and that's a wrap

After passing his qualification test Saturday afternoon, Mr. B asked me if I could quit karate so he could be the first in our house to earn a 3rd degree black belt and outrank everybody in the house.  I told him I'd consider it, but I'm not getting any younger ... could we test together?  He said that would be acceptable.  You know I'm not about to get into an argument with a 2nd degree black belt.

So there's the middle kid struggling to get out of a choke hold during the self-defense portion of his test:

He had to kick, punch, strike and spin a little, too.

Mr. G (he's on the left) did really well.  His stances were much improved during his open hand forms and he has some wicked spin kicks.

Their run times were fantastic, too.  Mr. G ran his last 3 miles in 23:47 and Mr. B came in behind him with 24:14, beating their times from previous weeks.  They survived a grueling 3 hour test after their run and came out covered in sweat and smiles.  Final belt count around here:  four black, three 2nd degree, one 1st degree.  My favorite part?  We're all in the same class now.  No more after school driving!

Their grandma came to town over the weekend, so we went out for burgers after the test and the boys played video games.  I figured they'd crash when we returned home, but they didn't.  Instead, they played tag and wrestled while we visited and tried to watch some college football.  In fact, they didn't feel sore or tired at all until I asked them to pick up their wet towels...

Mr. B got the grappling hook he requested for his birthday and the boys spent some quality time trying to get up into a tree.  I should've videotaped that because it was really funny to watch.  They wear a helmet because I'm scared the hook will fall on their heads.

In other news, our book club is reading Laurent Benet's novel HHhH this month.  Does anyone know how to pronounce the title?  "Four H?"  "Haaaaaaaah?"  "Aitch Aitch Aitch Aitch?  Perhaps "Big aitch, big aitch, little aitch, big aitch?" The Bumbles are trying to figure it out and it's not out in audio book yet.  Aha!  "Aitch aitch aitch aitch."  Straight from the author's mouth.  Isn't the internet marvelous?

Spill it, reader.  What did you wrap up this weekend?

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everywhere I turn, I hear the sound of Darth Vader breathing

The team is into ninjas lately, always sneaking around and jumping out at me.  I feel a bit like Inspector Clouseau, with my own version of Cato lurking around the corner, poised to attack.  This experience is honing my ninja-like reflexes.  I'm constantly listening for strange sounds to tip me off to their location--their mouth-breathing, the creak of the stairs, the footstep.  Conversely, I'm a lousy ninja, my crackling knee joints make sneaking around impossible, so I'm on the defensive all the time.

Speaking of heavy breathing, Mr. G's hyperventilating from excitement as the first of his birthday gifts arrived in the mail.  The kid cannot stand the excitement.  The countdown to his big day continues.  We still don't know when to cram his party into the schedule between games and tournaments, so I'm hyperventilating a little, too.

Early Sunday morning I sat in the library working on Monday's Eco Women post when I heard a steady whooshing noise, like Darth Vader was right above me.  I looked out the window and behold!

I ran outside to get a closer look and heard the whooshing noise right above me--so I craned my neck back and saw another one:

Right above my head like that.

I stood around watching the excitement wearing pajama pants and bed head.  Jax joined me.

They blasted fire into the balloon while it lay on its side, eventually giving it the lift it needed.

And then that balloon floated away. 

Spill it, reader.  What's got you breathing heavy lately?

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fangirl

No, I'm not referring to this sort of fan, though I am that kind of fangirl.

Nor am I talking about this type of fan. Although you can't beat it for white noise while you're trying to sleep.


I'm referring to this fan--

In karate we're studying fans. Mine has metal blades and black silk decorated with dragons. You'd think holding a fan would make a girl look naturally graceful, but that's not the case for me. They're hard to hold, they're very LOUD when you snap them open, and people are constantly cutting themselves on the sharp edges. It's probably the most dangerous weapon we've taken up--who would've guessed, right? Apparently the fans were used by samurai and geisha--they conceal other weapons, they conceal intentions of warriors, the blades were like daggers and sometimes people stuffed needles or explosives inside the fans to release them--almost like ancient pepper spray or scattershot. Crazy. It's a very complicated weapon.

So, now I'm a fangirl. Fantastic.

Mr. O offered extra credit if we wear a kimono doing the form. Mr. D was in Japan years ago and brought one home for me--no kidding. Challenge accepted. I shall do the fan form wearing an authentic kimono. The toughest part will probably be tying the obi because it's like 8 feet long and incredibly bulky.

Spill it, reader. What challenge have you accepted lately?

