I used to hate summertime. I don't like being overly hot. On the same note, I hate winter as well because I hate being cold more than I hate being hot. I need to find a place to live where it is fall and spring all year round. (If anyone knows of this ideal location, let a girl know. This summer has been different for me though. In June, I started walking here and there to get myself out of the house. As July rolled around, I started going a bit farther for longer stretches. Come this month, I have walked 15 miles total the past week straight. That's right, a week straight. I might be a little addicted, possibly. I wait until just before the sun goes down before I go out, and I always take one, if not both, of the dogs with me. I have a pug and a chihuahua and I have to decide how far I am going to walk so I know which dog I am taking. My pug is a little on the heavy side and because she can only do about a mile, if I go farther than that, she stays home.
For a couple of weeks, Mr. Hubby tried walking too but because of his injury, the pain it caused, and his lawyers recommendation, he had to stop. I feel bad because it was at least getting him out of the house and helping to lose the weight he needs to lose in order to have his knee surgery.I genuinely feel bad for him.
On the upside, Mr. Hubby has lots to say in his downtime. And as you all know, I never know what is going to come out of his mouth at any given time...
