A friend started a yoga challenge. I thought about doing it, too, but I inevitably fall short midway or near the end and feel like shit when I ignore the reminders or emails for the remaining days (or weeks) for hauling my ass off whatever flat surface it’s on. Butt, haha, I dug out an old disc from the our movie pile and thought I’d try to do it for as long as I can, no pressure. 

We got the disc in a newspaper in Sydney before 10yo was born and I might have watched it 3 times, including today, but everyone we knew got the paper for the free discs and bags and whatever. The best one was the double album of xmas songs by Bing Crosby and Dean Martin! We still listen to that in December.

Anyhoo, I cleared a space and contemplated my toes and my asshole because yoga makes all parts of us free and limber, especially in your own lounge room, and also my need of a mani-pedi as my dry heels slid across the carpet. The carpet is in need of a vacuum and there was all sorts of shit under the couch when I moved it. So much for the kids cleaning up when I ask them, and for not making weapons in their spare time.

I managed the beginner moves, no problem, except for the part where I’m on the floor and the tv is high on the wall and I’ve the sound off as I thought the boys were still sleeping, silly me, so I had to keep looking up for the next move. Until the end, that is, when she grabbed her ankles and kissed her ass goodbye in some weird, sex-slave pose that I didn’t bother with.

So, a win for this morning and maybe I’ll try again after work, maybe even in the same pants which I bought before we moved to The States and have probably also, only worn three times. And then who knows for the weekend, I’ve heard of wine yoga so maybe I’ll sign up for that challenge.

Yogi out.