Posted in Friendship

What’s in a Name?

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Some people just ooze sweetness.  When they talk to you their sentences always begin with “honey”, might end with “sweetie”, and usually have a nickname for everyone else.  I wouldn’t say I fall into that category, but I’m somewhere between semi-sweet and a might sugary.

For instance, my husband and I call each other “Boo”.  He’s my “Boo” and I am his!  With Grandchildren it started out with “Love Bug” and sometimes “Honey Bun”, “Butter Cup”, and anything else that pops into my mind.  I fondly remember my Grandma calling me “Darling”.  When I consulted Webster, I found that darling means: dear, dearest, love, sweetheart and beloved.  Darling is pretty all encompassing.  It’s sort of an old-fashioned term of endearment, one which still makes me feel warm and special.

Truthfully, it probably doesn’t matter which affectionate name you use.  All that really counts is the way you say it; your tone and inflection, and most importantly, the crinkle in your eyes as your heart smiles at the object of your love.

Take note of your name for the one you love; whether it’s “honey”, “lovey”, or “baby cakes”.    What’s in a name?

“That which we call a rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet.”

Shakespeare

Posted in Flower meanings, Flowers, Friendship

La Langue des Fleurs

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There is a delightful, yet, thought provoking book called, “The Language of Flowers”, by Vanessa Diffenbaugh.  It is beautifully written and paints a vivid description of a memorable woman who uses her gift for flowers to help change the lives of the people she meets.  While doing so, she must learn to heal from her past and lean into her future.

Have you ever thought about the types of flowers you are drawn to and what they say about your character or personality?  I think we all tend to choose our favorite flowers.  Does your spouse always bring you yellow roses?  Are geraniums your go-to garden plant?  For me and my garden, it is azalea’s, hot pink geraniums, Calla lilies, marigolds, zinnias, and mums.  

Just as there are birth month gems, there are birth month flowers.  My birthday is in May, so of course, I have the emerald; but also the Lily of the Valley.  Lily of the Valley means humility, chastity, and sweetness.  My, what a lot to live up to.

Think of all the ways flowers touch our lives.  The bouquet brought to you in the hospital; the unexpected single rose from the one you love; the spray laid upon a casket as a sign of respect and honor.  The type of flowers we choose for each person or occasion speaks volumes about the type of person who chose them.  Dainty and pale, bold and large, even all one color says to the world, “ I am here.  These flowers are part of me and me of them.  Drink in the fragrance and feel my thoughts of you.”

My little granddaughter delights in walking the neighborhood, admiring the flowers and doodle bugs.  She loves anything pink or purple and flowers are no exception.  She will sometimes pluck a flower from its stem and smile as she hands it to me, “Here, Nannie… I got you a flower!”  Time stands still and beauty knows no age limit, as we drink in the flower’s fragrance, gaze at its magnificence and feel the draw toward its delicate attraction.

If I could send you a little bouquet today, it would include pink carnations (I’ll never forget you), gardenias (You’re lovely), irises (Your friendship means so much to me), blue violets (faithfulness) and maybe an orchid (love, beauty, refinement).  Flowers may not be a replacement for telling someone how you really feel about them. Giving a bouquet of flowers is no excuse to not say “I love you.”  But, with the language of flowers you can say less and mean more, and as Lydia M. Child once said,  

“Flowers have spoken to me more than I can tell in written words. They are the hieroglyphics of angels, loved by all men for the beauty of their character.”     

 

Posted in Introspection, owl omens, Owls, Sittin Ugly

And Then There Were Three

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I’ve always been an early riser; I simply must.  It is my time to “sit ugly” and spiritually and mentally prepare for the day.  As I sip coffee, I often stare out the window, enjoying the rising of the sun and watching the birds fly in for a snack.

In our backyard is a bird bath that serves as a way-station for the many birdies that frequent our neighborhood.  They nibble at our bird feeder, get a little drink and take a little bath…then fly off again to decorate the trees and sky with their beautiful colors.  Our bird feeder is guaranteed to be squirrel proof, but still…you know how crafty those squirrels can be.

