Dear Loyal Readers and Fellow Dorks.

Our internet and cable are not working and will likely not be repaired for over a week. I'm writing this quick note from Jess' office. Talk to you next week! In the meantime I'm going to have to figure out what to do when I can't watch TV or write on this blog. Study Chemistry?

Shoes

If you haven't figured it out yet, I have no idea what I am doing. I'm basically winging it. While other women were reading mountains of parenting books during their pregnancies I was puking my guts up and trying to figure out how my carefully calculated plan had come so off course.

I basically follow JAC around all day and let him do whatever interests him. A few days ago I let him dig in my closet and he came our carrying a pink high heel shoe. He thought it was quite the prize and hauled it around most of the morning. I salute his taste in shoes.

I have one pair of shoes that I wear almost every day. I can slip them on quickly and they look pretty good with a pair of jeans. I was dashing around last week trying to get out the door on time for an appointment. I went to grab my everyday shoes and could only find the left shoe. Unless I wanted to hop on one foot to my appointment, I was going to have to find the other shoe fast. I inventoried my brain searching for the last time I had seen the shoe.

I remembered. The last time I had seen the shoe JAC was carrying it around the house. I began a mad search. I looked in his favorite spots - behind the TV and under the couch. After 10 minutes of searching I gave up and opted to wear an old pair of boots instead.

I puzzled over the missing shoe for days. It even woke me up at night. Our house is not that big. There aren't too many place a shoe could be. This morning I opened the bottom drawer of my dresser and dug around for a sweater. Buried amidst the clothes was the missing shoe! Apparently JAC had hid it there when I wasn't looking. This kid is sneaky.

Safety

Have you noticed that there's been a shortage of posts lately? This phenomenon can be summed up in one word - Chemistry. It is kicking my tail and I hate it and I love it. I'm slowly teaching myself all of the math that I didn't learn in high school. I used to say I hated math. I don't feel like that is true anymore. I like that it is basically problem solving and creative thinking all wrapped up into a package of numbers. I also find it refreshing because your opinion doesn't really matter in math.

My last job had a lot to do with opinions. Most of the opinions were educated and all were passionate but some days I came home feeling like I had been living in a nerd dominated episode of Jerry Springer. I love those nerds. I fit right in but math is nice.

Last night we watched a 1 hour video on lab safety. This video was so detailed that I felt scared to sit in the lab by the time we were done watching. I've always been very accident prone. My finger is currently a blistered mess from a run in with hot caramel. After watching that video I am sure that they should not allow me in the chemistry lab.

I think JAC values safety. For Christmas my mom bought Jess a tool set and JAC a small child's tool set which included a set of play safety glasses. JAC loves wearing them. He digs them out of the toy box, brings them to me and cries until I put them on him. I was trying to take a picture of this when the worst happened. I was sitting at the top of the stairs watching JAC climb up. I was trying to get a picture of JAC wearing his safety glasses and carrying a paint brush. JAC was almost to the top of the stairs and I almost had the perfect picture. In an instant he slipped. He slid down the first two stairs and then went into an all out roll to the bottom.

When I reached him at the bottom he was screaming his head off. I checked his pupils for concussion indicators. I palpated for any injuries and then I did the phone test. I gave him Jess' cell phone - a rare treat because he loves cell phones but is not allowed to play with them. Instantly JAC stopped screaming and started pushing buttons. I figured if a cell phone could cure him he wasn't hurt but scared. I was scared too but at least JAC was wearing his safety glasses.

Trail Review...As Promised...Just a Little Late.

For Christmas I stopped by REI and picked up two booklets of local hikes to stuff in Jess' stocking. A mountain man working at the store advised me on which booklets to buy. On my way to the check out I cheerily exclaimed that I couldn't wait for warmer weather to hike the trails.

The mountain man looked shocked and deeply saddened. He encouraged me to hike in the winter too. I made a lame excuse about not being able to take our baby out in the cold but frankly I'm the baby who doesn't like the cold.

On Saturday I woke up and the sun was shining. The weather was above freezing and I knew it was the perfect day to hike. Jess found a trail in his book and I packed us a lunch and filled the thermos with hot coffee. We went to Catoctin Mountain Park in Thurmont, MD.

