She Pushes Good Plow
What's scary is that I find that I actually love exercising. I hate getting there and I hate all the changing and unchanging and showering nonsense but I am starting to really look forward to my Hamster Time, where I get to turn the brain mostly off and scramble around on the human equivalent of the big metal wheel.
I also secretly love plomping around on those big bouncy balls. I'm very serious on it, doing my crunches and whatnot, but in my head I'm going "BOUNCY BOUNCY BOUNCY!"
You should see me doing the weights. I always wear my hair up in a big shmatta and I look very Eastern European peasant-chic, grunting away. I can hear my great-grandfather say in his thick Slovak accent, "She pushes good plow."
(I don't think he ever actually said that, but it makes me laugh)
My great-grandma Anna Billo was a big, hefty lady with upper arms the size of my thighs who lived past 100 on a steady diet of pierogies and Tasty-Cakes (or maybe she just kept them in the house for us). I don't have the genes to be a slimmy gal but I can be, in the immortal words of Stephen Billo, "strong like ox."
(By the way, I would NEVER wear a leotard with yellow tights. I would never wear a leotard, period. People, it's 2005. We have cute boot cut yoga pants now! It's called progress!)
I also secretly love plomping around on those big bouncy balls. I'm very serious on it, doing my crunches and whatnot, but in my head I'm going "BOUNCY BOUNCY BOUNCY!"
You should see me doing the weights. I always wear my hair up in a big shmatta and I look very Eastern European peasant-chic, grunting away. I can hear my great-grandfather say in his thick Slovak accent, "She pushes good plow."
(I don't think he ever actually said that, but it makes me laugh)
My great-grandma Anna Billo was a big, hefty lady with upper arms the size of my thighs who lived past 100 on a steady diet of pierogies and Tasty-Cakes (or maybe she just kept them in the house for us). I don't have the genes to be a slimmy gal but I can be, in the immortal words of Stephen Billo, "strong like ox."
(By the way, I would NEVER wear a leotard with yellow tights. I would never wear a leotard, period. People, it's 2005. We have cute boot cut yoga pants now! It's called progress!)
posted by PeaceBang at 4:20 PM
4 Comments:
Ditto on the Pirogie thing. As a goofy person of Irish extraction raised amongst the Slovaks of Maine (I kid you not, my home town had one of the only Sts. Cyril and Methodius churches in the US), I love that Eastern European comfort food. Not so much the exercizing.
Incidentally, the wife is of Slovak extraction but not into the food... Do you have any good stuffed cabbage recipes?
BITB, did you go to Mazurka when you were in Montreal? SUCH yummy pierogies. But wait, I think you were in Crepeland, and not in Montreal at all...
Adam, I will work on resurrecting my Baba's fabulous halupke recipe. I bet my mom can figure it out. All I remember is those delicious rolled cabbages with ground meat and rice and a little bit of tomato flavor... but how it goes that way, I don't know. My Baba never thought I was serious when I begged her to teach me how to make halupke, pierogie and kalochke. I wonder if T-Man Sam knows (a frequent Canadian reader of Ukranian extraction). Consider me ON IT.
Hey Adam,
http://www.stasek.com/recipes/halupki.html
This looks pretty accurate to me.
A Starving nation thanks you!
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