My granddaughter's co-op nursery school is fundraising by holding a "trikeathon" and taking pledges. I took the pledge sheet to work with me, but I'm always shy about asking people outright for money. So I thought I'd up the ante a little by offering to avoid elevators and take the stairs for one day for every dollar that was donated. I guess my coworkers are a bit sadistic, because they gleefully donated $102. So now I can't use the elevators for 102 days. And my office is on the 5th floor. I was conflicted, welcoming the donations but feeling my knees already begin to protest. Ah well, it's in a good cause. Maybe I'll lose some weight for the holidays.
Of course, to add to the inner conflict, today's activities don't lend themselves toward losing weight---I'm bottling apple pie filling today. Northern Spy apples are the best, big as softballs and just the right tartness. The temperature is dropping outside, they're predicting snow (so much for my Cape gooseberries, which didn't ripen in time again), and inside the golden kitchen will be filled with the scent of cinnamon. Another perfect weekend!
And then there will be Monday...and all those stairs...
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