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funny, funny, football

Funny story: we've been working on a bo staff module in karate. Pretty tame stuff, so I've tried to run a bit on the side just to keep fit. I ran yesterday, felt a bit breathless afterwards, but didn't use my inhaler (Yo! Mikey! A shout-out to all my asthmatic cronies!) figuring I'd get my wind back later.

asthma icon Mikey from "The Goonies"

Wouldn't you know we deviated from the regular bo staff routine and had a hard class. Many kicks, elbow strikes, leg throws and knee strikes later, I wheezed my way back home with my boys. Regrettably I'd opted to wear a "nice" bra to class, and now it was covered in sweat and stench. I spent the evening "feeling the burn" in my legs and puffing on my inhaler.

Next Funny: In the last month I've filled out the paper work to run for public office and to work as a substitute teacher. I've had to fill out FOUR TIMES the paperwork, establish my citizenship, get a background check and provide references to substitute teach. I had to provide my name and address to run for public office. People working with children are screened much more thoroughly than people wanting to run our government, which might explain why our government is filled with crooks. Maybe this isn't funny.

Football: A casual survey over breakfast showed all 5 of us will cheer for New York on Sunday. Unparalleled consensus. Heck, even last year we had a traitor in our midst. I know a fair number of my readers glaze over when I mention pigskins. For those of you who care, Green Girl Football Fun Facts:
1. I live near an NFL team--so near that when the plans fly over Lambeau, they fly over my back yard seconds later
2. I live with all men
3. Football (unlike politics) is a safe conversational piece in most circles around here--especially for men
4. Football is like chess and war, full of strategy and opportunity, brutality and power
5. I give a crap about college football
6. I care slightly more about high school football
7. I adore professional football because it's played at such a refined level--there's a reason why players do not leap from high school to the NFL.
8. It's complicated. The more you watch it, the more you realize this.
9. As you begin to understand the complexity of the game, you begin to appreciate it even more
10. I care madly and deeply about the Packers.
11. I am a selective NFL fan. I care about Detroit, Indianapolis, New York, New Orleans and Pittsburgh. Frankly, if any other teams are playing in the Super Bowl, I'd half-watch it. If Dallas or Cincinnati or St. Louis were playing, I wouldn't even turn on my TV. Swear to God.
12. The excitement of the game aside, I also enjoy the camaraderie of the fans. Any time you bring together people sharing a passion, whether it's music, literature, politics or sports, it's powerful.
13. It's the only sport I watch. I take in baseball because that's the law around my house. I think basketball is full of thugs and don't spare any time for the NBA or NCAA. I'd rather bowl or golf than watch them on TV. I really don't understand soccer. I have no interest in car or horse races. I ignore figure skating, gymnastic, swimming and skiing unless they're part of the Olympics.
14. There's something so jaw-dropping about that perfectly placed pass, that perfectly timed reception, that perfectly coordinated tackle. Sure, you'll have fumbles, penalty flags and interceptions, but when football is played flawlessly, it's artistic and moving and inspiring.
15. There's also something pretty cool about generations of fans watching their sport together.

I hope your Sunday is super, reader, however you spend it. Go Giants!

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add 2nd degree black belt to Green Girl's official title

I passed my difficult test. Friday involved a lot of getting tossed to the mat unceremoniously while reviewing self-defense. (LI has a penchant for throws.) Then I bowled a 409, not bad for starting the season. I had two crappy games and ended with a 179 which salvaged my average for the night--including a Turkey!

Saturday was blustery, and after sitting outside watching Mr. B and Mr. G play flag football (2 touchdowns for Mr. G--the first two times he had his hands on the ball!), I geared up to run my final 3 miles. You could blame the chill in the air or the wind for dragging down run times, but I feel okay about my 26:47. Not bad for a gal who was never built for speed. I'd have liked to run more in the 26:30 range, but you can't have everything.

The test was long and reasonably difficult. My basic combos were good, but the spinning/jumping ones were crap. I pounded the mitt work, felt good about my open hand forms and LI and I rocked the escrima form. In fact, we walked off the floor after finishing, causing Mr. O to laugh at our confidence that we passed it on the first try. Our bo staff form looked pretty decent, too. He limited our weapons self-defense to just the gun, which was a bummer since we had our moves all planned out for each one--and I feel best about my self-defense with a stick. I wasn't sad, though. Getting tossed on the ground again wasn't real high on my list. In general self-defense the black belt instructors could attack us any way. People always seem to prefer to do a bear hug grab on me from behind--and lift me off the ground. It may have something to do with my size (or lack of--I'm only 5'3"). Anyway, Mr. O grabbed me first and when he lifted me up, I heard everything along my spinal column crackle and pop. Later, Mr. P Sr. grabbed me with such force he nearly knocked the wind out of me. That portion of the test contributed to my overall soreness through today. The good news is I finally got my wind back and used my inhaler for the last time on Monday--I was starting to feel like Mikey in The Goonies, puffing away on it every couple hours.

