Awesome x-country ski today along the Machias River with Greg B. We're both fit and trim, I think, in comparison to all the big-bottoms we saw on snowmobiles. Probably about 50 snowmobiles zoomed past, but we didn't meet up with a single other skier. It's always that way, and I know it shouldn't bother me, but I can't help but wonder why others don't think it's fun to work that body. Yeah, I know, I'm a fresh air freak--but isn't that the "way life should be" when you live in Maine?
I walk alone--or, more precisely, I snowshoe by myself in the bitter cold. Loudly I invited all comers in my packed house to enjoy nature's goodness, but the response--deafening silence--said it all, by of course saying nothing at all. I'm laboring over this post because my strength was sapped trying to load the above photo of the heath. You see, all these Internet hogs, who are hard wired to their laptops, are gumming up the Wifi works here at Chez Rottersman/Cirillo. Please, young people, get outside for some exercise and fresh air!
Jake works the speed-rope...
Rocks some pull-ups...
And busts out some push-ups...
Merry, merry Christmas!
Is this the best Christmas Eve ever? The Colby Mules, a Black Bear and Eve loaded firewood into the basement, accomplishing in an hour what would have taken me days. I don't want to be president, but I would like to have a staff.
Jessie packs it out past Pinhead the Snowman.
Nothing more fun than a good wood toss on a sunny Winter day!
The Colby contingent enjoying the great gray day. Not to paint myself heroic, but I saved them from being swallowed by their laptops. Yes, the addiction to Facebook is universal--so let's stop complaining about American youth. There I go: talking to myself again.
"Pop" Cirillo gave me this cool Western Union sign for my sunroom--or, as Debbie calls it: my "happy place." Did you know that Abe Lincoln used to walk across the street from the White House every day to the Western Union office to check in with his generals during the Civil War?
Notice the beautifully decorated tree. I didn't lift a bulb!
But it was a worldwide effort. Eye (Thailand), Jessie (boring old USA), Amila (Bosnia) and Hieu (Vietnam) did all the heavy lifting. Yes, it's good to have a staff--especially one that's so youthful, smart, well-traveled and good-looking.
Of course, Jake (which rhymes with Max) isn't all that enthused about tree-trimming; so he got the distinctive pleasure of lugging firewood. Everybody works!!!
I did the photos backwards--Jake, the manchild wonder, and Cara, my lady love, were supposed to be walking towards you. It would be like one of those flip books from your childhood. I thought I did it right--in the mode of the last will be first--but, you know what?!!!--I messed up again! Another exclamation point? Are you kidding?? BAM!!!!!!!
You see how the icicles practically touch the ground? Quite the tableau, I'd say, and makes you that more appreciative of the toasty fire. Nice way to decompress from the work-week, sitting by the stove and enjoying a poor man's latte.
When you eat at a place like this you must be punished. Of course, it was a week ago now that I ate there--first place Cara and I hit on the road--but it wouldn't surprise me if the sludge is still running through my veins.
As I waited to board my plane on Friday there was a report on the blaring TV that people were stuck on I-90 in Buffalo for 20 hours due to the "lake effect" storm. This, of course, was the exact route Cara and I would be traveling. But luck was with us all the way: we skirted one storm after another. Cleveland, Erie, Buffalo: we dodged them all. And then, still rolling 6's, we woke up to a snow day. After 24 hours of driving, we needed it. Plus I got to try out the Wovel (pictured above); it did a stellar job, as you can see below. It's a bit time-consuming, but the advertising is true: you can move a ton of snow with no sore back. It is a workout, though, which in my book is a good thing.
View from the dooryard, post grunting and groaning in the woods. You people probably heard of my sister's 3-day fast--awe-inspiring, if perhaps on the kooky side. Well, in my current bachelorhood I decided to try out my own program of self-denial. A bit ironic, I guess, since it's when the wife is away that you should feel free to gorge on greasy cheeseburgers. At any rate, I've spent the last couple of days essentially subsisting on green smoothies. The thing of it is, though, it's so tasty that the "suffering" is a treat. The recipe is as follows (you'll notice there are no measurements; I just dump stuff into the blender):
Always now I'm a day behind. Yesterday I went from a houseful to emptiness, like a bubble that just burst. Yet the sun shined brightly--it had been so long--and I decided on a slow meditative walk around the back 40. Oh, that light dusting of snow, like sugar on fried dough, it just makes me feel so sweet on the earth.
Yesterday was my kind of day. First the family hug-up in the sunroom, then Jessie told me she wanted to do the woodshed workout. She's pictured above doing the bear crawl, which segues into pushups, then the flipover to the crab walk (pictured below). We also did ab work with the kettlebell and assorted other exercises. But if that's not enough for one man's happiness, Jake invited me for a walk in the afternoon. We did the Tanya Loop and it was just beautiful with the crunch of snow underfoot and the mist rising off the pond. Stupid me: I didn't bring the camera.
This is my new favorite exercise: the bicycle pull-up. It works your back, abs, arms, shoulders and parts of your body you didn't even know you had.
The love...
the pride...
Perfect weekend in Beantown. Thanks to my most excellent brother-in-law Chris for the tickets to the football game. Pictured here are my long lost cousin Kevin and me with our good friend Doug Flutie. Before the game I had the pleasure of showing Chris and Kevin the key elements of the woodshed workout at their fancy Boston fitness club. I guess I should apologize to Ernie and Corey for not offering valet parking. Yeah, that's right, guys in red jackets at-the-ready to park your car before you get sweaty.
As always, my mother is my best librarian. She loaned me this book, which is about the experience of the poet Baron Wormser living off the grid in the woods in Central Maine with his wife and two daughters. They lived without power, running water, etc. for 25 years. He talks a lot about the spiritual (my word) nature of heating with wood--the felling of trees, the meditative quality of splitting wood. He said that each time he put a stick of wood into the stove he could remember its origin. I'm not quite at that level, but there really is something about doing for yourself. Anyway, this book is beautifully written; he makes the mundane magical.
Behold, in the Land of Birch Wisdom, the human mule, hauling a cubit of wood to his ark--after the flood. Oh, the backwards way of it all. What wisdom, what strength, and such a happy grin. Yes, put the man in the great outdoors--or in his backyard--and let him bray, let him howl at the moon, let him carry his wood, so that he can feel good... when he spends hours on the couch, reading and dozing, impersonating the Mighty Uncle Max.
