We had to twist her arm, but Jake and I got Jessie to join us for our workout. But, like anybody else, she was glad she did and when she headed back to the house she was just plain pumped! We had one good laugh out there while doing "Bat Wings." In this exercise you lay face down on the bench while holding dumbbells up at your armpits, squeezing your shoulder blades together. Our deal was to do 5 sets of 10 seconds each. Typically what we do is count Mississippi's. But while I was doing a set Jake counted 1, then seemed to start thinking of something else. I figured that when he continued the count he'd pick up at 3 or 4; instead, after the long pause he picked up at 2. I started laughing so hard I ended up dropping the weights. Probably you had to be there, but when I say there's nothing quite like a good laugh with your children, I'm sure you know what I mean.

Today I went to see the taxman, then decided to pop into the barber shop for a haircut on my way home. While I was getting snipped (don't think I've used that expression since my vasectomy -- ha!), a couple young fellers I know drove up in a big honking 4X4. I said, must be nice, driving around in that thing in the snow. Yeah, it's good, the young buck says. Well, I wouldn't know, I say, I'm driving around in my old man car. Don't worry, says Wayne, the barber, you'll have a truck soon. You have so many vehicles you should have a dealer plate. That's what my father-in-law says, I say, every time I see him. Then I say, I'm slowing down though, I'm surprised you haven't noticed. Yeah, Wayne says, you've had that vehicle for two haircuts now. That's my marker, I tell him. Every third haircut I get a different car.
Now you know.

There's my favorite workout partner, enjoying a stroll with his dad on our day off. Notice we don't have to fight for space with the snowmobiles. Today I took a couple of kids out on the nature trail behind the school. One of them made a comment about it being spring. I said, you know it's actually winter, right? He said, no, there's no snow on the ground, so it's spring. If you live in Maine, these are the mental gymnastics you have to play. Obviously he is just wise beyond his years.

Remember the blurry pictures Cara took of Jessie Sweet? Well, obviously Jake is a chip off his mother's block. I asked him to take a picture of me when we were working out today so as to show you the crazy clothing I wear to exercise in the frigid temps, but he seems to have cut off half my head. Not only that, you don't get to see my furry boots, which was sort of the point of the whole thing. You see, the workouts we're doing would normally leave you in a pool of sweat, but it's been so cold that I don't know what's worse, my aching muscles or my frost-bit feeling toes. But, me, I look at the bright side: no blackflies.

A little bit more on the pleasure is the pain principle. I don't seem to like things until I hate them first. For example, sometimes at work a student will be sharing the tough roads they travel with me, and there will be tears and tissues and misery, and I will think, "I can't do this any more." I just can't take the suffering. But I will put my whole being into the listening, I will exercise the best part of being human: compassion. And, lo and behold, the storm will pass. I will have "eased the pain," as my professor, Dr. Lurie, used to say when I was in graduate school, and I will think, "I love this job." I am so blessed to feel useful, maybe even needed. So, for me, work is pleasure.

But it was at work, on a completely different note, that I started thinking about this pleasure is the pain business. I mentioned to Bonnie that I wanted to steal Ernie away for a February break so that we could go hiking in Virginia. She said, "Do you guys ever remember how you feel when you go hiking, how much pain you're in when you get home?" I said, "Well, you know how it is; it's like childbirth. Once it's over you sort of forget the pain." She wasn't won over by this argument, seeing as how she stopped having kids after creating two of the little buggers.

What can I say? It's just that you feel good after completing a difficult challenge. Jake and I are doing a workout program that puts me in a state of fear every time I think about it. It pretty much turns me to jelly. But there's only 14 total workouts (which get progressively more difficult) and we've completed five so far. Pretty soon we'll reach the halfway point and slide down the hill for home.

Or is it more like Sisyphus pushing the rock up the hill?

Yesterday the temperature got stuck in the single digits and I spent most of it indoors. Today, with the warm front bringing it into the teens, I went for a walk with the wifey, then did a workout with Jake with the shed doors wide open to the beautiful sun. It makes me feel rugged and good when I workout in the cold. Why? I don't know. Obviously it doesn't put me on a higher moral plane than your average couch potato. But that's all you can do in life: find what makes you feel good and stick to it.

This is what happens when I let things slide. Yesterday I was finally poised to take a photo for a new post when, oops, there it goes again, my battery died. But at least my own ticker--you know, my heart--is working fine. I just got back from walking Lucy and let me tell you, baby, it's cold outside. This, of course, led me to conclude that I needed to prove the old adage about there being no bad weather, just bad clothing. So I was all set to go on a mini-hike with a couple of layers and a face mask when I realized it might interfere with my New Year's resolution. So, I'll be getting real prayerful soon, then maybe take on the great outdoors in the afternoon. I've been jonesing to get out on the Appalacian Trail, so if I start to complain this summer about the rocks and the roots and my aching knees, give me a smack.

