Do ridiculous bets count as an adventure?

I know better, but I did it anyway. I made a very ridiculous wager with someone when I knew I probably would lose.

We headed to the northwoods this weekend. Going to a cabin in the northwoods is just a very good excuse to do absolutely nothing for the weekend without feeling guilty. The first day we did exactly that, absolutely nothing. And I loved it. All I did was read magazines. Well o.k. the first thing was to grab a bottle of beer and then read magazines. The kids love goofing around with their cousins and playing in the snow. I enjoy watching the kids out the window from my comfy spot on the couch. I guess I should be a little concerned as they careen down the hill in their sled right onto the lake, but if snowmobiles can go on the lake, they must be fine. Plus the exercise back up the hill is good for them.

The second day started out much the same. Well actually I did wait till the afternoon before grabbing a bottle of beer. I also completed my knitting homework and stitched three inches of my hat. It ended up being four inches, but I need to wait till Tuesday to fix that because I have no idea how to unravel the extra inch without losing any stitches.

The snow was beautiful to watch from my comfy spot on the couch, but by early afternoon I did want to go outside for just a bit. No I did not go sledding, nor cross country skiing. I did what most people do in the northwoods. We went snowmobiling. And of course where do you go when snowmobiling. To the bar.

Back at the cabin we decided to turn up the music and play some pool. You would think a simple game of pool would be enough, but no, some people wanted to add a little competition to the game. It all started with one person betting that the loser has to run in their swimsuit outside, down the hill, towards the lake and back up again. O.k. it really started with the loser running naked down the hill to the lake and back, but we luckily amended that bet. It was also added that the loser could run in their boots (it was icy outside and freezing). The game started with one win of the game and then best of 3 and then best of 5. It ended up one person losing by scratching the eight ball. I must add at this point that we were playing sloppy pool, so no official rules to make the game never end. As a very good sport the other person who really should have never won if it wasn't for the scratched eight ball, joined the loser and they both ran down the hill and back.

We all had a good laugh and decided to continue playing without any bets.

"Let's add a wager to this game", my brother-in-law exclaimed.

"I'm fine playing without any bets, thank you." I declared back.

"Oh come on, it's a little more fun to have a challenge to play against", added my spouse.

Since he wasn't playing this set, I'm not sure why he decided it would be fun. I still protested, but I am really bad at peer pressure. Plus, I had a sinking feeling I would lose.

"Fine", I said. And it was decided to play the best of three. I really wasn't in the mood to play all night.

As luck would have it, I lost the first game. Thank goodness I said best of three. My brother-in-law and I played a good second game. However, at the end he shot in his last three balls and was shooting for the eight ball. For some miracle. A miracle for me, he scratched and in went the cue ball.

One to one.

This last game was the determining factor. All went as usual and I was actually winning. I kept thinking, 'thank goodness'. I was in no mood to run outside in my skimpies (I did not bring my swimsuit, there was no hot tub, so why bring them).

"Eight ball in the corner pocket", I pointed to the far right corner. I knew I could do it and felt great. I pulled back my pool stick and ever so slightly, hit the cue ball. I watched as the eight ball went in very nicely into the corner pocket. Bingo.

But wait the cue ball did not do what I expected. It started heading to the other pocket. 'NO', I screamed in my head. And in very slow motion, I watched that damn cue ball fall right into the other corner pocket.

"SCRATCH!" yelled my brother-in-law.

Unbelievable. My spouse got a real kick of me losing.

Since dinner was ready I decided to hold off on my bet until after dinner. But then again, I should just get it over with. And then better yet, everyone is now heading to dinner, so perhaps I will do my run real quick without the whole crew watching. There were quite a few people up at the cabin.

So I ran to the garage, grabbed my boots, headed back down, grabbed my husband's running shorts (I wanted to maintain some dignity) and ran out the door. Was it sneaky to not let anyone know? Sure, but hey the bet didn't say everyone had to watch.

My spouse did watch my escapade to head outside and I thought he would be on my side.

I really, really should have known better.

I made my run and sure enough there was my brother-in-law taking pictures. To top off their fun, the door was locked to come back in.

So there you have it, the adventure of an almost 40 year old, who knew better than to make a bet, standing outside of a glass door, freezing, with my brother-in-law rolling in laughter.

I want to send a big thank you to my sister-in-law for finally opening the door.

Do I have to climb a mountain to be adventurous

You hear stories of people bungee jumping or skydiving for the first time. Some even go as far as to climb a mountain to find an adventure. And I mean a very BIG mountain or summit. They say there is a thrill. Now do I have to climb a mountain to find an adventure?

My idea of an adventure is trying anything new. Isn't that what life's about? Trying something new and reaching a goal. If your goal is to lose a few pounds, great. If you want to run a marathon for the first time, hey go for it. I'll cheer you on from the sidelines. I know a young woman in her 20s who decided to join a women's football team. I will be there for her games. With ice packs. But for me, I think I'll just stick to my new crafts.

