October 6, 2011

Writing Art. It’s like building a wooden house. But instead of cutting the trees, you grow them and make certain they don’t die.


I want to ride my bicycle

August 6, 2011

So I was out-of-town all day, and when I returned, about 20 minutes ago, there was a ginormous package on my doorstep. Brought it inside. Opened it.

I was quite surprised by the large diameter of the rollers, they are supposed to be ‘reduced’ radius, after all.

I discovered how easy it is to roll the rollers down the hall on one end.

That was fun.

Then I put them in my yoga/ballet/treadmill/bike storage room.

Look at them. Again.

I wonder which way the bike goes?

Hmm. Definitely looks like it would feel most secure if the rear wheel were between two rollers as opposed to one.

Run back to the living room and check the directions.

Yep. That’s right.

Okay, do I need to move any rollers to accomodate the wheelbase. I set the bike on the rollers; look again.

Makes the most sense to have each hub over a roller.

I run back to the living room again. Check directions.


Yep. That’s right.

I’m wearing Chaco trail shoes. Jeans. T-shirt. My ballet bar looks like a good plan. I have SPD-SL’s, so can probably manage in Chaco’s for the moment.

I put the bike on rollers, and realize it’s a bit higher than usual. I wonder if I’m allowed to stand on the frame to mount, then try to get on the bike without standing on the frame.

Not happening.

I carefully stand on the frame, and manage to get on the saddle –death-grip on one handlebar, reasonable grip on the ballet barre.

Hmmm. Bar. Barre.

It was meant to be.

I start pedaling, and think, it’s just like riding on ice.

But I’ve never ridden on ice.

My grip’s tighten. My posture is gone.

Then I realize: it’s probably better to do more than half a revolution at a time.

I speed up to about half a revolution per 2 seconds.

Faster. Now half a rev per one second.

Then I remember to do one rotation at a time, and slowly get a little faster.

Almost feels vaguely normal.

I try to correct my posture.

But I don’t remember actually taking my eyes away from the ginormous silver rollers. Not even for a moment.

Well, I did look at my arm on the ballet barre once or twice.

May have to try again.

How about…

Right now!

Already, I like them better than the stationary bicycle trainer.

Thank goodness.


July 16, 2011

Click, klak, Cliqueity Claq

Don’t. Come. Back.

Are you a tad too old for cliques?

I think. Yes.

Pilates rear-end;)

July 6, 2011

Quote from women’s cycling discussion forum…

“having a Pilates butt is very good – more butt, more better!”

cheese ball

July 2, 2011

I am the cheese

I am the big cheese
I am the big chesse,


rolled in onions, chives, and slivered Almonds.

Soft inside and gooey.

The cheese ball


July 2, 2011

The dark and creepy, scarey place.

Skeletons abound;

the catacombs.


June 17, 2011











June 14, 2011

It started with Narnia.

A simple childrens’ story—

not so simple. No.

Narnia: a complex, woven tale expressing one man’s metaphysical beliefs.

The beginning.

The middle.

The end—

and after.

After what? You ask. After life’s finish.

After life.

The Afterlife.

A story. True. To make us feel better.

Unless rational and real truth impede.

Then nothing. Nothing remains. Death happens. And that’s it.


But it all started with Narnia.

The movie Narnia “came out” on DVD April 4th, in the two thousand and sixth year after the “common” era began.

But why remember that? Why remember that I drove from work straight to Best-Buy to buy it on DVD?

Why remember that happened two weeks after the final death throes of my marriage?

Why remember the “X” (ex-husband of course) and I saw Narnia in the Movie theater our last X-mas Day together? Daytime only, we had a fight later, and I went to a hotel.

Why remember that if I hadn’t gone to Best Buy on April fourth, 2006, I would have driven home my usual route, by leaving Parris Island and turning right instead of following a straight road that led to Best Buy.

Why remember that? Why indeed?

I left Best-Buy and drove the long way home after being turned by an horrific car accident that involved a small sedan and a city dump truck.

Why remember, that if it hadn’t been for Narnia, I would have driven past that shattered wreck exactly as it happened?

Why remember the person in that vehicle?

Anna. Anna.

She died. Two hours after our last six together.


In an office on Parris Island.

Why remember?

Because I hope she’s in Narnia.


February 14, 2011

And now back into that dark and ‘stagey’ place of in between and pain;

Watch, againanda gain





the end no think



A decidedly non-diva roadie group.

February 6, 2011

Wow! What a morning. I left my house to go on my first ride since January third (except for testing my other bike for a few lazy miles a couple of weeks ago).

We have a decided lack of ‘intermediate’ groups in my area, so I ride solo a lot, which is what I intended today. After my first hour, going pretty slow and warming up–it was 45 degrees, and for you snow-bunnies, that’s cold, I got picked up by a local group of about 10 riders. It was a great ride, I did well the first 35 miles or so, but, seriously, I had planned a short, easy conditioning ride. We went about 22 mph for most of that first part. That’s slow for them; it’s winter, after all.

Most of them had the words Lowcountry Velo on their Jerserys. Sigh. Velo =’s too fast for Sheila.

I think it would have been okay had I actually been riding lately, even just short, easy rides. For the last 15 miles, I started cramping. Even my arms and hands, and I wasn’t leaning on them hard, seized up. Okay. I tried to make the other riders drop me. I knew where I was and had ridden there many times. I’d be okay.

Nope. Not happening.

One of them pushed me for awhile, then we stopped at a gas station and I discovered what half a Coca Cola can do for you on a ride.

So that was my first bonk? I should have made sure I limited my ride time and left early. A few other people did that, but I wasn’t familiar with this group. And really, once I start it can be hard to stop. Anyway, at least they said I could ride with them again rather than get mad I feel kind of stupid though. I’m usually so careful!