A few weeks ago I glanced out the back door, checking on my plants, the bird feeder (aka squirrel feeder) and saw two small owls sitting in the bird bath!  They were sitting side by side, turning their heads, acknowledging the blue jays and pigeons who wanted their turn to bathe.  The owls would drink, splash and then sit perfectly still while their heads turned side to side.  I ran to get my camera and tried taking pictures through the glass, but that didn’t work.  So, I gently opened the back door and snapped away.  I thought this was just a fluke, but so far, every day at 6:30 a.m. my owl friends drop by for a bite, a bath, or a drink.  Maybe owls like to ‘sit ugly’, too.

After the first few times I saw them, I thought perhaps it was an omen.  Maybe it was a sign I should pay attention to, so I googled “owl visits” and “what does it mean if you see an owl?”  Lots of things popped up, as you might imagine.  Much of it was about finding your Spirit Animal and Native American folklore.  Was an owl on my totem pole?  I really didn’t know.

However, as I read, it boiled down to two main messages:  consistently seeing owls was either a sign of really good luck, wisdom and magic OR a really bad sign, like imminent death!  YIKES!

After reading for awhile, I came to my own conclusion.  Perhaps our backyard was famous in Audubon circles, and these owls wanted to check us out.  Maybe God simply wanted to bless me, a faithful early riser, with a beautiful surprise.  What if the message was, “take time to be present, notice the glorious world in your own backyard”?  

 

A few days ago, I stood waiting at the backdoor, taking my first sip of coffee and wondering if my friends were on their way, when all of a sudden...there were three.  One little owl would bathe then fly up into the tree and the other two would come down to splash.  They all three took turns and rotated branches and birdbath; then they flew away to do whatever they do during the day.  Perhaps sleep.
I’ve haven’t seen the 3rd owl since that day.  Some mornings only one will show up and some days two.  I suppose one day, my owl friends will move on and find another a.m. stop-over.  Meanwhile, I’ll continue my morning ritual and maybe keep the camera nearby just in case my owls fly in…..that sounds like a wise thing to do, don’t you think?

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Posted in Children, Pets

Muffy

 

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Muffy:      When my youngest daughter was twelve, we went to the pound to find a puppy.  A man met us as we came in and offered to show us around and tell us about the available pups.  We hardly noticed the tiny ball of fur tucked in the crook of his arm.

As we walked from cage to cage, we mentally scored each dog…too big, too small, too old, not cute, too much hair etc.  After seeing each dog probably more than twice, I told my youngest, that perhaps today was not the day for a new puppy.  The man casually said, “Well, of course, there is this little guy, “ as he held up the black and white fur ball in his arms.  “His family moved away and left him.  He does have a little issue with his right paw, but…..”, and he handed him to my daughter.  I won’t say it was love at first sight, but close!  She looked at me, I looked at the puppy, we both looked at the man and said, “We love him!  We want him!”

Before we took him home, the worker explained, “You see here?  This little guy has an extra paw on his right foot.  He might have been hurt or maybe born that way, but he should be just fine.”  I think he was named before we left the parking lot…’Muffo’ was ours!  All ours!

I won’t say Muffo was perfect in every other way, but almost.  Moving into an all-female household, his name quickly morphed into “Muffy”.  I don’t know why, but it did.  Some of our family and friends refused to call him Muffy, so he had other nicknames like Murphy or Mufster.  But, Muffy was a ‘metro-sexual’ male and didn’t mind the girly name!  He was secure in who he was.

 

Muffy was loyal, sweet, good natured and calm.  We babied him and loved him for 13 years.  He was an endless source of laughter, stories, and entertainment.  Sadly, as time went on, not only was his extra appendage more prominent, he developed cataracts and became blind.  He adjusted very well to his loss of sight, but there was this once…….

I had finally been able to afford new den furniture and so we gave away the old and had a two-day window until the new couch arrived.  On this day, I opened the back door to let Muffy in and as was his practice, he jogged to the den to leap up on the couch for a nap.  It was slow motion…..as I shut the door, turned and saw Muffy in mid air….aiming for his usual spot on the couch, which was NOT there.  Thud!  I always did feel terrible about that, but how could I have explained, what he could not see?

When Muffy knew you were eating something delicious and he was not, he would sit up, balanced on his hind legs, and hold his wounded, extra paw with his good front paw, and quietly beg.  He was never pushy or loud, but he always got our sympathy with his pitiful little beg and two paw wave.

Muffy was with us through thick and thin; holidays; vacations; moving cross country; and empty nesting.  I never felt lonely as long as he was around.