Winter hiking has the advantage of more solitude on the trail but requires more logistical planning. We had to bring layers of clothing and back up clothes in case we got wet. I packaged JAC in three sweat shirts, two pairs of pants, a hat and mittens. His eyes bulged as we deposited him into the baby backpack but he was a good sport.

We hiked a circuit of about six miles. The trail was crusted in ice and very slick in places but the air was fresh. It felt good to be outside. We stopped in the middle for lunch on a big rock. We let JAC walk around and he found a big stick to play with. He cried when we took it away and put him back in the pack but he eventually settled in for the walk home.

We were all pretty chilled by the time we made it back to our car. I strapped JAC into his car seat, gave him his bottle and turned the heat on high. He was asleep within minutes. Walking in the woods was lovely. It was a great day of hanging out with the two guys I love the most and worth braving the cold. Here's a couple more pictures.

Hiking and the Beach

Have you ever got up in the middle of church service and drove to the beach? Today I did. I sat down next to Jesse somewhere in the middle of the sermon, after doing nursery duty, on the back pew of a church full of believers and instantly knew something was wrong. I can't explain it but somehow Jess understood it too. We got up, picked up our son and drove 1.5 hours to the beach. We drank espressos, walked along the board walk and swung on a swing set with our son. It felt like a we had pushed pause and it was perfect.

Jess and I have both felt like for the last six months or so we've been waiting. We're not sure what we're waiting for but in the meantime we're doing the best we can. I am not advocating the beach over church but I am in love with a man who knew today was a day to go to the beach.

While I ponder these things I'll leave you with some pictures from a hike we took on Saturday. It was lovely and I'll post a trail review tomorrow with a couple more pictures. I hope everyone had a great Sunday.

Wild Animals

I live in Arlington, VA. Yesterday I was doing my Chemistry homework, looked out the window and noticed my neighbor standing on the curb in the cold. Two exterminator trucks were parked on the curb so I assumed she was fumigating her house and invited her to sit in the warmth of my house while she waited. She said she didn't want to come in because she was waiting to see "it."

"It" turned out to be a raccoon living in her chimney. Apparently, he had made a warm cozy home for the winter and wasn't planning on coming out. The gig was up when he tried to escape into my neighbor's house. She scared him back into the chimney, blocked the entrance and called the exterminators.

As I mentioned before, I live in Arlington, VA. Things like this don't happen often here so I grabbed my camera to document the occasion. The raccoon was flushed out the top of the chimney, jumped off the roof and then trotted down the street. We haven't seen him since.

Here's the pictures and a couple of pictures of the wild animals that live in my house too.

Buttons

Guys like buttons and JAC is no exception. Whether it is the remote or my calculator, if JAC sees a button he wants to push it. This week JAC learned about two new buttons. He can now turn the TV off and on and open and close his car window. He gets great pleasure out of both of these activities and I am sure other drivers wonder if I am crazy as they watch our car window go up and down as I drive down the street. I think I'll just smile and tell them, "I have a kid who likes to push my buttons."

Happy Thursday friends!

Biscuits

Yesterday I posted a depressing story of woe. Today I am determined to share some levity. I made cookies yesterday and they were delicious. I think cookies are my all time favorite dessert. In the UK they call cookies biscuits and they're a favorite teatime snack.

Researchers in the UK recently revealed millions of Britons have been injured by their biscuits. Injuries include being scalded by daring dunking in tea, poking yourself in the eye with a cookie or being bitten by a dog while teasing it with a cookie. The study reported 28% of Britons have choked on cookie crumbs while 10% reported chipping a tooth on a cookie. Who knew the hidden hazards of the cookie?

Cookie dough makes life much more bearable and so does those moments when your child is unexpectedly nice. I always complain that JAC really isn't very cuddly. He's a bundle of dynamite and never stops moving.

Last week JAC woke up from his nap and we went upstairs to the kitchen. JAC was running around looking for trouble and I didn't exactly share in his enthusiasm. Instead I decided to lie spread eagle on the kitchen floor and stare at the ceiling. JAC ran around for a few minutes and then sat down on the floor, scooted over to me and lay his head on my arm. For five minutes we both just lied there staring at the ceiling and were glad we were with each other.

When there is Nothing to Say

Today is Monday. I hate Monday with every inch of my being. It never seems to go well. It is always shadowed by loneliness. We had a little get together last night and it somehow didn't go quite as I had planned but at least our house is really clean. It is nice to wake up to a clean house.

