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Chris left work late. This means instead of being home by 6:30 PM, he won’t be home until 7:15, or even later. Traffic gets very dodgy if he leaves at any point after 5:15 PM. I’ll think good thoughts, and hope the Traffic Gods are on his side. He should try to look for something in his car while stopped; that always turns every light green. Putting on lipgloss speeds things up too, but that won’t help him. Maybe he should start carrying Chapstick.

So we are sitting eating blueberries, and waiting. I got blueberries on sale yesterday, and if they still have them in stock, I’ll buy more. Avery is Hoovering them down as fast as she can manage. I like them a lot too, but it’s taken a long time. As a kid in Michigan, I used to pick blueberries to earn spending money. It’s fun to pick blueberries casually, like if you go as a family and pick your own. Picking them as a summer job is another thing altogether. It’s hot, and often humid. There are bugs. The bucket seems bottomless, and you earn only a small amount per bucket. The days seemed endless… tracked by buckets, not hours. Also, since I’m a  very fair-skinned girl, being out in the sun for hours on end was probably not the wisest choice. Whatever, the whole process well and truly killed my desire for blueberries for years and years. I’d eat the occasional muffin, if that was my only option, but that was as far as it went. It’s only within the last five years or so that I’ve redisovered blueberries as an enjoyable fruit option. Avery clearly never picked blueberries in a past life, because her rate of consumption is a bit scary. I sense blue poop in my future.

(Time lapse)

It’s now a little after 8, and Murphy’s Law has struck once more. Chris got home around 7:30, and by the time he’d changed, etc, it was 7:45  PM. I know… should’ve gone walking yesterday, right? Yes, I suppose so. Well, I did vacuum and mop today, which should count for something. It’s not a 3.69 mile walk, but I was sweaty when finished. Like, had to change my shirt sweaty. Is that too pathetic of an admission? Remember, we have no central air. Also, my floor was gross… truly foul. Not sure how many calories I burned – but I did sweat, so some, surely? – but I do have a genuine sense of accomplishment. I even made brunch for myself and the kids – scrambled eggs and rolls – instead of succumbing to the cereal yet again. So doubly accomplished! Oh, and Braeden spent the whole day at home! He helped me quite a bit, and I feel like I got some quality time in, finally!

So the moral of the story is, Chris’ temp job is good for our bank account, but terrible for my exercise endeavors. Also, mopping makes me sweat, blueberries are good, and I can cook when sufficiently motivated. Wahoo!

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