Committing to Yoga and trying not to laugh

Olivia Birdsall wrote to tell me that yoga instructor, Rodney Yee, had moved down the block from her in Manhattan.  If I lived in Gramercy Park, I'd invite old Rodney over to show him my progress
in following his video.  Maybe, I'd put a bra on and wash my hair and wear long sleeves, but maybe not.  I think I could put a smile on his face.  He'd be oh so polite. I'd serve him English black tea.

I committed to yoga by buying a mat and a block.  Originally, I thought the carpet would be enough, but the truth is that you slide on the carpet. I refused to buy specialty workout clothes, but found what I'm wearing in a bottom drawer along with my swimming suit and goggles.

I should commit to losing twenty pounds, but I haven't put that on the list yet.

Thank you, Syl Carson, for inviting me to Monday morning yoga class.  Maybe, when I've practiced enough with old Rodney . . .

Look, I can move my foot.

I'm either falling or talking to the floor.

Why am I leaning?

dog's behind

Is this a yoga pose?

Notice the position of the legs--bahhaaaaah!