We ended with the usual fitness test stuff, including a pyramid drill involving 1:15 of jumping jacks, then dips, then push ups, then mountain climbers, then sit ups, repeated again for 45 seconds each. It looks like nothing much when you type it out like this, but my shoulders were burning. At the end of the test it's tradition for parents to come out on the floor and cheer their candidates on during the pyramid drill. My friend Nicole's husband stood in for me, shouting out encouragement so I wasn't all alone in a sea of people. It was sweet--and another mom occasionally called over to me, "You can do it, Ms. W!" Mr. O presented me with my final star (you get stars to sew on your pants--the karate equivalent of merit badges in Scouts) while the parents handed stars to the kids.

I drove home tested and passed, tired and wired. Naturally, after all that excitement and exertion I slept like crap and Sunday was another Very Long Day out in the wind in the south end zone at Lambeau. What I wanted was to drink a lot of ale, take a hot shower and laze about in bed watching nothingmuch on TV. What really happened: I drank 2 pints of ale, spent quality time with Team Testosterone after returning home, stayed dressed and headed out at 8:00 Sunday night to teach some people how to manage/use a website.

So, except for the Brewers, we're all winners after the weekend in Wisconsin.

I'm going to try and score a video of that escrima form so you can check out my legendary awesomeness. Until then, stay tuned all week for Anarchy Club, A Tale of Yeti Sightings in the Back 40 and A Funny Conversation About Circumcision.

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weekend warrior

I did not beat my run time Saturday--it was hot, so darn hot. I clocked 15 seconds slower, 26:57. Oy. But I'll back the truck up. Friday night we trained and reviewed our weapons self defense. I'm ashamed to admit that when my partner slapped the rubber gun out of my hand, it actually flew up, bounced off my forehead and banged into the wall. My feeble attempts at disarming LI were laughable. I keep forgetting you grab with the same side for guns and do a wrist lock. Yikes. Our forms look okay, though and LI and I do a phenomenal escrima form. It's wrong, apparently. We forget to reset our feet between the first and second half and have ended up practicing and perfecting it all wrong. No matter, Mr. O says keep it like it is because we look great.

So, Saturday we started with the run. It was brutal in the heat--the only really hot day we've run and even with Team Testosterone cheering me on I couldn't get my wind. I thought my head would melt off and breathing was awful--no one ran well, it wasn't just me. Cut to the dojo--on Extreme Day you do all the forms, a lot of mitt/pad work and combos. Our combos looked rotten. My pants were so damp with sweat, sticking to me, that I struggled to get my legs up for kicks. I held the body shield exactly twice for LI before passing it off to someone bigger to take his kicks. Both times he kicked me I flew back a good six feet--a concussion waiting to happen. Extreme Day ends with combat sparring, which means a no-holds-barred style. It's really hard to switch off the mental rules that accompany regular sparring: control your power and only hit target areas on your opponent's body. I had a rough time remembering I could hit anywhere as strong as I wanted. I began to remember after getting punched in the head (I wear gear--don't worry!) a few times--when my neck snapped back I took courage and hit harder. I went four rounds and trust me, after about 30 seconds of full-out brawling, your arms and legs feel like Jell-o. It's hard to calm down after an experience like combat sparring. The adrenaline shakes everything from fingertips to brain cells--not unlike giving birth. Watching the sparring is entertainment in itself. I saw LI choke out his opponent in at least two of his rounds and one of the 3rd degree candidates and his opponent rammed into the heat register along the front of the room and tore it off the wall. Ouch.

I didn't get injured (yay!) and afterwards Chez Green Girl hosted a Kids Night Out for the dojo--a bonfire in my back yard. Literally a school bus pulled into our driveway at 7:15 and out poured 70 kids plus another 8 instructors for hot dogs, pudgie pies, s'mores and games in the dark. The moon was full, the weather unbelievably mild. Everyone had a good time and I went to bed extraordinarily tired but wired.

At one o'clock I woke up with such a horrible ache in my left ankle. Icing helped, but something is definitely wrong down there--Mr. D's speculating it could be somehow fractured. I'm fine when it's taped, but the minute I cut the tape off things feel pretty tender. Because I am a responsible adult I will wait until I'm officially a 2nd degree black belt and the testing is done--then I'll make a doctor's appointment to get things checked out. Might as well have them explore my elbow, too, right?

So. Sunday I staggered around, trying to keep moving so the blood would keep flowing and things wouldn't cramp up and get more sore. Then I stayed up too late watching the Packers win again.

Three more miles, one more weekend of training and testing ahead.

