From bones to bells

In one day, I experienced two firsts. I took my eldest to get her first cast on a fractured wrist due to an adventure down on the farm in Iowa. More than anything, the COLOR of the cast seemed to dominate the visit. Growth plates, be damned! What color will this cast be? Try as I might, I couldn't get the doc to crack a smile (no, it wasn't her dad) and I aborted the mission after my third attempt. I did see the student suppress a grin as though he wasn't sure he should or not. The child was nonplussed and thoroughly elated with her electric pink accessory and is desperately seeking Sharpies.

I ended my day with a 12 minues Fat Blast using kettle bells. There is a lot wrong with that sentence. If I could blast my fat in 12 minutes I would not be toiling on this blog. I would have pulicists and agents to attend to and speaking engagements to prepare for, but some crazy women I know wanted to show me Kettle Bells. At 9:30 p.m. I found my self swinging some weird 12 pound weight while a perky and fully abbed-out chick kept saying, "You're almost there." Where? is what I wanted to know. On the path to freedom from fat? Sunny San Diego where you are taping this damn thing? I didn't feel on my way to anywhere--except on my way to get an ice pack for my sore arms.

As I have said more than once, I can't make this stuff up. Adventure seems to stalk me.