I don’t want to blog about menopause and how it is a soul sucking monster that reanimates every skeleton in your closet into a zombie apocalypse of brain gnoshing abattoirs, rendering you incapable of producing simple nouns, therefore I will take this opportunity to inform you of how I am crushing my Fantasy Football league. I reside alone in first place amongst my astonished co-workers who saw me merely as a part time personal trainer and a stay at home mom who surely knows little of the NFL.
What they didn’t know is that deep from within my lair at Pad & Quill world headquarters, I have multi-tasked digesting hours of ESPN radio and fantasy football analysis on my iPhone. Couple this with a somewhat unhealthy obsession with the game, that took root in Denver, November of 1977, when Craig Morton lead a comeback victory over the dreaded Oakland Raiders, pushing the Broncos to our first AFC Championship and Superbowl trip versus the Dallas Cowboys. I’ve learned
Posted: October 15, 2015Categories: Family
Autumn has come to us here in the great glowing north. As a local radio announcer has observed, “Fall comes to us here in the midwest”. Somehow, in Minnesota, in this “coming,” we have a unique ownership. Whereas every other state simply have leaves that change, we have a sense of foreboding. As the fiery cloud of autumn rolls down our state, it is closely followed by the cold hand of winter, to which you eventually resign yourself, and understand that it is trying to kill you.
We took our annual sojourn to the Apple Orchard, where Mr. PQ took every advantage of the iPhone 6s/6s Plus' "Live Photo" feature. I have to admit, the live context of the 12K megapixel photos captures a mama’s heart. It also capture her double chin and stomach suck in just prior to every
Good Idea: maximize your time by fitting in a workout between training clients.
Bad Idea: Leave your work out clothes at home.
Good Idea: Decide to do your weight sets in spite of wearing your personal trainer uniform pants. Should work, you move in multiple planes while training clients, how is this any different?
Bad Idea: Going with “should work”
Good Idea: Walking lunges with arms extended overhead and holding a 35 pound weight to build stabilizer muscles for hiking and rock climbing.
Good Idea: Listening to a sweeping rendition of Con Te Partiro on your iPhone 6 while doing said lunges.
Bad Idea: pay no attention to static sound that has never been present in this piece before.
Good Idea: don’t allow distractions to interrupt your workout, keep lunging.
Bad Idea: Keep lunging until you realize that “static noise” was really your work pants splitting open from crotch to knee, exposing you for all
Whenever Siri sasses me, as she is frequently wont to do, my rejoinder is inevitably that of Linus, as spoken to his femme fatale, in A Charlie Brown Christmas, “Jezebel was the evil wife of king Ahab in the Old Testament. In II Kings, it says that her servants threw her out the window and she landed on her head.”
Just as Linus’ new love interest was intent on keeping him guessing, so Siri Apple Watch changes identities faster then Ilsa Faust in Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation. (Loved this character!) Last week, Siri and her Activity Watch app went all in as psychotic personal trainer. Mr. PQ and I took some much-needed time away, reviving ourselves in the brilliant, blue-sky town of Breckenridge, CO. While Apple Watch granted me 9 minutes of heart pounding exercise for 2 hours of bear climbing up a bowl with a 40 percent grade, Mr. PQ was gifted 40 minutes just for ambling down the street
“Mom, there’s an app that let’s you track your poop, you can even categorize it by type. What stinks though is that they have nowhere to report the smell.” An ironic pun there and one of the many things I’ve learned from my kids this summer. I’ve also learned, that, “dirt is a natural way to keep your hair clean; it absorbs the oils.” Never mind the mud slick on your scalp.
Our US Women’s National Team won the World Cup, taking home the gold and not much else, hopefully FIFA will address that whole pay inequity thing before my grand babies begin to play the Beautiful Game, I look forward to many more July’s with no voice.
Mr. PQ was busy becoming a major radio star the other evening but I had no idea what his topic was to be, I wasn’t allowed to be at the PQ World Headquarters while he was participating in 9to5Mac’s weekly podcast. This has nothing to do with the fact that the FIFA Women’s World Cup is competing in Canada this month. My exclusion from the taping also clearly has nothing to do with my propensity to scream insanely at the television when a goal is scored or mutter incoherently at the oops-I-fell-so-clearly-Christie Rampone-knocked me-over smathlete. Who am I kidding? When it comes to world-class soccer, I revert to my 18-year-old Colorado self; this would be the self, weaned on Bronco football, who lived in the mile high city where exuberant
Item One: The youngest Quill received his Apple Watch last Friday amidst great fanfare and excitement. I was given explicit instructions to pick him up from school, bring the Watch with all packaging intact and bring a knife to facilitate opening. As Mr. PQ has been visiting our design folks south of the border, he requested a video and Face Time presence for the grand unveiling. If there were any more geekdom going on in my car at that moment I believe it would have permanently smelled like Taco Bell and all night gaming sessions. I have to admit, affection from a 14 year old boy can be hard to come by, especially when they are in the public arena, so it does this mama’s heart good to feel the haptic heart rate of my kid pulse against my wrist, and he sends it routinely and serendipitously.
Item Two: We will be staging a contest to see who can load more Apple Watch Apps to their watch. The tie breaking round will consist of creative
Wednesday night either is or is not the grand finale episode of the television series Supernatural, and because our teenage daughter speaks in code, I may never quite discern what prompted the flurry of texts that pulsed through my Apple Watch this afternoon. So I called. “Mom I’m going to my friend’s house to watch the big finale of Supernatural”. Ok that is fine, does this mean the show is ending? “Yes, well no, well there is a season 11 but… oh mom it’s complicated. Can you bring me…?” Being the operational person that I am, I have learned to have the quills text me whenever they require a list of things and the list exceeds my two item memory capacity, I suggested the kid send me a list. “Mom, it’s simple, I need my Supernatural shirt, it has wings on the back and it’s in my room. And I need my Supernatural blanket, it’s on my bed, oh, and I need the little guy
“Is that an Apple Watch?”
Yes, it is.
“Do you like it?”
In addition to compliments about how cute I look in my cowboy boots today, my Apple Watch is the most commented on accessory I currently own.
Do I like it?
My initial response is that I feel the technology is a little lost on me. This has nothing to do with the fact that our son can rewire the space station with it and I have trouble locating the time of day.
Do I like it?
What I really think?
I have decided that Apple Watch is a female; a PMS-ing female. You can talk to her and she won’t talk back, she’s hypersensitive to how you touch her, and way too often you find yourself talking to the hand instead of her face. There is only one solution, I need to eat more chocolate and drink more wine until it oozes from my pores and through her sensors.
And then I need to thank her. Because last Saturday, for the first
It’s Mrs. PQ’s birthday today or, in other words, the annual rite of acknowledging I have the activity level of a 30 year old, the body of a dinged up 40 year old and the mind of a 92 year old. Which explains why I’ve begun referring to myself in third persona.
If it were up to me, we would be offering a 47% discount on every product purchased today, especially our Apple Watch Stand and Catchall for Apple Watch, but Mr. PQ has already lost enough hair trying to teach me to use my Watch that arrived upon my doorstop yesterday afternoon at 3:57pm. (Not that Mr. PQ was paying attention or anything). You see, Apple must surely love me better and thus explains why my watch arrived before Mr. PQ’s.
Allow me to set the scene: As Mr. PQ was across the city on errands with the youngest kid, every other kid, including the adopted neighbor kids, were notified to be on the lookout for the Big Brown Truck. I think for humor’s sake