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progress report

It's good to take stock every now and then--just when I think I've become a total slug, accomplishing nothing but keeping up with the laundry rotation and stocking the pantry, I step back and reflect. Back in January I made this list:

To date, I've scratched off most of my goals for 2011. I exceeded 100 trees planted. We've attended 3 cultural events this year and I've got 3 months remaining to bring Team Testosterone to one more play, concert or museum. I eliminated a number of piles of junk in my house--all of the living room cupboards got cleaned out, the basement is tidy and I even tackled one of the huge piles in my bedroom. All that really remains are those darn photo albums...
I made homemade bread, edged the garden and read almost 30 books so far this year. The laundry room still needs attention--forgot I'd written that down. I didn't compete in a karate tournament. That last one was tricky--there were 3 possible tournaments this year and one took place while we were in the OBX on vacation. Another was yesterday. I really wanted to spar, but with less than 2 months remaining until I earn my 2nd degree, I figured it was stupid to risk getting hurt. Now if I do enter a tournament, it'll be as a 2nd degree, making the competition even tougher. It's disappointing to realize I won't achieve this goal, but I have to concede some of the reasons were beyond my control.

Speaking of karate stuff, my 3-mile run time Saturday was 27:35, so I shaved a little time off. I may get to the 26 minute range yet. My muscles feel like a giant bruise today, but overall the training went well this weekend. No new injuries, just the same old soreness/stiffness.

In other updates, remember I mentioned a professional request for one of my manuscripts about a month ago? I learned Friday that my book was selected for publication. Stay tuned--I'll be promoting the crap out of it over the winter.

We have an abundance of apples, so things will get saucy around here soon.

And that is all.

Spill it, reader. Have you made some noteworthy progress lately?

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pain--gain

Here's the official report from my weekend at the dojo: almost everything hurts but I'm going to survive. Here's some Karate 101 for those of you new to martial arts: Training for a black belt test is a 2-month process involving hours of pushing through all the karate you know and proving your fitness with things like a 3-mile run and pyramid drills. Last time I did this, the head instructor was dramatic, wasting a lot of time and energy trying to get us to feel the pain of earning a black belt. This time around Mr. O's in charge and he's matter of fact. No screaming, no histrionics. He expects and demands a lot, but doesn't work the kids into a frenzy of wailing. I certainly appreciate how he gets down to business.

This round the candidates include 2 brothers testing for 3rd degree; a teenaged boy, me and 2 6th grade girls testing for 2nd degree; and about 7 kids testing for 1st degree. Because I'm testing for 2nd degree, I get to skip a lot of the B.S. (boring stuff, bull sh*t, basic stances--call it what you will) and head to the other room to work over 2nd degree curriculum like weapons. My fellow candidates decided we'll focus on the bo staff complex (easy), escrimas (easy) and swords (wicked tough).

Mr. O assigned our partners--mine is the teenaged boy, LI. He's at least a head taller and considerably stronger, big into wrestling and very militant. No slacking on his watch. Last time I tested my partner dropped out after the first night so I got paired with whichever instructor happened to be free to work with me. It's much different having my very own partner this time around. LI's a lippy kid, but we'll get along fine because I dish it back to him.

I taped up my left ankle for the first time Friday night and to my astonishment, that athletic tape gave me enough support to do 10 consecutive spin kicks on both sides and attempt some jumping I'd been loath to try before Friday. I came home sore, sweaty and pleased that my injuries won't hold me back.

Saturday we started training with our 3-mile run. My goal was to come in 4th--behind the 3rd degree brothers (18 and 20 years old, both in excellent shape) and my partner. I hadn't counted on one of the other candidates beating me, but I clocked a 27:53, no shame in that since I was hoping to beat 28 minutes. Then we hit the floor and worked on pads and body shields--hand combinations (like jab-punch-hook-punch) and kicks. My ankle still held up, but I got the stuffing knocked out of me absorbing my partner's kicks and punches. He drove me back a few feet every time he pummeled the pad--and I hold 2 pads to protect myself. Our "break" involved reviewing the bo staff complex and then we returned for more drills. My hands were shaking from punching so hard and getting punched so hard. I felt pretty stiff Saturday night, but this morning I woke up really cramped up. I can't even guess how many push ups and sit ups and jumping jacks and kicks I did. Hundreds of each would be a fair estimate.

This whole training/testing business is a huge demand on my time, especially during the weekends when Team Testosterone has flag football, soccer and assorted social events on the calendar. The physical part won't kill me, but it makes little things--like bending over to tie my shoes--more challenging than normal.

One weekend down and I'm still kicking.

Spill it, reader. How did your weekend go?

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when you take a ninja to the groctry store...

It's baking weather here--a free day on Friday with naught to do but add a little PLOT to my manuscript and hang out laundry. And indulge my urge to bake cookie bars. I'll need some comfort food when I get home tonight from candidate training at the dojo. Baked goods and a glass of wine will be a nice treat. I've got tape for my ankle, pills for my elbow and butterflies in my stomach. Hopefully Mr. O sticks with a traditional easy first night and then kills us tomorrow...