JAC has really started to protest nap time. This is infinitely irritating to me. I hate tantrums. The doctor gave us a print out describing what to do in times of tantrums. I don't care what the paper says, all I want to do is scream and then imagine I am some place different. I hate always having to have self control.

He protested his nap time as usual. I didn't want to give in but I finally checked on him. It was another poo disaster. The kid took his diaper off. He had to have a bath. Everything had to be washed - the sheets, toys, blankets, crib bumber - all disgusting. I yelled at him. He was trying to climb out of the bath again. Now I feel guilty. I was thinking of taking the crib bumper off anyways. JAC has been attempting to use it to scale the crib.

After everything had been scrubbed and disinfected I put JAC back in the crib for his nap. He screamed like he was dying. I hated myself for being heartless. I finally brought him a bottle because I know he loves milk and I know I shouldn't have screamed at him.

Somewhere in the middle of this chaos a thought came to my mind. It made a nest in my brain and won't go away. I miss me. That was the thought I had. I miss me. I don't feel like myself.

I know this overly long post seems like a stream of complaint. This is not a bad day. It is a normal day. The weather is nice and when JAC wakes up from his nap we will go for a run. Now I'll make cookies. We don't need cookies but I find baking has a calming affect on me.

Potato Soup

My husband thinks he's Irish. One day I looked up the name Connelly and it said it had Scottish origins. When I told my husband he didn't believe me but I think he really just likes to have an excuse to celebrate St. Patrick's Day.

My sort-of Irish husband loves Potato Soup. I love it too because it is the easiest, cheapest and fastest meal you'll ever make. Here are the directions:

7 peeled, cubed Idaho potatoes

1 can of evaporated milk

2 teaspoons salt

1 dash black pepper

1/2 teaspoon of garlic powder

Put the potatoes in pot and completely cover with water. Bring to boil. Let boil for approximately 6 minutes and then simmer until the potatoes are soft. Do not drain water. Mush potatoes with a potato masher. Add seasonings to taste. Add evaporated milk and let simmer for 20 minutes. Stir occasionally.

We like to garnish our soup with green onions, chopped ham, sour cream and cheese.

The Stats

Since JAC's birthday is so close to Christmas we had to wait until January for his 1 year old doctor's appointment. As usual JAC put on a good show for the doctor. Here's his stats:

Height 31.5 inches - 85%

Weight 25.8 lbs - 85%

We sure are proud of this little guy.

Something I'm Crazy About

Our Church has been in the middle of a renovation that never seems to end. Like most church renovations the project depends largely on volunteer labor and I have a chronic desire to volunteer. You would think my time in the military would have broken me of that. Luckily Jess never seems to mind my frequent willingness to volunteer us for things.

One of the rooms in the church was just re-drywalled and I heard they needed someone to sand and paint. This sounded easy enough so of course I volunteered. When we showed up we were surprised how much sanding and painting this room really needed.

After an hour of sanding the old fashioned way my husband showed up with the greatest thing I have ever seen. He purchased a power sander. As I write the word power sander my heart flutters a bit. Jess offered to let me try it first. I attached the sand paper, turned it on and almost instantly fell in love - the vibration, the power, the dust flying in my face - I loved it all. I wouldn't even give Jess a turn to try it out. I just kept sanding.

I am crazy about power tools. I came home and looked around our house for other things that might need sanding. Sadly I didn't find any but I think I might have found a good reason to buy a scroll saw.

Here's some pictures to prove my power sanding proficiency. As you can tell I take sanding very seriously.

TC -Rock and a Bucket of Paint

Today I am thankful for a bucket of paint. Over the Christmas holiday our landlord had the ceiling in our bathroom replaced. A leak in the roof had caused the bathroom ceiling to fall into disrepair. Our landlord wanted to save some money so he had planned to do the finish work and painting. Unfortunately, his wife had to have hernia surgery around the same time and weeks went by without our bathroom getting finished. It was driving me insane and when Jess dropped by the rent check he suggested that we could finish the bathroom if the landlord would supply the materials. The landlord readily agreed and even offered a small discount in the rent.

I have to admit I wasn't too happy with Jess for volunteering us because I knew I would be the one doing most of the work. I started sanding and painting over the weekend while Jess was out of town. The whole time I mentally practiced my angry speech.