I did want to skydive at one point in my 20s (bungee jumping never crossed my mind). Now, not so much. Why do I want to injure myself on purpose? Once again people may say it's the thrill and the chance of getting hurt is very slim, but slim is still too much for me. I haven't heard of too many injuries knitting. But of course you never know.

My first knitting class did take place on Tuesday. What did I learn? I have been knitting incorrectly. But hey I did finish a scarf, didn't I?

"You're knitting backwards"

"What do you mean I'm knitting backwards?"

"You are knitting with the yarn going clockwise around the needle. You need to wrap the yarn counterclockwise. Do you see how the yarn twists and you end up with gaps?"

Now this is where I see nothing, but what do I know? So I did as I was told and started knitting the yarn counter clockwise. This is where I thought knitting does seem a little easier and I guess the stitches do look better. Which is why I took the class. So thank you my knitting instructor.

I am also thankful to my knitting instructor because I messed up a whole row of stitches and at home would just unravel it all, but with a lot of patience on the part of my instructor (I have no patience what so ever), she fixed the row and showed me how to fix a row.

Now here's the problem. My homework. I have to stitch three more inches by next Tuesday. I really hope I don't twist the stitches. I mean come on. It's not like I'm climbing a mountain.

You're Restless Baby

I kept thinking I was bored, but that would mean I have no interests. Which is of course far from the truth. I have a lot of interests. Have I even mentioned jewelry making as one of my hobbies. That I actually still enjoy doing.

My husband told me I was just restless. Now what does that mean exactly? According to the dictionary restless means "Not satisfied to be at rest or in peace." Now that seems a little rough to me. I think I like the definition better of "eager for change." That seems to define my dilemma much better.

Eager for change helps define my newest hobby, knitting. Knitting helps keep me occupied. I can't seem to just sit still. Knitting allows me to concentrate on something. As I mentioned earlier, I do have one nifty scarf for my efforts. I tried to make a scarf for my son. However, he wanted two colors. I learned quite fast that I don't know how to switch back and forth from one color to the next and back again. I did finish, but it's just unraveling, so I will have to try again.

To solve my knitting mistakes, I did sign up for a knitting class. I am looking forward to my first class on Tuesday. It's on how to knit a hat. I hope to learn some new skills to redo a multi color scarf for my son and perhaps have a cute winter hat to wear. It would help tolerate a cold winter. It will also be nice to be able to figure out how to fix any dropped stitches.

My first attempt at knitting led to frustration. I would drop a stitch and not know how to pick it up. So what did I do? Unravel several hours of work and start over. This was not very therapeutic.

Finally a friend reminded me, "Ingrid, knitting is supposed to be calming."

So I thought, o.k. Let me try again.

More success this time. I still don't know how to pick up a stitch, but I embrace my mistakes.

Now you think knitting would be enough for now, but no. I still am feeling restless. What is it I want to accomplish?

"The University offers mini-courses", my husband suggested. The mini-courses were more of a way for him to cure his restlessness during the winter. At first I thought I was not interested in going back to school, even for one class.

However, I decided to embrace the idea and thought perhaps they had a class on writing. I have always been interested in writing, but besides reading a lot, I never pursued writing. I think I actually tried to avoid writing classes. Perhaps I just didn't want to write about subjects other people wanted.

I scrolled through the mini-course offerings and was quite excited to see a class on writing. But not only writing, a class on how to write a family memoir. That's one of the few things left on my high school bucket list, aside from going to Hawaii. In high school I said I would write a memoir about my parents immigrating to America.

Now before I delve into this memoir (another blog post), why in the world do I have a high school bucket list. As a senior in high school, a psychology teacher had the class create a book about us. That's it, just a book about ourselves and the family and friends in our lives. A simple book about who I am (at least who I was at the age of 18).

Besides listing my favorite things at the time, which is quite comical in itself, and my friends describing me (there's a lot of talking issues in those - which seems to be a pattern). We wrote a list of 20 things we would like to accomplish in our life. A bucket list made for an 18 year old. I guess over 20 years later I should start a new one.

What do I want to do now?

My sister always told me that whatever I wanted would happen. I had fun in my 20s and married when I wanted. I said I would have children in my 30s and so I did. But I am turning 40, now what? What do I want to accomplish in this new decade?

I have tried my share of crafts. Scrapbooking was fun for about a year (at least each of my children have a scrapbook for their first year of life). I even tried my hand at stamping cards, (now sitting in a box on a shelf). What will I ever do with all those stamps? I started to cross stitch blankets, but those just sit in my closet unfinished. I did start to play with some gardening. And I haven't given up yet on creating a masterful herb garden (something about needing more sun would perhaps solve my problem). And this year I decided to learn how to knit. I do have one nifty scarf for that effort.

People say I talk a lot and then I thought what would happen if I spoke to my computer. And so it goes....