Which brings me to a funny story. This week I had to spend 3 hours taking VIRTUS training so I can keep volunteering at the parochial school. The movie we watched was something else--complete with a stereotypical creepy dude in glasses and long ponytail leering at the children from behind a bush beside a playground. (What really cracked me up was how the one mom marches over and pulls her daughter away leaving all of the other children behind in the company of the suspected pedophile in the film segment titled Protecting All God's Children. Anyhoo...) It was a good thing I wasn't sitting next to my BFF or I'd have made snarky comments all the way through instead of listening respectfully like I actually did.

At the karate school much is made of "Stranger Danger." Too much. In reality, most assaults and abductions involve people we already know. Strangers account for a mere fraction of criminal activity involving children. But nevermind, the parents all feel happy when their kids learn about "Stranger Danger" at karate class.

One of the nifty things we teach the kids is to YELL things like "You're not my mom!"

Cut to the grocery store where I'm trying to wrangle Team Testosterone to submit to my will without coercing them Oreos and Mountain Dew. Sure they give me sass, but then one wise-ass in the group will yell to me, "You're not my mom!" That clever little phrase we learned at the dojo.

Poor little monkey doesn't count on his mom being smarter than average. I reply (in front of customers, cashier and bag boy), "YOU just wait until we get home and I tell YOUR FATHER what you did today." (It wasn't the first time I disowned my kids in the check-out aisle. I'm fond of telling them, "Your mother will NOT like to hear how you behaved today.")

As we're fond of saying around here, "the family that kicks together, sticks together."

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martial arts & crafts

People, you come up with awesome loathsome stuff. Seriously. The comments had me nodding until my head almost bobbled off my neck.

I took photos of Team Testosterone--something I almost never do lately. They are passing "cute" and all boyish now. Where has the time gone?

And I learned a little tai chi last night which looks so lovely and poetic. Yet when I learned what the moves would actually do in a combat situation, I was horrified at their violence. Something so beautiful and so deadly. Crazy stuff. My Velocity form is looking fierce, too, which pleases me because there's a lot of jumping around. I got a complement from a parent watching class--they wanted to know how old I was. Then they didn't believe me--that old? And you can do the form like that? Uh-huh. And I strutted out of the dojo feeling like I was all that.

Addicted to Pineterest and I keep finding charming little things I could do or make for my house. This whole painting project has me inspired to do more on that front--like painting the inside of all my boring clear glass vases. And making more pennant banners for the bathroom and upstairs. I'm going to take the empty paint cans from the painting project and convert them into flower pots. With a hot glue gun, brushes and imagination I can make my house beautiful!

Mr. D and I are going to see the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet on Saturday--very excited because I own CDs by them and have been a fan for a long time.

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in short

The political climate is positively RABID and HOSTILE in my fair state right now. Progressives are rolling in their graves as I type this. All I can say is shame on you, new governor/dictator.

The Hunger Games--wonderfully plotted, but frankly I am not chomping at the bit to grab the next installation. I will, but other books call to me first. The premise of the 13 districts intrigued me, though. I forgot how great science fiction CAN be.

In a fog here--cannot see past a quarter mile.

Mr. T's face when I told him about the EEG report was the biggest grin you could ever imagine. I love love love that he's not on pills. I was telling someone jubilantly about our success the other night and learned of a family we know whose daughter was recently diagnosed with the same seizure disorder. I'm definitely giving them a call to lend them support.

Whilst sparring last night I took a THUMB to my RIGHT EYE when my partner punched me in the face. Ew. I told him I hoped his hands were fairly clean. A few moments later I kicked him in the head. Not hard--but we were both a little shocked that this old gray mare could still get her leg up that high to pull off such a move.

Editing my latest project. Sometimes it's really hard to see your work for what it is. It's always easier for me to edit for other people.

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an old promise finally kept

Over a year ago: Green Girl starts talking smack about earning a black belt, being a great woman warrior, blah blah blah.

About a year ago: Green Girl starts talking smack about black belt karate classes, how she gets to play with weapons like swords and isn't she uber-cool now?

About a year ago: Green Girl makes a big promise to her readers that she'll make a video of herself doing karate.

Which brings us to yesterday...

8:00 a.m. wave last of Team Testosterone out of the house for the day, turn on computer and start cleaning bathroom.

8:10 a.m. decide while scrubbing the tub that today would be a great day to figure out how to use the video camera and download videos to the computer.

8:11 a.m. decide if she's going to download videos to the computer, the Internet is just a short jump away.

8:13 a.m. quit cleaning bathroom, strip off gloves, find video camera.

8:16 a.m. plug in video camera, instruction manual and necessary cords. Attach video camera to computer. Success!

8:17 a.m. attempt to download videos from the last 3 years to computer.

8: 38 a.m. discover this will take a while. Read blogs, troll websites, skim newspaper while hard drive is running.

9:49 a.m. discover that she's spent an hour downloading nothing. At all. Open instruction manual.

10:00 a.m. attempt variations on pressing "direct back up" and "auto/manual" buttons while opening various computer files to read the videos.