Last night I enlisted Jess' help to finish the job. Strangely, it turned into one of the best nights we have had in a while. Squashed into a tiny bathroom slathering mustard colored paint on the wall we reminisced about the last time we had painted. It turned out that we had both done some painting in the military.

When you're a lowly private in the Army you're basically slave labor but you have health insurance. I remember spending many hours doing manual labor and Jess and I compared stories. There were lots of instances that we moved mounds of heavy stuff. In the civilian world you would have used a fork lift. In the Army you use privates. Jess and I laughed as we recalled be told to build things, asking for a hammer and being told to find a large rock.

Our bathroom is almost finished. I'm looking forward to hanging out in a tiny bathroom with my husband again tonight. This is our first home improvement project to do together. Maybe in a few years we'll be working on our own place.

You Decide

The top picture is my new haircut. The bottom picture is the Texas haircut. I know the difference isn't drastic but somehow I feel 100% better with the new haircut. I'm even thinking about going shorter next time. What do you think?

TC

Dear Readership,

I typically try to write posts that are entertaining, quirky or maybe educational. (How can we forget Truck Nutz?) This year in an effort to help me achieve my goal to be more content and focused on the moment rather than the future, I will be doing some short posts listing things I am thankful for. While most of my posts are meant to benefit others this series which I'll call the Thankfulness Chronicles is for myself. Feel free to read or comment but mostly know when you see a "TC" post that I am working towards being a better version of myself.

This week has been bitterly cold in many parts of the world. D.C has been absolutely frigid and as I complained about the temperature today my friend Cathy reminded me of something important. Icy temperatures kill off disease and insects. The flu season was rough this year. Perhaps the cold is God's way of bringing healing. I am thankful for the cold. I am thankful for wise friends.

Saga

The hair saga continues. Ever since I got the Texas hair cut I knew it was wrong. My gut just told me it wasn't the hair cut for me. I tried to ignore it. I tried to tell myself the real problem was my aversion to change. On Friday night I was sulking around the house and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. At that moment I knew my instincts were right. I took the kitchen scissors out of our drawer and cut four inches off my hair and I love it. Its the shortest haircut I have ever had and I couldn't be happier. I didn't even have to tip the stylist. Jess is going to be really surprised when he gets home.

Fire

We don't own a toaster. I actually really dislike toasters because they take up counter space. Counter space is near priceless in my book. Jess really wants a toaster but I continue to refuse and insist we can just use the broiler on our oven.

Today I was in a very grumpy mood. Jess is going to be gone all weekend and I figure the most mature thing to do is to pout about it. I was sulking around my kitchen making breakfast and writing a quick letter to my sister. All of a sudden I smelled something funny. I remembered my toast in the broiler. I opened the broiler and there were flames all over my toast. I tamped them out, grabbed a spatula and threw the charred, smoking toast out the back door into the snow.

It was exciting. It got my adrenaline pumping. It was funny. I didn't feel like sulking any more. This incident helped to prove my point. If we had a toaster I would still be grumpy. Instead we have burned toast in our back yard.

Heaven

I have heard heaven described in the language of mansions and golden roads but find that mildly unappealing. I have stood on mountain peaks that make mansions and gold seem like worthless sentiments. Most humans desire a vision of heaven - a hope of something greater to come. The heaven I hope for is not material but it is an answer. I hope that the minute I reach heaven I have an answer for all of the overwhelming thoughts that haunt my heart and rattle the attic of my brain.

I have a long list of questions. Some of them are familiar - "Why do some people prosper while others suffer?" "Did I truly live up to my potential?" "Was I a good enough mom?" Lately I have been struggling with a question. "What did Jesus do when he was a baby?" This question suddenly seems more relevant now that I spend most of my waking moments looking after a baby. I know the story about Jesus when he was 12 at the temple but I want to know what happened before that.

I understand that God cannot be put into human terms. I know people will read this and try to remind me of that. When I contemplate Christ as a child I cannot understand how an all- knowing savior could spent years being helpless.

I watch my son and contemplate this. He is joyful. JAC is very joyful about very simple things. JAC is loyal. He squeals with delight every day when Jess comes home from work - a treatment only reserved for his dad. JAC gives hugs. I sit on the floor and JAC walks up to me and tackles me in a hug. We both love this.

