I am a delicate little flower. That is my story and I’m sticking to it since it sounds better than saying that I am a wimpy crippled layabout.

Ever since I started running I’ve had soreness in my right hip flexor. I managed it with special emphasis while stretching. It was sore this week but not especially. On Sunday I did some speed work on the treadmill. I ran a 1/4 mile at 4 mph and then sped it up to 5 mph for 1/10. My legs felt better at the higher speed but I’m not fit enough to keep it going for long. I repeated the intervals until I had done a mile. When I got off the treadmill I was hurting. I think I pulled the hip flexor so now I’m hobbling about. If I sit for more than 30 seconds it tightens all up again. I read all these running blogs for inspiration and they are talking about how they feel post-marathon and I’m crippled by a mile on the treadmill. Oh well, that’s why they are for inspiration only.


This weekend I finished the poinsetta star blocks for the Quiltville mystery quilt. For some reason making 48 of these blocks took an expontentially longer time than making hundreds of half square triangles. I couldn’t figure out why. I haven’t looked ahead to see what the layout is. I almost saw it by accident but I covered my eyes and screamed like someone was throwing acid at my face. I randomly clicked with my mouse to move my RSS reader forward so I didn’t see. Now I have to finish the 208 half square triangles for the other blocks.


The SO is sick. Feel my pain. There is nothing worse than a sick man. He was sleeping on the couch and randomly telling me that I was an angel. I was so sweet for helping to take care of him. Then he took a several hour nap. When he woke up I was the worst person on earth. I didn’t care that he was sick. I hadn’t offered to go get him better medicine. I asked ever so sweetly if he was going to be happy with anything I picked out. He decided that he wouldn’t so I made him go with me to the store. I commented that earlier in the day he kept saying I was an angel. He denied that vigorously. He must have been delirious.

Sample conversation:

Him: Maybe I should just sleep on the couch tonight.

Me: That might be a good idea.

Him: What?! You don’t want be sleep with me?!

Behold the joy of sick man brain. I can’t wait until he’s better so I can yell at him.

Later I tucked him in on the couch. “Now here’s the quilt that I made just for you with a nice soft flannel back to cuddle with because I’m nice.” And don’t you forget it buddy or else!