Choices

I haven't written in awhile because I haven't had much to say.  I've missed a few classes here and there due to work or schedule conflicts so my imagination hasn't been stretched much, but the truth of the matter is that I'm having a bit of a conundrum.  

My wife retires next June and I'm anxious to leave our jewel of the North to go to civilization; preferably the pacific Northwest.  I'd have to get a job with the corporation that runs my current job, so the wife and I are headed down to that neck of the woods to take a look at the area a bit more and see if it's right for us.  

While I have been coming to terms with this I realized that I'll be able to shop around for gyms, restaurants and finally martial arts.  On top of that I'll have to figure out how to say goodbye and try to maximize my final year of learning from Teacher.  And when do I talk about it?  It's still pretty far away...
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The adult class has almost completely dried up while the kids class has expanded to fill the the dojo consistently.  I went early last night because Teacher had some demos for the class and asked me to participate.  Thankfully, I didn't have to go straight into high falls.  Cherub got selected for that particular honor.  Of course I got twisted into knots for the knife and gun attacks.  

Earlier in the day Teacher called me up to ask about doing the demos.  I started laughing and he asked what was so funny.  I asked him in response, "are these the ones where I end up wiping the floor with my face?"  I should be called the amazing Karnac.  Let's just say I was prescient.

The "class", and I'll use that term loosely at this point, consisted of me and Cherub.  I realize that things were founded on a club model over a decade ago, but a good day in class is around five or six.  I still can't get over the changing nature or having people quit when they obviously love it.  

My conversation with Cherub gave me a little happy feeling.  I was complimenting him on his progress and ability.  He's much shorter than me, but he's coming into his mid/late teen's physicality.  I've been struggling to adjust to my lost of ability at 46 and watching him do kip ups like he's built of springs makes the worm of envy twist in my guts.  Regardless, I'm loose with my praise of his abilities.  At 25 he'll be a machine of unbelieveablness assuming he can get a teacher that can push him into that realm.  

After we were talking for a while he said that thought I was the smoothest of everyone in class (of two?) when I relax.  If I'm not; i.e. stopping to think to do what next, I'm horrible and stuttering in everything I do.  Good to know.