On a very simple level perhaps the adult mission of Christ was not so different from the child Christ. Christ was helpless in the fact that he fully surrendered to the will of his father. Jesus' mission taught of a simple kind of love very similar to a child who tackles his mother in a hug two minutes after being spanked for getting into the dog food again.

When I get to heaven I want to know everything. I want to fill in the gaps and understand how Jesus could be completely God and completely a crying helpless baby. Until then I have JAC to demonstrate the basic concepts of joy, loyalty and love. Hopefully, I'm paying attention.

Your Big Head

Today my kid got his head stuck between a piece of furniture and the wall. He had dropped a pen behind the furniture and in his effort to retrieve it wedged his head in the spot. He kept grabbing for the pen with such persistence that it was only after he started wailing that I noticed his head was stuck. He was so angry that his face turned bright red and I couldn't help but laugh. It really cracked me up.

I moved the furniture, freeing JAC and he cried until I gave him some fish crackers. He would stop chewing for a moment, look at me and give a pathetic whimper. Later I took him outside for some fresh air and a preschool aged little girl stopped by with her grandmother to chat. She looked up at JAC and said, "He has big head."

So the moral of the story is, be careful how hard you try to grasp to things you want in life. You might get your big head stuck. I love this kid. He just makes life so much more funny.

The Joy of Cooking

My grandmother gave you me a Joy of Cooking cook book for Christmas this year. The book had once belonged to my Tutu (that's what we called my great grandmother) and throughout the book little recipes she had clipped from magazines and newspapers were hidden between the pages. I spent a whole evening discovering these recipes. I found almost fifty and I enjoyed seeing what my Tutu thought she would like to cook.

As an added bonus my grandmother and put two of my favorite cookie recipes in the front cover. This is the recipe for Rumford Sugar Cookies. The recipe was given to my grandmother in 1959 by an elderly neighbor and had likely been in her family for years. These cookies are addicting and delicious. I made them for New Years and ate more than I'd like to admit to. This recipe is also a bit tricky because the dough is sticky. Be prepared to use an extra cup of flour - flouring the rolling surface repeatedly before rolling the dough.

1/2 Cup Butter

1 Cup Sugar plus 2 Tablespoons

2 Eggs

2 Cups Flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 Tablespoon Milk

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon vanilla

Cream butter, and sugar. Add well beaten eggs. Sift flour, baking powder. Add milk and vanilla. Mix well. Turn out on a floured surface and roll to 1/8 inch thickness. Cut into shapes. Bake at 350 for 6-8 minutes.

You can add nuts to these or brush them with sugar and cinnamon. I coated mine with pink butter cream icing. I think everything tastes better when it is pink.

Butter Cream Icing

1 Cup Softened Butter

4 Cups Powdered Sugar

2 Tablespoons Milk

1 teaspoon Vanilla

Cream all ingredients together and add 3 drops of red food coloring. Mix well.

Proof

JAC is a wild walking man these days. I promised I would post a video to prove it, for my mom. Here it is mom. I wish we lived closer so you could see the real thing.

Soup Week

I've decided it's Soup Week at the Connelly house. Here's my reasoning for this soup fest:

1. I am really really tired of cooking. Jess was home on holiday for almost an entire week and while it was great to have him around I felt like every three hours he was looking at me with longing eyes waiting for me to cook a meal.

2. Soup is cheap.

3. Soup is warm and D.C is destined to be frigid all week.

4. My favorite cooking website is featuring soup this week.

5. Soup is easy. Throw it in the pot and let it simmer. If you feel extra motivated toast some bread to go with it.

6. I don't feel like chewing my food.

7. My house is in a post holiday chaotic mess.

8. My kid tried to eat the dog food again today.

I figured I would cook the usual types of soup but I would love to have a new soup recipe. Does anyone have a soup they are absolutely in love with? Could you send me the recipe? I hope you're warm and cozy at your house this week and I hope you're eating some delicious soup.