Muffy was the OG of K-town and the NKOTB in Austin….he was the epitome of a perfect pet.  Charming, cute beyond words, sensitive because of his handicaps, loyal and an excellent judge of character.  In fact, 15 years ago, Muffy convinced me that my then boyfriend would make a great husband…and he was right.  Muffy knew a good person when he met one.

Our Muffy was agreeable but not a pushover; caring but not overbearing.  He was precious and we loved him.  In fact, everyone who knew Muffy, loved him.  Afterall, wouldn’t we all love to be admired like that?  He had it all and more!  There will never be another Muffy!

We love you Muffy and miss you terribly!  RIP little guy!

 

Posted in Children, Introspection, jobs, School, Teaching

What Teaching Kindergarten Taught Me

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What Teaching Kindergarten Taught Me:

My teaching career spanned seventeen years.  Ten years teaching high school and seven years teaching kindergarten.  The chasm is not as deep or wide between the two as you might think because a 5-year-old and a 15-year-old have similar behaviors and thought processes.

Some of my most fun and also frightening teaching memories came from my precious kinder kiddos.  The first year I made the switch from high school to kindergarten, I was constantly wondering why.  Why do these kids not stay seated when I ask them to?  Why can’t they line up in a straight line?  The answer was easy….those were two skills I needed to teach them.  Who knew?  As I quickly learned, the first month of kindergarten is solely dedicated to learning processes, systems, and procedures.  How to line up, how to make it to the bathroom on time, and how to work together safely and without a meltdown.

Boogers:     Sniffles, picking and blowing are all things done with the nose or let’s just call it like it is…boogers.  Problems occur when you are not prepared for Booger mania!  For example,  the sneeze felt round the room; or when known nose picker runs up and hugs your legs passing who knows what onto your skirt; or how about when above said nose picker is chosen line leader for the day and gets to hold the teacher’s hand?  I’ve been known to hold the wrist instead, feigning a sore finger.  One must always be vigilant to pickers and be prepared for the unplanned grasp of the hand.  Although it’s not PC, it would be so cool if you could wear disposable gloves while teaching.  Is there any wonder why Kleenex is number one on the school supply list?
Potty talk, potty time and potty problems:    For some reason, pee, poop, and fart are the 3 funniest words any five year old knows.  Just say the word ‘fart’ and you will cause a group of kindergarteners to collapse into giggles, jokes or stories.  For example:  Once during an appraisal by my principal, a whole classroom dissolved with one fart.

On this day at story time, I had my 25 five-year-olds sitting perfectly still on the carpet in front of me.  We were reading a story which I was incorporating into a fabulous English Language Arts lesson on Sequencing:  What comes next in the story.  I was sitting smugly in my chair, 25 sets of eyes were all on me, my Principal was sitting at the back of the room taking notes when all of a sudden, in the quiet pause of the story….a precious little girl farted.  I tried to bite my lip, keep on reading and act like nothing happened, but one moment later a little one from the back of the group asked, “Did you hear that air biscuit?  One after another the group popped up with other statements:  “I did!”  “Who did it?”  “What’s an air biscuit?”  “That wasn’t a biscuit, it was a fart and it smells!”

Picture me calmly (I was really starting to sweat) asking the class to put all eyes back on me and putting my finger to my lips, tried the silent shhhhhh.

Chaos ensued when another child pointed out the culprit…I didn’t want to, but I glanced at the back of the room and saw my principal hysterically laughing and trying to hide his face while his shoulders were uncontrollably shaking.  He politely excused himself and said, “Perhaps I can come back later.”

I never really got it back together after that, so we went outside to run and play and return after a bathroom break, and try it again.  Sequencing lesson:  What happens after a child has a loud air biscuit?  Mayhem.

On most days, my classroom was calm and uneventful.  You know, those days when you wish Norman Rockwell was capturing the essence of your teaching career?  Those seven years in kindergarten were sweet, funny and oh so endearing.  I learned a lot about life.  I learned boogers and farts are funny at any age.  I learned to be more inquisitive, laugh more, see the joy in everyday events and love with all my heart!

Hey, sometimes “poop” happens… but it’s how you deal with it that matters.

 

 

Posted in Children, Motherless daughters, Mothers, Parents

The Dichotomy of Motherhood

Happy Mother's Day

 

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”―     Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

For some reason, this quote from Charles Dickens reminds me of motherhood, at least my pilgrimage to and through motherhood.   Being a mother is the most fulfilling, heartwarming, satisfying, inspiring, God-given gift in the world. Sometimes though, it can break your heart.  Being a mother means you are vulnerable and open and approachable, which in turn means that you can be hurt. Only a mother could cry through a long night only to see the dawn with a joyful, hopeful expectation, ready to love again.

