Quistilton is leaping into the twenty-first century, ladies and gentlemen. First of all, the Husband and I joined a gym, a gym that’s so fancy I keep calling it a club and scurrying through because I think they’re going to kick me out for not shaving my legs. Second, I got an iPod, or iShuffle, or whatever the cheapest one is called. This thing is changing my life. I may be reluctant to embrace new gadgetry, but anything that allows me to rock out to Bad Religion while I’m walking the dog is alright by me.

The club, er, gym, is amazing. They have three pools, sauna and steam room, scads of running/stair climbing/arm-pumping, leg-wiggling machines, and will soon have a café. I am spending a LOT of time there. The best part about it is that I can now almost swim for real, i.e. after two weeks of diligent practice, the lifeguard doesn’t jump up nervously when I enter the pool anymore. I have already gone swimming more times than I did prior to my last two triathlons, COMBINED. Perhaps this year the kayakers won’t shadow me.

The small ones are well. The Biggie had her second report card, and got all “Excellent” marks in gym. She says it is because she is going to be a hockey goalie for Big Red, and is already in training. The Wee One has not been sick or injured in any major way for two months, yeeha! (Knock wood!) The Husband has been transforming the kitchen from its formerly oddly patched-together state into something resembling normalcy, albeit in our typical eclectic style (faux slate floor, burgundy tile countertop as well as the preexisting blue petroglyph and butcher block countertops—you have to see it to understand, but it works!). What pleases me is that the washer and dryer are no longer in there, and I can wash clothes without the sensation that a rocket is being launched from the kitchen.

That’s about all; there is no pressing political, child-related or societal subject bugging me lately—now, isn’t that nice for a change?