Monday, February 20, 2012

It's a mystery to me

Why haven't you decided to follow me on my new blog?

I ponder the notion.

If you already do, half of me begs your forgiveness for this (perhaps) annoying little post.

The other half of me is sweeping the cat hair off my floor with my hair.

Oh, yeah - that's a standing forward bend.

Whatever it is, please do it with me over at!

There's a new post.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

New Address


I have been considering using wordpress to host my blog.  I decided in the process to retool and focus my intentions for my blog.  The process bore a new blog with a new address.  Own Your Backbone lives on for a while as I transition to my new digs.

Wordpress (thankfully) does not allow you to tranfer followers from one blog to another.  Makes perfect sense.  As I build my base I would so appreciate your considering following me at:


Thanks and I look forward to 'seeing' you around the blogosphere.  Have a wonderful/happy day!


Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Carole King and Pit Bull: An uncommon good

What can Carole King and Pitbull possibly have in common?

She croons about the earth moving:                           He's the International Love:
I feel the earth move under my feet                        You put it down like New York City
I feel the sky tumbing down                                    I never sleep, wild like Los Angeles
I feel my heart start to tremblin'                             My fantasy, hotter than Miami
Whenever you're around.                                        I feel the heat
                                                                                Oh Miss International Love
                                                                                 Oh Miss International Love

On February 11, from the East Coast to the West and all over the world, people everywhere are showing International Love.  From Turkey to Tokyo to Cairo.  From Virginia, to Florida to Montana to Colorado to Ohio to Iowa - We are moving the earth under our feet, running for Sherry Arnold.  Simultaneously, in complete synchronicity at 9 a.m. (Mountain Time) thousands of people are dedicating their routes to this amazing teacher, wife, mother, daughter, friend and cousin to my Beth. On January 7, Sherry left for her usual run and has not been seen since.  She is presumed dead and two foul, disgusting people are being held in custody for her random murder.  A husband, a parent, a sister, daughter, a son, family, a country, the world is deeply saddened.  But even the most repulsive evil can't stop the earth from moving in love and support for all those so deeply effected by the unspeakable tragedy.   Run, walk, jog, roller blade, skate, dance skip, cartwheel for Sherry and her family on February 11.  
Can we light up the world with international healing love?
Can we make a difference and stop the poison from spreading?
How, you say?!
Move the earth under your feet, baby.  Feb. 11 at 9 a.m (MT). 
Run for Sherry.
That's right.  I'm talking to you.

Be a part of the healing.  Not the hurt. 

Indulge me this little satisfaction:  In the town of Biliston (sp.?) where the SOB's are being held, a huge contingency of runners (aka healers) are moving the earth right near the prison, running right on by for Sherry.   Take that, you scum.  We win.

We all love you Sherry.  We love you Sidney, Montana.  Can you feel it?  You will.  We're moving the earth for you, internationally sending healing love.

If you are in Richmond or Goochland, contact me and I'll hook you up with a bib and deets on where we're putting down 5 miles for Sherry.   Join us or just wear the bib on your own run.  

Sunday, January 29, 2012

I'm not smiling

Warning:  This post contains a number of pictures of me.  I'm not in love with myself.  I am on a mission to spread the Gospel of Sunscreen.  This Truth can save you from face hell.  I am clawing my way up, but it has been no fun down here.

I'm not smiling, because I can't. Think: Mrs. Doubtfire.  She can't fully emote because her meringue (uhh, make-up) will come off. 

I wish my carac ointment tasted like pie.  I wish I could open my mouth that wide.  (TWSS)

I am in week 4 of a chemotherapy cream treatment to remove a number of AK's or precancerous cells from my face.  I have had 4 Mohs (2-forehead, 1-scalp, 1-collarbone) surgeries to remove full-on squamous cell carcinomas.  I am writing about this experience to vent a little, communicate perspective I have gained and to encourage regular use of sunscreen.

The experience.  There are many aspects to this.
  • applying a cream that can burn layers off your face onto new fresh raw skin every morning.  (Cuss, anyone?) 
  • watching as my face progress to gross
  • deal with children in public call me "Creepy"
I realize this is temporary means to a healthy end and that people have it much worse and that essentially I will have undergone a chemical peel and will look a decade younger when I am done.  (Don't be jealous.) 

Kim Cattrall, Sex in the City - did you see that episode?
But, In general I have felt like a prisoner of my face for a month.

Here's the rub, pun intended:  I was/am not a sun-worshipper.  I like a healthy, sun-kissed look and had a couple of Cancun sunburns in college.  But I never could sit still long enough to 'work on my tan'.  My tan, however did work on me. 
This morning.

I have used sunscreen everyday now for a number of years.  You can be sure, it is my mantra from now on; most especially with my children.  THE DAMAGE IS REALLY DONE WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG.

Certainly, I haven't been able to stop working, teaching Yoga or running my children (the nanny is in Aruba)  so it's been interesting to say the least.  BTW, I look good in these photos.  It was alot worse, a creepy mess. 

Before a Bikram Class, yesterday.  The lipstick makes me feel better.

And so...  I go to the doctor on Tuesday to see if any yucky spots are left that need surgery.  My skin will heal.  My children and I have forgotten what I used to look like when they let me come to the bus stop.  They like me to stay at the front door for now.  It's very, very temporary and a relatively short span of time.  Not like real burn victims who undergo months and months of painful treatment.  Every time I get called creepy and want to cuss as I apply the medicine I send healing energy to the burn unit 25 miles away where a young boy, a hero who saved his best friend in fire recovers from his burns.

I will be back at the bus stop soon.  Smiling because I can.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

The Perfect Night

For a few minutes this evening, I had the Perfect Night.  I had just returned from teaching a Yoga class at the Y and my house was empty. Perfection.   It is rare that I am in my home alone.  I crave solitude in the space where I live because most of the time the 3 children, 4 animals, 1 husband and my neurosis make a lot of noise and take up a lot of space.  Not tonight. 

Peace invoked.  Check.  (Om Shanti!)
Wine poured.  Check.  (Om Shanti, Shanti!)
Silly Lifetime Drama on boob tube.  Check.  (Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti!)

Amidst my PMS, frustration over the state of laundry, and my martyrdom (I am the only one who cares about our surroundings, blah, blah, blah) - I found bliss.  Why? I wonder.   I know why.

I AM PREGNANT.  WITH HOPE.  Hope for long lasting peace and contentedness.  Hope for a deeper daily connection with The Divine.  I rubbed my belly and was lit up with the moment.  The only thing we have.  The only thing that's real.  I'm naming her Hope.  Mary must have had The Perfect Night too.  She was truly pregnant with our Hope.  She was not drinking Pinot Grigio, I suspect but having a baby in a barn may have led her to. 

I'm happy because I don't live or birth baby's in a barn.  Thank you!!
I did birth these nuggets and I am so pregnant with hope for them.

I don't even notice the dirty unmatched socks on the kitchen floor.  It was the Perfect Night.  In honor the the Perfect Night of over 2000 years ago, I think I'll do a camel.  (I'm sure there was one nearby.)

My dog loves me!

What are you pregnant with?