Posted in Exercise, Letting Go, Pets

Morning Rescue by Ginger Keller Gannaway

millie bisquitLife

Life slaps me awake.

My two constant companions,

Fear and Worry,

Pull me out of bed.

I often have coffee with these well-known guys.

I read, I write, I pray.

I tell Fear & Worry to get lost, to leave me alone.

They just give me rude sighs and sour burps.

I sip strong coffee; I try to meditate.

But I feel rude in front of my early morning guests.

They don’t care.

Fear is a grossly fat bully and Worry is a half-deaf, slow-witted bore.

I try to ignore them.

Worry spills orange juice on the counter & Fear pushes me off my chair.

(Avoidance never works with these two).

“Look,” I explain. “Ya’ll should move on down the road.”

Fear snorts and farts and gives me a full-frontal cold stare while clueless Worry searches the cabinet for something to eat.

“I got a lot to do today,” I plead.

Worry holds up a stale doughnut.

Then someone snuffles and pads into the kitchen.

“Millie Biscuit!” I smile at my 59 pound Australian shepherd savior.

I gulp the last of my coffee, grab Millie’s leash, pull on my shoes and head for the door.

An irate Fear starts to follow us, but Millie lets out a soft snarl.

Worry lets crumbs fall from his stupid lips and I make my safe getaway.

Posted in Uncategorized

Morning Rescue by Ginger Gannaway

millie bisquitLife

Life slaps me awake.
My two constant companions,
Fear and Worry,
Pull me out of bed.
I often have coffee with these well-known guys.

I read, I write, I pray.
I tell Fear & Worry to get lost, to leave me alone.
They just give me rude sighs and sour burps.
I sip strong coffee; I try to meditate.
But I feel rude in front of my early morning guests.

They don’t care.
Fear is a grossly fat bully and Worry is a half-deaf, slow-witted bore.
I try to ignore them.
Worry spills orange juice on the counter & Fear pushes me off my chair.
(Avoidance never works with these two).

“Look,” I explain. “Ya’ll should move on down the road.”

Fear snorts and farts and gives me a full-frontal cold stare while clueless Worry searches the cabinet for something to eat.
“I got a lot to do today,” I plead.
Worry holds up a stale doughnut.

Then someone snuffles and pads into the kitchen.
“Millie Biscuit!” I smile at my 59 pound Australian shepherd savior.

I gulp the last of my coffee, grab Millie’s leash, pull on my shoes and head for the door.
An irate Fear starts to follow us, but Millie lets out a soft snarl.
Worry lets crumbs fall from his stupid lips and I make my safe getaway.

Posted in Aging process, Exercise, Introspection, Old Age, Pets

Walking my Butt by Ginger Keller Gannaway

Walking my Buttmillies butt

Let me be clear.  I do not enjoy exercise!  I fear weights, treadmills, and machines with names like elliptical.  I avoid any sort of exercise class because the idea of staying in step or keeping time with a roomful of moving bodies makes me sweat more than actually exercising ever could.

However, I will go for a walk.  Mostly I walk my dog. Mostly to give her a sense of freedom and the chance to smell the roses, my neighbors’ lawns, a random piece of trash, another’s dog’s butt, or a dried-up pile of poop.  My walks are mostly for Millie, but they are also a bit for me…specifically for my oversized booty!

Walking my Butt

I’m walking my butt,
Walking my butt,
Walking my big fat butt.

Birds gossip and squeak;owl
Squirrels scamper and peek.
Is nature judging me?
Do they even see
My big fat butt?

No, no, no, no way.
‘Cause my dog just sniffs and squats.
Another short squirt on another lil sprout.
She stops, she pulls, she pauses
To give my butt a kind of rest.

millie and me
So nature really doesn’t care
about my feet, my butt, my hair.
It’s my own so critical eye
that makes me wanna cry, so…

I’m walking my butt,
Walking my butt,
Walking my big fat butt.