Walking and Talking

I've discovered that even though you really shouldn't drive and talk on the phone -- did you know that driving while talking on a cell phone is supposed to be as incapacitating as driving while intoxicated? -- walking and talking on the phone is a great way to get through a bout of exercise for which you feel no motivation or desire.

So this afternoon I have talked to my two sons away at college and a friend who is going to help me figure out what colors to paint our first floor interior.

Son to the north:  Didn't have a lot to say.  He's finding his super-duper-required-for-a-physics-major math course to be more challenging than the previous two quarters of calculus.  Hey, don't look at me: I have no idea what the purpose of calculus might be (even though I aced a course in it once by memorizing the textbook of which I understood not one single word) and I never took even a high school physics course.

Son to the south:  Much more talkative.  Full of plans for a summer in Europe and actually asking intelligent and responsible questions about overseas cell phone communication.  Not that I have any answers yet, but I'm glad he's asking.  I'm a lot more frightened about an American child in Europe this summer than I was about the same situation even immediately post 9/11.

On the house:  When we moved in 20 years ago, the house had just been redecorated and I was totally blown away by all of the matching and complimentary country print wallpaper in the first floor rooms and hallway.  OK, so I had no idea that there are wallpaper books that help you match wallpaper patterns.   More importantly, after 30 years of marriage and 20 of motherhood, I am most definitely NOT a country prints woman.  I was a stark white walls woman for awhile, but only got around to painting our bedroom white.  Now I am a daring and bold colors woman. I want to run away screaming from the actual wallpaper in my house and transform it into a house that makes me think of the Maine Coast.

My preference would be for the St. Augustine or Italian coast, but our house is full of dark woodwork and the yellows, pinks, turquoises, and lime greens of the southern seaside just won't play here. So I have decided to move to the rocky northern beaches in my thematic daydream and am imagining walls in deep teals, greens, and purples, with a dash of yellowsomewhere.  However, since I have no artistic capability whatsoever (perhaps that is obvious?), I need my artist friend to come over this week-end and plan the painting project for me.

So I got my walk in and talked the whole time!

Oh, and I do have a funny story related to today's cemetery photo, about another conversation that I overheard there a few days ago.  A little boy was asking his mom about this mausoleum, which I think is beautiful, built into the hillside and highlighted with pink and green marble.  I couldn't quite catch what he asked, but his mom said, "Well, I think they're very happy in there,"

Walked: 3 miles.