Friday Rain In June

It has been raining non stop for what seems like days.  That heavy rain that comes with a cold wind.  At home the backyard is so wet and uninviting.  Everything is soaked through and through.

My son's camp got cancelled yesterday.  We did not find out until we had dropped him off at school.  It was rained out.

So he got to school completely loaded for a trek and overnight camp only to find out that they were going to do a day hike up in the hills instead.  Everyone was disappointed.

The bus took them to the Kokoda steps which is about an hour from the school.  I have trained for the Oxfam walk quite a lot up there and it is not that easy.  Seven hundred or so steep steps in the relentless rain.  What a most uncomfortable thing to do for seventy teenage kids carrying their heavily laden back packs.

My son is not familiar with exerting himself except when twiddling his thumbs on the Xbox controller. He was none too happy about the whole day.  He was hot and the pack was heavy.  I had wrapped everything in plastic bags in the pack which is just as well as it the pack was soaked through.  When he got home we had to spread out the sleeping bag though as the cover was not waterproof.

I know he really felt the pain of it.  I could hear it in his voice when I spoke to him on the phone.  He was tired and had changed out of clothes and straight into his pj's the moment he got home.  Despite my knowing that he found it really hard, I could not help but laugh about it.

This morning he tried to get out of band practice at school at 7.45am because he hurt so much.  I gave him two pain killers and told him to deal with it.  Honestly, seriously, truly - he was a bit pathetic.  My husband raised his eyebrows a bit about the whole thing but I did remind him of how he acted each time he had a man cold.  He denied it.  Said he had not had a man cold for years.  He would not dare have a man cold in our house.

Anyway, the good thing about it all was that he had an idea of what it was like to do some bushwalking and carry a back pack.

Last night I went to the new fantabulous gym that has opened up around the corner.  Just for a proper look around and to be really, really sure it was what I wanted to be part of.  I weighed up a few things before I made a decision.  How far it was from home.  How big it was.  The atmosphere.  It was all very impressive but I decided that I would try to support a smaller and more personal gym that was a bit closer to home.  I have joined glitzy gyms in the past but at the end of the day I don't need that much.  Some classes, free weights and not too far from home.  The one I might go for is in walking distance and it is also a women's gym which is neither here nor there but it just happens to be one.

It is not the difference in cost that is the deciding factor.  The new place has taken a lot of business from local gyms and personal trainers.  Even the group I have just resigned from saw at least ten people leave.  I understand that happens in the world of business but it is easy to be caught up in the newness of a sports centre.  I just feel that by going to it I am part of something unethical.  I like a more personal atmosphere where the staff know me.

Then again, the smaller gym has fewer classes.  Barely nil on the weekend and none on a Friday evening.  My options are restricted.  Do I go ethical (support local) or do I go helpful to me (classes when I want them)?  I might wait another week before I decided.  It's too hard right now.

Another week coming to an end.  Another post outlining the days that have passed.   I have been slowly converting each post to a document on my computer to print out later.  Just in case Blogger decides to no longer exist.

Years ago when I first started blogging lots of people would read it.  Leave comments.  Over the years people get into it and then drop out.  When I first started blogging I would check my stats and worry if nobody read my blog.  Now I would rarely check stats.    If nobody comments I don't fret.  I just keep blogging away.  I don't even know who reads it now.  Or if many do.  Or any.  It's okay either way.

Sometimes people just stop blogging without any note as to why.  Their words just drift into the cyber grave yard of ex bloggers.  That is the legacy of the future.  Words in cyber space.  The diaries and journals of thousands of people we feel we know but we only knew what they chose to tell us.  We drew our own conclusions about who they were.

I wonder if, in 100 years or so, some television show will be having specials on unattended blogs.  They could try to follow up what happened to the author.   "Whatever happened to Blah Blah Blogger?".  Last recorded post in June 2056.  Bit like that show "Where are you  really from?".

Deep.

Ciao
LC