Mothers have their own special cheering section in Heaven.  Mothers know things dads will never know.  Mothers are capable of experiencing the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.  A mother is eternal.

Please accept these thoughts on motherhood; these words of description; these parallels of dichotomy; this attempt at explanation of the wonders of motherhood.

Watching….Waiting

Smiling….Crying

Heartwarming….Heartbreaking

Fun-filled….Fearful

Laughing….Leaping

Holding….Hating

Bearing….Bothering

Loving….Languishing

Exhilarated….Exhausted

Wonder….Wander

Capturing….Catapulting

Peaceful….Perplexing

Enveloping….Enabling

Helping….Hindering

Love…….Plain and simple

 

Happy Mother’s Day everyone, no matter what path led you to motherhood.  

Happy Mother’s Day to everyone who has loved a child with all of your heart.

Happy Mother’s Day to those who have loved and lost and those who lost their mother along the way.  We are all the same….we who love…we understand each other…

Our blood flows coarsely through our veins and our hearts beat as one.

Happy Mother’s Day!

 

Posted in Changes, Introspection, Work ethic

Beginnings and Endings

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Beginnings and Endings:

Where you begin is not always where you end.  I had a job on weekends and in the summer from the time I turned sixteen until I landed my first teaching gig.

One of my first high school jobs was at Meyers Family Fried Chicken in Amarillo, Texas.  I was the hostess with the mostess on weekends!  “How many?”  “High chair or booster?”  “Booth or table?”  “  Follow me please.”

Meyers Family Fried Chicken was, as you guessed, geared toward family.  It had a train track mounted at the top of the walls by the ceiling and a locomotive with a long train that ran continuously everyday, from open to close.  

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My time there was pretty non-descript, except when a customer would request a certain waitress or to sit by the window.  When that happened, it would cause tip inequality and sometimes overwork or not enough work for the waitresses.   This, in turn, would cause huffing and puffing and sideways glances at the Hostess.   Although the policy was to make the customer happy, I was less popular than usual when a demanding patron put us out of rotation.  I think Meyers and I parted ways after one year.

My most favorite job in high school was at Montgomery Ward in the Western Plaza.  I breezed through training with flying colors and high scores because I could run the register and count back change with speed and accuracy.  All this awarded me the prestigious title of “Floater,” meaning every time I clocked into work, I had to stop by HR to see what department needed help.

I managed to land a coveted temporary position in the Electronics Department when a full-time/part-time person went on maternity leave.  The Electronics Dept. sold T.V.’s, record players, radios and records.  You know, LP’s and 45’s.  I was in heaven, mainly because cute boys would occasionally wander in looking at records and I could approach with a big smile and ask, “May I help you?”SCAN0006 (2)

 

My other department stents were not as glamorous nor as successful.  Once, while helping out in shoes, I sent customers home with two different shoes in the same box.  (not a matched pair)  And there was one fateful Saturday in the Candy Dept….I’m not sure why, but I never got the hang of scooping, measuring correctly, and bagging.  On Saturday’s it would be flush with harried parents, crying kids, and ‘hangry’ (hungry and angry) customers.  I never “floated” back after that one time.

My employment background boasts of teaching swimming lessons and lifeguarding at the YMCA;  one summer at Glorieta Baptist Church Camp, working in the Chuck Wagon, making donuts; and two summers in college, as a secretary at an insurance company.

Isn’t it fascinating to look back and see that where you began is not always where you end?  How was I to know at sixteen that the skills and customer interactions then would serve me well later as an educator?  How could I possibly have known that weekends and summers wouldn’t hold a candle to Monday through Friday for 36 years?

Certainly, where I began was not where I ended.  But, it shaped me and molded me and taught me about life and the virtues of an honest day’s work.  So, to that I must say:  “Thank you, Meyer’s Family Fried Chicken!”,  “Gracias! Montgomery Ward!”, and “Much obliged! Chuck Wagon!”

You taught me well!

Posted in Introspection, Photography

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

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There’s something about taking pictures.  It connects you with the human race…  It gives you a mind’s eye view of the world… Shows the window to the soul…Tells a story…Frees the imagination…Captures the truth.

