No yoga crickle-crackle

I am missing my Wed yoga class. Something about the studio owner going to India. All very well for her, but I'm missing my FF fix.

So tonight I spent an hour in the basement, stretching, doing core stuff. My tree was very peaceful. At one point I was using a softball to roll hard on my calves, IT Band, and inner thighs. Then I was lying on my back, rolling the ball into my butt. Some of it was breathtakingly painful. At one point, lying down, pressing my glute into the ball, there was this loud circle-crackling noise. I'm not sure what it was. Standing up a little bit later felt much better, so maybe it wasn't as alarming as it sounded.

In other news, I sit too much. My office roomie complains about the office chairs all the time. He is just short enough he can move the desk all the way up and stand, so he does periodically. I tried that. I'm enough taller that even at the highest, the desk is about 3 inches too short for me, and I was strongly discouraged from scrounging old phone books to put under the legs of the desk. I have to make do with going for regular water refills.

I haven't lost my mind after all. You are all reassured by this, I know. It turns out that bison painting (see Monday's post) really got put there over the weekend. I've discussed with several of my colleagues and we've all agreed. We never noticed it before Monday. So much for early senility.

Oh, and the wine store called. My last kit is in. I'll be going up one morning on the weekend, once we sort out who is running with who, and when. If you want to worship at the mecca of wine stores in Alberta, let me know. This coming weekend.