Church with a Wild Hooligan

Occasionally I read other blogs written by other moms and I marvel as they document their child sitting quietly on the floor playing with toys during church. Apparently I gave birth to a wild hooligan and I love him so much for that but hooligans are not compatible with church. It takes the mercy and grace of Jesus Christ for me to make it through a Sunday with my sanity intact. Sunday usually goes a little bit like this:

JAC wakes me up - Holy Good Gracious, I'm running late already? Can a kid go to church in his pajamas? Can I go to church in my pajamas? I rush around with hot rollers in my hair, lipstick in one hand trying to shove some pants on my toddler while he tries to escape. In the midst of this chaos I remember I am the official church greeter this morning. If I'm not there in five minutes people won't get greeted at the door. I make an executive decision. We'll be taking separate cars. Jess and JAC can come a little later.

Service starts. My little family is deposited on the back row. This is practically no mans land. This is where families with wild children sit in hopes of not disturbing the whole church. We sing. My child tries to pull all of the pencils out of the pew. I try unsuccessfully to hide them. While I try to hide pencils, JAC has escaped. He is climbing under the pew. I pull him out by his legs. Why do I where skirts? JAC won't sit still. He has learned to walk and makes a mad dash to the back of the church. I relent and take him to the lobby to play. Some other kid is back there and harasses JAC. Where is that kid's dad? I reluctantly take JAC back in the auditorium and give him a bottle. That should keep him quiet. He manages to dump the whole thing on himself. Thank goodness someone gave JAC new birthday clothes when we walked in the door. JAC gets a wardrobe change on the back pew. He seems pleased with himself. Exhausted I finally give up trying to contain this package of action and enthusiasm. I take him to the back and let him walk around. I give him my car keys and they're covered in baby drool.

During announcements the preacher comes to the back. He loves kids. God bless our preacher. He gives JAC little pieces of Listerine breath strips. JAC loves them. He is still for approximately two minutes. They do the altar call and JAC takes it to heart. He is attempting to run to the front. I catch him just in time. I have no idea what the sermon is about. It doesn't really matter because I am thankful - really really thankful when they say they sing the closing song.

Control

I went to happy hour a few nights ago with a bunch of work friends. We were debating personality types. I swore that I was in no way "Type A." My friend Toni laughed and said I was a special kind of "Type A." I didn't use a straight forward approach but instead disassembled the whole system one piece at a time from behind the scenes. She was totally right. I think might greatest ambition is to start a coup some day.

While we were visiting my in-laws we took a couple short road trips to nearby attractions. I would ride in the back seat with JAC while Jess and my father in-law rode in the front. At first I thought this arrangement worked out perfectly. JAC and I shared his fish crackers and played games. Then things started to go wrong.

The guys did that annoying guy thing that I hate the most. They turned off the heat insisting they were hot and it was much more comfortable for the car to be a frigid temperature. JAC and I sat in the back cold and irritated. Next, they turned on "Old Man Music." It wasn't even from our decade and it was horrible. I quickly moved from irritated to angry.

Then I saw a glimmer of hope. Since I rarely ride in the back seat of our explorer I hadn't realized there was a second set of radio controls in the back seat. This was my chance for control - maybe even world domination. The guys would turn it to a horrible radio station and I'd switch the channel. They would turn the sound up and I would turn the sound down. They put in a boring CD and I switched it back to the radio.

They were going crazy in the front seat trying for figure things out. They were banging on the radio, hypothesizing that the radio was stuck in search mode. They even discussed the situation at breakfast the next morning. The whole time I was secretly laughing. They never figured it out but they just about went crazy trying and I relished my tiny bit of control.

On the Road Again

First I ran a marathon. It was magical. It was triumphant and the next morning I could hardly walk. A week later I tried to run again but instead limped. I decided I needed a break. I would take a month off to recover. This month quickly turned into two. DC then became the Arctic and my resolve to exercise quickly diminished. Instead I decided to hibernate and count the extra pounds I gained as insulation for the winter.

This week I glanced myself in a full length mirror. My chocolate covered diet had not been kind to my waistline. I decided to come out of hibernation a few months early. I went to Target and bought a running cap and some gloves. I laced up my jogging shoes, charged my IPOD and drove to the flattest running trail I could find. It was frigid and my IPOD immediately quit working but the exercise felt so good.

I'm definitely not in race shape anymore. It will take a while to get there. I dread the winter jogging season. I hate dodging patches of ice and wearing layers but I find running therapeutic to my overactive brain. So, I'm on the road again. Happy 2010! I hope 2010 brings you some happy running!