Z is for…

I’ve become a little obsessed with Zumba lately. Well maybe not obsessed, but it has become my two times a week, choice of cardio. Other than Roller Derby I haven’t been able to find an aerobic/cardio based activity that makes me work so hard and sweat like crazy. I leave Zumba red faced and with a sense of real accomplishment. 

I am pretty sure I look like a tit doing it, and I avoid looking at my reflection whilst I partake, but I don’t give a crap. The intensity, rush of adrenaline, the euphoria of losing myself in the music… Is just enough to make me forget how stupid I look.

On a Tuesday morning the Zumba class I attend is pretty intense. An hour of none stop, interval style dance that has me aching days afterwards. The Thursday class is less intense, but is still an hour of none stop motion and is just what I need at that point in the week.

Zumba has also been interesting in terms of the music it’s exposed me too. A lot of Latin beats in one class and more current dance/pop music in the other. Genres I wouldn’t usually listen to, but that I’ve really enjoyed dancing to. The day a teacher puts Zumba to Justin Beiber in a class though… I’m done. No time for that shite.

History

I don’t know know why this popped into my head tonight, but I started thinking about my first job. During school, my “job” was to get good grades, I wasn’t paid for it of course, but it did get me into University eventually, so that’s something! My first real job though, was bar tending. And perhaps I was destined to begin there, after all, my dad ran pubs before I was born and I was conceived in a pub… Yep, I’ll just leave that ounce of detail at that. 

I loved my first job, for two years I tended bar in a tiny old mans pub, with regular customers, real ale on hand pulls and the deaf dog of the landlord, at my feet. I knew the patrons orders by memory, I knew their families, their histories and in that short time, sadly I saw some of their demise as well.

I quit that job when I was almost finished with University and had decided to spend 3 months in America with Curtis. From there I worked in two more pubs, neither of which had the same charm as that tiny pub I began in, with its beautifully manicured flower pots, rich wooden bat top, outdated “smoking room” and a history that gave me goosebumps whenever I went down into the cellar.

That pub is boarded up now, my boss and his wife retired, a Londoner took over and was unsuccessful, the economy took a steep drop and well, it’s a protected property at over 100 years old, but goodness knows if it will ever see years of patronage again.

The Pyle Cock Inn, Wednesfield, England

Halloween

This year was the first time taking Calvin out trick or treating. We decorated the front porch a few weeks ago and he has had his fire fighter costume for a little while. I didn’t have a costume for Mia, so we borrowed a kangaroo one from our brother and sister in law.  

Calvin in his fire fighter costume.

  

Mia wasn’t amused at being dressed up, but she got over it!

 
We went out pretty early, about 5:30 when the sun was just beginning to go down and met with our brother and sister in law, their two little ones and our sister in laws parents. The kids trick or treated at a few houses, then we checked out the trunk or treat at the school. It was organized by a new church that is opening today and the kids had a great time getting treats and dancing.

Calvin, Mia and I walked home around 6:40 to give out candy and stopped at a few houses on our way back. In previous years our community is swarming with kids, it felt like there were a lot less this year. I feel like more parents are opting for organized events and trunk or treats put on by the local churches, rather than the traditional trick or treating.

We had our teal pumpkin out in support of the Teal Pumpkin Project, Calvin’s painted pumpkin and we gave out miniature candy bars and Halloween tattoos. 

Calvin’s painted pumpkin.

 
I hope everyone had a spooktacular Halloween! Now to try not to eat all the leftover candy and lay on the couch in a puddle of drool and regret!