxes in the next 10 days. (And, if you haven’t already given me your mailing address, please send it to me at andra(at)positusonline(dot)com. Make me write more letters. Come on. Make me.)
Aside from screaming at my computer and writing letters, here’s what I’ve been doing:
A rest break at Mount Pleasant Waterfront Park during a 15-mile walk.
A pause during a 10-mile walk on the West Ashley Greenway.
A fifteen mile walk in the rain.
A brief pause at Patriot’s Point during a fifteen miler.
I don’t know how many miles I’ve logged, but my feet are ship-shape. Everything is working, even when it gets tired.
The worst part is the loneliness. It’s especially embarrassing to be caught talking to myself on a long stretch…..those people tend to turn and walk quickly in the other direction……..without looking back.
I’m equal parts exhilarated and petrified of what’s to come. Thank you for being there, Dear Reader.