Runnin' with the Bloods & Crips

I dusted off my running shoes this morning. I have not run since May. Mainly because I did not know where my running shoes were and/or our lives were such a crazy mess of moving and new business starting that I did not have time to do anything else.

Oh sweet burn, how I have missed it. Running makes my mind right. I eeeked out 2 miles this morning, sweating out 3 months of stress/turmoil/change. The glorious high of the toxins pouring out. It's good stuff I tell you.

Anywho...the treadmill is now in one of our barns. It was one of the last things to move from our old house. It is so ridiculously heavy and awkward, that I decided it would be easier to dump it in the barn rather than painfully schlepping it through the house into one of the guest rooms.

Ideally of course, I would like to run outside, on the roads around our house, but I need to build some stamina back up. I would be embarassed for a farmer to find me sprawled out in the grass on the side of the road, sucking wind.

So in the meantime I will be running in the barn. Granted it is an insulated barn so it is not as archaic as it sounds.
And I do have a cool view....Well really that was a selective shot of the view. It was actually a little more depressing...

The one lone remaining trailer load of junk from the old house to unload. Ugh.


This barn is also where our former house cats now reside. You see, I decided that I was done with cat hair on every surface AND since we got little Missy love...the cats had determined that any elevated location (kitchen counter and dining room table) was a better option than being pestered by the mini doxie. I was SO done with all that. So they were relocated to the barn.

This morning when I innocently decided it was time to begin running on the treadmill again, I had no idea that a gangsta style turf war would ensue. Bloods and Crips type stuff.

It involved the indoor barn/former house cats....
Val, who was yawning, and is always gloriously grumpy....and


Jingles, who I dare say is still pissed that he is no longer a house cat.

We'll say they are the Crips or more appropriately in this case....The Crankies.

The Crankies who lived a quiet peaceful existence in the barn, until this morning when I raised the overhead door and let the rift raft in.

The Bloods...or The Bozos as it were. Enter this motely crew, the 3 amigos, an unlikely band of friends.....
1. Bianca, the ever loyal, kindest Border Collie around.

2. Missy the goof ball, boss of everyone, getting her morning roll like a hog routine out of the way.

3. Lastly, A.J. One of the wild kittens we adopted from the pound to roam our property, keeping it free from vermin. Only instead of remaining wild, A.J. is a little sugar lump. Hangs out on the back porch getting love from the humans and strangely enough bonding with Bianca and Missy.

I got on the treadmill and had to blast my i-Pod so I could hear over the Crankies vs. Bozos who had created a mad house of running, jumping, hissing, barking. Thankfully after about 6 minutes they got tired of all that nonsense and the Bozos went back outside to find some trouble elsewhere. Sheesh.

After my run, I plopped on the porch and drank coffee. Bliss.
P.S. Thanks for all of the kind words and support of our soldiers! I appreciate it!!