Saturday, August 21, 2010

Walk your Cheffi.

Here I am at 4-something in the morning, hacking my brains out from a cold (that's another blog) and I am reflecting on J's efforts to walk his Cheffi every day.

For a short time J's daughter couldn't say my name correctly. It kept coming out Cheffi. Well, it stuck. I'm ok with this though, I've had worse nick names. Now she says my name correctly and J and his son will probably forever call me Cheffi. It will be one of those stories we tell everyone until the end of time. When K was little she called me Cheffi and Cheffi I stayed.

So, I'm Cheffi. And I frequently call J "my J". So of course he calls me "my Cheffi". Well a while back we made a pact to excersise regularly.....then we promptly failed to follow through on it. So sometime last week J got motivated again. We were out somewhere, probably Green Lake in Seattle, and he said something about having to walk his Cheffi. He knows that I need to build on excersise slowly so he has decided that for the time being he's going to walk his Cheffi daily. Its become one of our little coupley things. "Don't forget to walk your Cheffi today!" So he takes me different places. We even hiked half way up Rattlesnake Ridge, and would have made it the whole way if it hadn't been so hot that day.

Yesterday J decided he couldn't live without a foot long chilli dog from Sonic. Well we don't have a Sonic close by so we litterally made a day out going to get this hot dog. We got to Ferndale, which is almost to the Canadian border, he got his hot dog and I got popcorn chicken. Then we decided to take Chuckanut Drive back. If you get the chance to do this drive then do it. Its gorgeous. We even found a little state park with a fairly easy trail down to the beach. Even in my sick state I could handle it. So J got his hot dog and Cheffi got her walk, even sick.

The moral of this story is this: if you have, or ever aquire, a Cheffi, be sure to walk her every day. Its good for her, especially when she's sick.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010


Picture it! A 3 year old little girl wakes up on Monday sneezing her brains out and with a drippy faucet for a nose. She of course is too little to understand about covering her face when she sneezes. And she is also too little to wipe her own nose. I was as care ful as I could be, hand santizer galor! And yet, now I have the snot faucet nose, my throat feels like I swallowed sand paper, and I have a nasty cough. Uhg. I don't need this. Humph! At least I'm getting it out of the way now and not doing it when I'm supposed to go to Mexico.