It is a universal language.  Everyone loves to see themselves in photographs and to see photos of people and things that they love.  When I am behind my camera, I see the greater good, the brightest color, the person behind the eyes, and the wonder of all God’s creatures.  There is nothing that rivals that feeling.

Wherever I go, when I take my camera, I am transported to another dimension!  Strangers are drawn to me and want me to take their picture, or ask me to use their camera to take their picture.  Once on a trip to Mardi Gras’, I began taking pictures during a street dance.  Soon, couples I didn’t know and would never see again,  danced by and posed, wanting me to capture their revelry.  I must have taken 300 pictures in a two-hour span.   Photography breaks down barriers and builds relationships.

When I was 10 years old, my dad let me take a camera to Girl Scout camp.  It was a Brownie.  Brownie Cameras were boxed shaped and you looked down through the top to find your subject.  The film had to be threaded through the inside maze until it clicked into place.  I thought it was fabulous.kodak-860732__340

 Through the years I have had the Brownie, Polaroid, Instamatic, Digital and of course disposable!  After I retired, I purchased a Nikon 3100 and began my true love affair with photography.  I have, of course, chronicled our family’s growth, events, and trips,  but I have also been fortunate enough to capture some glorious sights.. and here are just a few.

197Outside of Denver at Buffalo Bill’s Grave!017Kerrville, Texas

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My beloved Maine!086Peek-a-boo Kitty

071San Antonio Zoo

029Cuerro, Texas

Sunset was taken courtesy of God and Galveston!

 

Posted in Friendship

Walk Talk

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For years now, I have gone for a walk almost every day.   I tie my tennis shoes, grab my sunglasses and head out the door.  It’s therapeutic and even spiritual in nature.  I need it and evidently so do others.  Through the years I have encountered different types of walkers and have developed certain categories, if you will.  Below are just a few of these walkers…see if you recognize anyone you know.

 

The Serious Walker:  Eyes straight ahead, purposeful arm swing, long stride…..no nonsense…’get er’ done’.   This walker may not speak even if you say good morning or hello..they are on a mission! These walkers generally have good tennis shoes and suitable attire.

 

The Dog Walker:  This type varies from the laid back walker who lets their pooch sniff and tinkle at will, to the run/walker whose dog is one with the owner!  The run/walker/and dog seem to enjoy the discipline…eyes forward..steady movement, and sporty outfits, whereas the laid back walker is sometimes on his phone, multitasking a chat and potty patrol, while frequently donning their work clothes and shoes, or worse….pajamas.  (a dead give away)  

 

The Walker Talker: These walkers don’t want to be alone!  They usually are seen in two’s and occasionally a ‘pack’ or even a ‘gaggle’.  To these social beings, the heart-to-heart chat is almost more important than the walk.  The walker talkers show commitment, enthusiasm, and encouragement.  Through the years, I have had only a few dear friends like this.  Walker talkers are a special breed indeed.  *cute outfits optional, but certainly appreciated!

 

The “I Hate to Walk But I Have To” Walker:  These poor walkers look bored, tired and MAD!  They look down or straight ahead and never acknowledge anyone else.  They avoid walker talkers at all costs and generally do not wear workout clothes.  The “I Hate to Walk” walkers most likely have a spouse or doctor who is encouraging their exercise!  They may be walking, but they certainly don’t have to like it!

 

The Stalker Talker Walker:  I have personally encountered this walker many times in my neighborhood.   This walker is (a.)  A talker and  (b.)  Wants to talk whether you do or not.  For example:  I had happened upon this walker several times and did engage in polite conversation; however, I kept moving.  Then, I noticed that he just happened to be walking at the same time I was and would even cross two streets to come over to speak.  I had to up-my-game by keeping a vigilant eye out, so that I could change directions if need be, to avoid “the chat”.  Sometimes he would be talking as he walked toward me and then say, “I’ll walk with you”.  Oh, my!  This person is a sweet, older gentleman who is uber friendly and means no harm, however, he IS a Stalker Talker Walker!  Beware!

 

The Barbie or Ken Walker (aka Sporty Spice):  These walkers have a certain MO:  great looking outfits; expensive tennies; matching visor or hat; earphones and always a Fitbit or Apple watch to check their progress and status. They usually keep a fast pace and rarely speak…they only nod.