10:35 a.m. reread instruction manual. Discover CD with software to upload videos from the camera onto the computer. Begin installing software.

10:45 a.m. finish cleaning bathroom.

10:55 a.m. watch videos of Christmas 2007, Mr. T's karate graduation, her armpit filmed during the trip to Disney World, kids' attempts at movie making involving light sabers and Mr. G's last birthday.

11:10 a.m. leave computer and camera running and head out to retrieve Team Testosterone for 6-month dental checkup across town.

1:00 p.m. boys back at school, cavity-free, flourinated and fed. Discover all family videos from the past 3 years are now on computer.

1:01 p.m. indulge in self-congratulatory fist pumping and audible whooping.

1:05 p.m. change into yoga pants and grab kamas.

1:06 p.m. why kamas? Green Girl is studying them right now, they're a 2-handed weapon used in Japan for farming. Lightweight with a curved metal blade, they are easier to manage than the unpredictable nunchucks. And her sword form is rusty and she cannot remember more than the first half of her bo staff form, even though the bo staff is her favorite weapon. So kamas it is.

1:09 p.m. after much trial and error to set up camera to tape herself, Green Girl find the perfect angle to capture most of the living room floor is on a stack of books on a table. And she can still plug in the camera without requiring an extension cord.

1:10 p.m. execute kama form. replay video.

1:15 p.m. cringe. need to begin form further back. ended much too close to the camera and can only see torso.

1:16 p.m. execute kama form again. Nearly fall over during kick sequence.

1:20 p.m. execute kama form again. Success!

1:21 p.m. watch video. Notices how loud her knees crack during kick sequence. Video quality is very shadowy because of sunlight coming through windows behind her, but Green Girl is sick of entire business.

1:30 p.m. successfully load video to computer.

1:35 p.m. attempt to load video to blog.

1:36 p.m. whoops. need to copy video to another file first.

1:47 p.m. master copying video to file.

1:53 p.m. attempt to edit video using new software. Would be so cool to add a music soundtrack.

2:25 p.m. abandon all hope of learning how to edit video. Attempt to add video to blog.

2:35 p.m. loading.

2:50 p.m. still loading. go pick up children from school.

3:20 p.m. still loading.

4:00 p.m. computer says complete. try to watch. screen reads "error in loading, try again later."

4:01 p.m. viciously curse the internet.

4:03 p.m. try again.

4:15 p.m. loading. take Mr. G to karate class.

5:30 p.m. return home and make dinner. computer says complete. try to watch. screen reads "error in loading, try again later."

5:55 p.m. sit down with Team Testosterone and eat dinner.

6:30 p.m. take Mr. T to karate class. work on kama form. get complemented by Mr. O on kick sequence. Booya.

7:45 p.m. return home. hang out with kids. start putting everybody to bed.

8:30 p.m. decide to set up YouTube account.

8:45 p.m. load video to YouTube account.

9:15 p.m. video loaded. Success! pump fists and hit "play."

9:16 p.m. watch self perform kama form on YouTube. feel mildly famous even though only person aware of this video.

9:19 p.m. watch a few other videos while loading kama form to blog.

9:27 p.m. DONE!

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earth day fun

Apparently asthma combined with pneumonia can get a little Complicated. An x-ray, oxygen test and puff test in the doctor's office yesterday resulted in all new drug prescriptions. The potential side effects from the combination is staggering. I chucked one of the new antibiotic pills down the hatch while driving Mr. T to his module test. When we arrived at the karate school I read through the drug sheet. "You might have to drive us home," I told him.

Mr. T (with a huge grin on his face) "Why?"

Me (sounding like Malcolm's wheelchair-bound asthmatic buddy Stevie on Malcolm in the Middle): "According to this. (breath) I'm not supposed to drive. (breath) Or operate heavy machinery. (breath) Until I know. (breath) How the drug reacts. (breath) In my system. (breath) And I already took one."

The possibility of getting to drive the Momvan took the edge off his nerves and he passed the sword test. His joy at passing the sword test took the edge off of his disappointment that I felt well enough to drive us home. Win-win, really.

I, on the other hand. (breath) Still have to take. (breath) The sword test. (breath) After I win. (breath) The battle with my. (breath) Fluid-filled lungs.

Now, dear reader, click here and leave a comment so you have a chance to win this canvas shopping tote from the Eco Women:

Wouldn't it be awesome to carry this bag emblazoned with all of your favorite Eco Warriors? Recycla, Captain Compost, The Green Mommy, and of course, Enviro Girl can help you carry groceries, library books, all the various items from a Target run--the possibilities are endless!

Happy Earth Day! Spill it, what environmentally friendly thing will you do for our planet today? This week? Forever?

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no fooling

* I got paid for this poem posted here at Strong Verse. Guess that makes me a poet.