To those who would see the Maine wilderness, tramp day by day through a succession of ever delightful forest, past lake and stream, and over mountains, we would say: Follow the Appalachian Trail across Maine. It cannot be followed on horse or awheel. Remote for detachment, narrow for chosen company, winding for leisure, lonely for contemplation, it beckons not merely north and south but upward to the body, mind and soul of man.
--Myron Avery, In the Maine Woods, 1934

Myron Avery is the first "2,000 miler"--seeing as how he measured the original trail. If not for his efforts, in fact, there would be no trail. And he hails from good old Lubec (Sun rises first!) Maine.

Today we went for a walk and finished in the soft pink glow of the setting sun. Yep, the days are getting longer. Hallelujah and all of that. Actually, with the full moon it feels like it's barely getting dark. Although I'm still a bit curtailed, I'm back to working out with Jake. He's doing a Dan John bulk up program. I'm doing the same exercises, but, if anything, losing a bit of weight--perhaps because I'm forgoing the recommended 12 PB&J's a day washed down with a protein shake. I did make my own almond butter this weekend, which is about the easiest thing on earth. I wish I had known that sooner, seeing as how almond butter costs about $10 a jar and when you make it yourself it's a fraction of the cost. OK, once again I'm boring myself to tears, so I guess I'll talk to you later.

Adventures from 10 Free Street. Last summer Edith and Judy were driving down the road when Edith noticed that Judy had run a Stop sign. Wow, Edith thought, that's dangerous. She didn't even notice. What should I do? Before she could decide what to say, Judy ran another Stop sign. At this point Edith just blurted out, Are you aware that you've run two Stop signs?! Stunned, Judy responded, Oh, am I driving?
I kid, honestly, that DID NOT HAPPEN. I just heard the joke, told simply as "two women were driving down the road," and for some reason I pictured Judy and Edith in the starring roles.
Go figure.

Today was a criss-cross day. Cara and Jessie settled into their Boston visit while Jake returned home. Sister Alice and Rabbi Chris (he does look like a Rabbi with the beard, but does he still have the beard?) must feel like they're running a hotel for the Marshfield branch of their adoring family. Alice told me I'd have to ask Jake about their "decadent" lifestyle; but I didn't have to do that, because Jake volunteered that he was ready to go back to being a plant eater--even turned down my offer to defrost his Tidemill Farms steak. Well, anyway, I am so happy to have Jake back. We had some salad and some bean soup and watched some football. It's between games right now, so we're taking a breather, but I must confess I have no higher ambition than to spend a good portion of the weekend staring at the flat screen.
I did, however, earlier today go for a nice little hike on a dirt road skimmed with snow (now already melted) where I continued to ponder my future as it relates to the Appalacian Trail. I've gone back and forth regarding whether I would ever complete a thru-hike, but have come to the conclusion that I would most definitely like to hike the whole trail, albeit mostly in section and day hikes. Before happening on the blog I mentioned the other day, I really only conceived of the trail in terms of backpacking, but the day hike option adds a dimension (namely including partners who don't necessarily fancy sleeping on the ground) that puts the odds of completing the trail solidly in my favor.
Anybody up for a drive down South in February?

There's something about this frigid weather that gets me thinking of hiking--a longing for birdsong and leaves on the trees, I suppose. Anyway, I just happened across the blog of a guy who's planning to "yo-yo" the Appalacian Trail. That is, he will hike it in both directions--a total of over 4200 miles--in less than a year. But the twist (and a pretty neat one in my book) is that he will do it solely via day hikes. He will not sleep out on the trail; rather, he will park at trailheads and do out-and-back day hikes. He's retired (63 years old), so he has the time, and though I've never met him, he also seems to have the heart. I'll be rooting for him, that's for sure.
As soon as I read of his plans I got to fantasizing about Cara and I buying a VW camper van when we retire and trying the same thing. I haven't broken this news to her yet--but I guess the cat's out of the bag now.

This blurry shot of Jessie getting her read on was taken by staff photographer Chilly P. How she can manage seven straight blurry photos with a point-and-shoot camera is anybody's guess. But let's give the beautiful lady her artistic license. Jessie is reading a book she got for Christmas from Grandma E (as in Edith, not Easy). It's about improving your memory, a subject dear to Easy's heart. Confusing, I know.
Now I guess this is more coincidence than confusing, but when all this book exchanging was going on my mother asked Cara and me what we were reading. Cara said she was reading a book called Unhooked; I said, that's strange, I'm reading a book called Unhooked. But it's not the same book. The subtitle of hers is "How Young Women Pursue Sex, Delay Love and Lose at Both"; the subtitle of mine is "How to Quit Anything."
I can't speak for my wife's reading material, but I can give you a concise book report on mine: if you want to quit something, get ready to suffer.