 

The ‘Baby on Board’ Walker:  These walkers could go a number of ways:  a mom trying to do it all by pushing a stroller or double stroller and having a dog on a leash, while trying to walk or jog;  Sometimes you will see a super tired parent out early in the morning trying to take baby for a stroll just to stop the crying or get a break! They may be drinking coffee and/or checking their phones;   And of course, there are the super parents who are going for their run/walk no matter what!   These parents are usually pushing a double stroller and the kids are eating snacks or watching a movie.  The stroller I used in 1978 would never have made it!!

 

Did any of these descriptions remind you of someone or even yourself?

No matter what type walker you are or type walker you observe, we’re all just trying our best to get out there and bust a move! Don’t be intimidated, mad or too serious to stop and smell the roses….just keep walking the talk or talking the walk, whichever one you choose!

Keep movin and groovin!

 

Posted in Exercise, Friendship, Outdoors, People

Walk Talk

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For years now, I have gone for a walk almost every day.   I tie my tennis shoes, grab my sunglasses and head out the door.  It’s therapeutic and even spiritual in nature.  I need it and evidently so do others.  Through the years I have encountered different types of walkers and have developed certain categories if you will.  Below are just a few of these walkers…see if you recognize anyone you know.

The Serious Walker:  Eyes straight ahead, purposeful arm swing, long stride…..no nonsense…’get er’ done’.   This walker may not speak even if you say good morning or hello..they are on a mission! These walkers generally have good tennis shoes and suitable attire.

The Dog Walker:  This type varies from the laid back walker who lets their pooch sniff and tinkle at will, to the run/walker whose dog is one with the owner!  The run/walker/and dog seem to enjoy the discipline…eyes forward..steady movement, and sporty outfits, whereas the laid back walker is sometimes on his phone, multitasking a chat and potty patrol, while frequently donning their work clothes and shoes, or worse….pajamas.  (a dead give away)  

The Walker Talker: These walkers don’t want to be alone!  They usually are seen in two’s and occasionally a ‘pack’ or even a ‘gaggle’.  To these social beings, the heart-to-heart chat is almost more important than the walk.  The walker talkers show commitment, enthusiasm, and encouragement.  Through the years, I have had only a few dear friends like this.  Walker talkers are a special breed indeed.  *cute outfits optional, but certainly appreciated!

The “I Hate to Walk But I Have To” Walker:  These poor walkers look bored, tired and MAD!  They look down or straight ahead and never acknowledge anyone else.  They avoid walker talkers at all costs and generally do not wear workout clothes.  The “I Hate to Walk” walkers most likely have a spouse or doctor who is encouraging their exercise!  They may be walking, but they certainly don’t have to like it!

The Stalker Talker Walker:  I have personally encountered this walker many times in my neighborhood.   This walker is (a.)  A talker and  (b.)  Wants to talk whether you do or not.  For example:  I had happened upon this walker several times and did engage in polite conversation; however, I kept moving.  Then, I noticed that he just happened to be walking at the same time I was and would even cross two streets to come over to speak.  I had to up-my-game by keeping a vigilant eye out, so that I could change directions if need be, to avoid “the chat”.  Sometimes he would be talking as he walked toward me and then say, “I’ll walk with you”.  Oh, my!  This person is a sweet, older gentleman who is uber friendly and means no harm, however, he IS a Stalker Talker Walker!  Beware!

The Barbie or Ken Walker (aka Sporty Spice):  These walkers have a certain MO:  great looking outfits; expensive tennies; matching visor or hat; earphones and always a Fitbit or Apple watch to check their progress and status. They usually keep a fast pace and rarely speak…they only nod.

The ‘Baby on Board’ Walker:  These walkers could go a number of ways:  a mom trying to do it all by pushing a stroller or double stroller and having a dog on a leash, while trying to walk or jog;  Sometimes you will see a super tired parent out early in the morning trying to take baby for a stroll just to stop the crying or get a break! They may be drinking coffee and/or checking their phones;   And of course, there are the super parents who are going for their run/walk no matter what!   These parents are usually pushing a double stroller and the kids are eating snacks or watching a movie.  The stroller I used in 1978 would never have made it!!

Did any of these descriptions remind you of someone or even yourself?No matter what type walker you are or type walker you observe, we’re all just trying our best to get out there and bust a move! Don’t be intimidated, mad or too serious to stop and smell the roses….just keep walking the talk or talking the walk, whichever one you choose!

Keep movin and groovin!