* I ran some errands this morning with Mr. G who sat in the back seat saying things like, "Mom! You have a building on your head! April Fool's Day!" and "Mom! You have a bug on your head! April Fool's Day!"

* Mr. D and I have embarked on a Major Home Improvement Project. Stay tuned.

* We're wearing shorts today! Shorts!

* Staying in the running for Mom of the Year, I just found out 2 days ago that my children have a longer spring break than I'd originally thought. Hm. Guess we'll have to change our plans a little.

* I learned all of the sword form last night. I tell you, I may look fierce after I practice all weekend.

* Mr. D's baseball team has their first game tonight.

* Now I'm off to take the storm doors down and put in the screens. I don't care if Mother Nature is fooling with us, we left windows open last night and by golly, I'm sweating a little right now! Who's ready for that sweet slap of a screen door and a tall glass of iced tea?

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grand gestures

Last night I started learning the sword form in karate. Swords are glamorous weapons. Seriously. They reek of danger and thrilling adventure. Swords are also heavy and awkward to learn. But once you get the moves right, everyone, from ninjas to pirates to knights to vampires look wicked cool wielding them. The very first movement in our sword form is to unsheath your weapon from your side and raise it high above your head. Talk about a grand gesture!

and from that point on

it's all about thrusting and stabbing

spinning and slicing

jabbing and chopping

and cutting your opponent in half.

In a few hours I'm off to the Twin Cities with Team Testosterone to visit my sister, which is something I haven't done in a loooooong time. Our relationship has been fraught with complications since childhood, but she's in a good place now and going to see her is probably the best gift I can give her. This weekend together is all about her, the boys will smother her with affection, well as much as boys their age are wont to do, and we can bond over something other than a cell phone. Her new apartment has an indoor pool, a major perk for my gang. The Momvan is packed with sleeping bags, books on tape, markers, paper, overnight gear and snacks & gifts--including cheese curds made fresh this morning at the cheese factory up the road. The forecast is balmy, adding to our excitement.

My plans also include meeting up with a bloggy pal--I'm SO anxious because I've never done this before. It's like meeting a penpal! We agreed on the time and location this morning. I think I might wear my green sneakers so she recognizes me right off the bat. They are my avatar, after all. I know this will be an amazing experience--I can't wait to share it with you on Monday!

I'm picking a lucky winner for Saucy's Grand Gesture and ipod earrings on Sunday night, so don't forget to leave your comments. Spill it, reader, what grand gesture have you got planned for a loved one?

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how my life has changed since becoming a black belt

For starters, I'm getting comments typed in Chinese on my blog. I'm deleting them because for all I know they're ads for penile implants, which is something I don't need. But now that I'm a black belt, people probably ascribe all kinds of Knowledge of Things Eastern to me. Like how to make kung pao beef and organize rooms to maximize the flow of energy, chi and zen. But I don't understand Chinese, written or spoken, and I imagine my Chinese fans will soon abandon their efforts to reach out to me via the comment box. I do speak some French, Spanish and Pig Latin, though. O-say eave-lay our-yay omments-cay at-thay ay-way if-ay ou-yay ike-lay.

I haven't had to register my hands as lethal weapons, although I did call my state representative to ask about this. He assured me that even though I am a black belt, I can go about my usual business. I don't even need a special sticker on my drivers license.

In "Black Belt Class" (heretofore referred to as BBC, not to be confused with the storied news service sponsored by our friends across the pond) we work with all kinds of weapons, so I'm now the proud owner of a bo staff (silver--graphite--v. light and durable). We've just begun the bo staff unit in BBC. I've had lots of complements on my staff (a Christmas gift to myself) but not too many on my handling of it...yet. I love the bo staff compared to nunchuckas, though. Less wobbly, easier to control, and seems like a preferable weapon in a fight if you ask me. The length of it means you can keep your enemy further away and if all else failed, you could use it to poke their eye out. Plus, I twirled baton when I was young and a lot of the bo staff moves are exactly the same. (No, I do NOT like bo staff best just because Taylor Lautner studied it.)

Studying bo staff means learning a form to demonstrate knowledge of all the strikes and defenses and learning two coordinating forms--attacking and defending. The latter is tricky because you learn both but do one part while your partner does the other. Last night I was defending while my partner was attacking, but I kept wanting to do what she was doing. This doesn't work so well because every move I make is a counter move to what she does. I like the mental challenge of this and I'm optimistic that I'll master bo staff soon. Then I get to move on to sword, kamas and escrima sticks (which should be a breeze since I've watched Mr. T go over the escrima form a thousand times and can recite it in my sleep). From the little I know about these other weapons, I think I'll still like the bo staff best.

