Ashtanga....a great way to start an awesome day
On Saturday morning past Lisa and I ran our preferred Saturday morning routine; I dropped Lisa off at the AYC for an Ashtanga 1 Class and took Grant and Dean to Turtle Park. The park was pretty much vacant. Dean rode his bicycle over to the basketball court and did a few uneventful loops, somehow it just is not the same without other kids to ride and race with. After Dean lost interest with pedaling in circles we moved to the toddler section of the park; all sorts of the classic slides, swings, and jungle gyms....then there is also a very large sand box as well as a short hardpacked dirt hill. It is an odd yet wonderful little park. For some reason this park has become the land of the misfit toys, or more precisely the land of the old broken toys. It is oddly enough an asset. There are all sorts of battered beach toys in the sandbox and the hill is used for riding old big wheels and other cars down. Well, the big wheels have disappeared, perhaps they were a tad too much of a liability, but I add the missing toy to aid in the imagery. Dean played solo as the other children filled in around him. It is parallel play. The children play alone, yet they play more vigorously in the presence of others. Grant was entertained by all that was around him and even got to get some swing action. With some negotiation I was able to tear Dean away without any tears, there was some force, but no tears. The car was loaded up, Dean was fueled up with a Capri Sun and we were motoring down the road. We arrived just in time for the transition. Lisa comes out of Yoga and I get to go into Yoga. It is a simple system. I look forward to the time with the boys and I look forward to the Open Yoga class afterwards.
My usual teacher Gail was there but on her way out the door. Gail had some other plans and another instructor was subbing in for her. It is always interesting to see what each teach stresses. It is not that I feel that one teacher is better than any other, they are just different. Some students prefer different styles. As for me, I just like the variety.
the factory bell is about to chime
or the whistle is about to blow
whatever
I am outta here
On Saturday morning past Lisa and I ran our preferred Saturday morning routine; I dropped Lisa off at the AYC for an Ashtanga 1 Class and took Grant and Dean to Turtle Park. The park was pretty much vacant. Dean rode his bicycle over to the basketball court and did a few uneventful loops, somehow it just is not the same without other kids to ride and race with. After Dean lost interest with pedaling in circles we moved to the toddler section of the park; all sorts of the classic slides, swings, and jungle gyms....then there is also a very large sand box as well as a short hardpacked dirt hill. It is an odd yet wonderful little park. For some reason this park has become the land of the misfit toys, or more precisely the land of the old broken toys. It is oddly enough an asset. There are all sorts of battered beach toys in the sandbox and the hill is used for riding old big wheels and other cars down. Well, the big wheels have disappeared, perhaps they were a tad too much of a liability, but I add the missing toy to aid in the imagery. Dean played solo as the other children filled in around him. It is parallel play. The children play alone, yet they play more vigorously in the presence of others. Grant was entertained by all that was around him and even got to get some swing action. With some negotiation I was able to tear Dean away without any tears, there was some force, but no tears. The car was loaded up, Dean was fueled up with a Capri Sun and we were motoring down the road. We arrived just in time for the transition. Lisa comes out of Yoga and I get to go into Yoga. It is a simple system. I look forward to the time with the boys and I look forward to the Open Yoga class afterwards.
My usual teacher Gail was there but on her way out the door. Gail had some other plans and another instructor was subbing in for her. It is always interesting to see what each teach stresses. It is not that I feel that one teacher is better than any other, they are just different. Some students prefer different styles. As for me, I just like the variety.
the factory bell is about to chime
or the whistle is about to blow
whatever
I am outta here