Holey Yoga

I tell myself, when I need to put a positive spin on things, that I take pride in the worn clothing my husband and I routinely wear.  The holes in the knees of our jeans; the wear around the necklines that no needle and thread could ever hope to repair; the sad, frayed sweaters—all are symbols: We are Frugal.  We are Salt of the Earth.  We Use Things Up. 

I tell myself we’re not Poor.  We’re not Cheap.    We’re not Waiting to Lose Weight before buying new clothes.  No, this fable of mine goes, we’re Putting Money By for college and retirement.

But this month, we had just enough leftover cash to pay for six weeks of yoga classes for my daughters and me. 

Because yoga’s good for when you’re thinking about college expenses and how to pay them.

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Wellness--Fair?

My bank held a wellness fair last weekend.  A rock station broadcast live from the parking lot.  Employees milled around, pretending to direct traffic and generally appearing to be in a festive mood.  There were balloons.  There were a lot of plastic giveaways; the kind that break about five minutes after you get them home.  There was a huge prize wheel, too, beside which an employee grinned broadly as some guy gave the wheel a mighty spin, probably hoping to win better rates on his CD.  But I’m guessing he won the key ring with the bank’s name on it.

There was one booth demonstrating tai chi; another booth with yoga; a health food restaurant giving away invisible samples in little paper cups; and some workout company handing out plastic water bottles.

 “Come with us, Mom.”  Filibuster said, as she and V dug through their purses for their debit cards.

“No way.  I’m not going out there.”  I locked my door. 

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