The awesomeness factor of owning new weapons aside, we study grappling in BBC. This is absolutely awful. I always end up pinned and I'm terribly self-conscious grappling teenaged boys, teenaged girls, the other women my age, and my instructors. I only know a couple of submission holds and can barely maneuver my way out of gar position. Grappling is sweaty and involves way too much contact for my taste. It's humbling to be so bad at something. My sole victory came Monday night during combat sparring. During combat sparring you try to take your opponent down to the ground--sparring and grappling combined. I actually pinned an instructor (and it wasn't a "pity pin" either). It happened in part because I was 100% focused on grappling, not on anything else. It didn't matter that his feet were in my face or that I had to lay across his chest or that I smelled like Old Locker Room Sweat. All that mattered was NOT getting pinned and I had the first taste of success in this area of study. Even so, I'd rather spar than grapple any day.

Another requirement of working on 2nd degree is mastering a form called "Velocity." As indicated by it's name, the form moves fast, with a lot of jumps. In my opinion it is wrong to ask anyone over 26 to perform this form. Mr. O just laughed when I shared my opinion. I've learned the form and don't look like a total sclub doing it. Nor do I look amazing.

BBC is demanding, physically and mentally, and aside from getting tossed on my back once or twice a week during grappling lessons, it's fun.

As I'm working on a query letter to accompany my (nearly finished!) manuscript Kicks Like a Girl, I can write "I'm a black belt in karate" which makes me sound cooler than I actually am in real life.

And I'm still getting my 3 miles in, but I'm skiing them sometimes because running indoors is NOT the same as running outside and xc-skiing is better exercise. I have to mainain my black belt physique--people expect you to look pretty fit when you claim to have a black belt in anything.

This pretty cool XMA bo staff demonstration gives you an idea of why this weapon cooler than swords or nunchuckas or escrima sticks:

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guilty feet

I haven't sparred since the end of July, making Saturday's Black Belt Test #1 with the combat sparring VERY SCARY. So when I arrived at class last night and learned we were sparring, I felt a little relieved to get the review. Sparring in class is "Point Sparring" which means you only get credit for contact with your opponent's head or stomach area. Because it's "Point Sparring," you only use enough force to get the point--sometimes that amounts to a mere tap, other times a WHALLOP!

I also dial it down or up depending on my opponent. We had one beginner in class last night, she's only using her hands because she's totally overwhelmed by the entire thing so when facing her I moved at a very slow speed, nothing fancy, allowed her a couple points to build her confidence. Another woman in class is very quick and athletic--with her I have to force through to get points. We hit each other harder and it's an exhausting and very physical round.

Then I faced Mr. K, one of the assistant instructors. He's wicked fast and does lots of fancy spinny-turny-twisty kicks (yep, that's official martial arts terminology for those of you new to karate). I'm not good enough to beat him in a match, but I am good enough to defend, evade, keep his score down and get a few points to my credit. But Mr. K doesn't wear full gear and as a result we always end up hurting each other. His heel in my chest cavity. My bony shin against his bony kneecap. This unintentional (and often bruise-inducing) contact is a result of speed--Physics 101.

I hate sparring instructors who aren't wearing full gear, but I've had to learn to get over it or I get my a@@ handed to me. So last night we were at it full throttle when in a final move as the other instructor yelled "TIME!" we both sent up kicks--a classic "Clash of the Titians" move--except his kick went higher and mine landed in his--erhm--tenders.

Mr. K fell to his knees, eyes watering, voice a tad higher. Oh boy, did I feel awful. I mean, he should have been wearing a cup, but still...

The night progressed and then it was time for the final round of the class. I looked for a new sparring partner. All that remained was Mr. K, now recovered from his earlier injury. "Salute. Touch Gloves. Defensive Stance." Final round before Saturday, when I know I'll face off against Mr. K in combat style. Huge breath and Go!

I scored two points. He scored fifteen or so (I lost count). Then, as the other instructor yelled "TIME!" Mr. K came at me with one of his spinny-twisty-turny kicks and in one of my new defenses against that move, I ducked and turned around because contact with my butt doesn't count (and doesn't hurt so much). Success! I ducked low enough and fast enough that his leg missed me completely. I stepped forward, momentarily elated that I had evaded his kick. And then I watched as the momentum from his kick kept him spinning full circle--then over--then onto his foot which then rolled and turned in a horrible way. Mr. K never got up again.

I feel terrible. For a half hour I watched him writhe in pain on the floor, face pale, shaking, toes turning purple. We applied an ice pack, elevated his foot and called his dad. I watched him ride away towards the hospital where they probably told him his ankle or foot is broken. There are 28 bones in his foot--how many are involved? How long will it take him to recover? How will this affect his classes (he's a college student) or his income? Does he have insurance to cover the ER visit and treatment?

The only thing that makes me feel an eensy bit better is that I didn't cause his injury through direct contact--that would make me completely guilty. Landing on his foot and rolling it was a fluke--a horrible mistake. But a dreadful knot remains in my gut even this morning.

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