Obesity is a condition which
proves that the Lord does not help those who help themselves and help
themselves and help themselves.
My muse is on vacation, considering writing a novel. At least she was, until she e-mailed the first line to a friend and the friend wrote back that she almost deleted it as spam. That’s great. I’m writing a novel that sounds as though it has an ad for Viagra or an adjustable rate mortgage embedded in it.
I have no idea what’s going on in my neck of the woods. I’m back in that space where I feel as though I’m overwhelmingly busy wasting my life away. I went to a live performance of Prairie Home Companion and listened to Garrison Keillor sing a song about sperm for Father’s Day. The cicadas were so loud I couldn’t really make out anything but the word "sperm" and it was so hot I did that thing where you remove your bra through the sleeve of your shirt and I slipped it into my purse without anyone noticing. That was better until it was time to stand up and leave; then I felt conspicuously underdressed.
So, at the risk of incurring the wrath of my remaining 3 readers, I’ll go on record as saying that Garrison Keillor fans are predominantly obese hippie farmers. Swear to Pete, most of them were bursting at the seams of denim shorts, plaid short sleeve shirts and sporting gray pony tails. They looked as though the rapture was upon them as he rambled on (and on and on) about tossing hay bales as a youth. Very strange. He had Andriana Chuchman from Lyric Opera singing "Una Voce Poco Fa" and that made it worth the price of admission and 94 degrees in the shade and cicada husks everywhere.
What else? We had friends come visit from Ann Arbor. The zoo is hopping and not just with the new red kangaroos. We biked down to league volleyball on the beach and had to cut through the zoo. There were at least 30 movie set moving vans, trailers, wardrobe trucks, and so forth. I think this is more of the movie with Morgan Freeman and Angelina Jolie and they were using Cafe Brauer for a scene. I’m not sure, but if you hit the link and check out the photos then maybe a year from now you’ll be in the theatre and go, "Oh! right! that’s at the Lincoln Park Zoo!"
Rich is the senior member of the company beach volleyball team. He was cute and sort of lame in his giant knee brace amidst hundreds of babes in spandex. The Chicago Sports and Social Club has over 20,000 people playing on 1200 teams every night of the week down on Lake Michigan. He wears the brace because he separated his knee playing volleyball 20 years ago but he looked like he was having fun falling down in the sand.
I watched him play and sat on the pier reading Zen Mind, Beginner Mind in preparation for book group. I’ll achieve Zen mind three lifetimes from now. The closest I come to a Zen state is when I’m cooking and I did that all day yesterday because I was hosting said group. Here in Chicago it’s a women’s group, not a women’s club like BCMA. I made gazpacho, pesto and bread from scratch, Caesar salad and a cold blue crab salad in lime chipotle mayonnaise. Bellinis to drink and fresh berries with pecan shortbread for dessert. I enjoy cooking and get lost in the process. Satori comes after two hours of food preparation and beverage sampling.
Back to the problem of obesity in America. I am not obese; I have an eight pound fibroid and as soon as I get it removed I’ll be svelte again. And achieve Zen mind. Between now and then I need, I must get back into regular yoga. Walking and biking about is not doing the trick because I spend more time
taste-testing cooking these days. Also, I’ve been distracted from my own fitness regimen because I’m concerned about helping McCloud with his weight issue. I was listening to a program on fat cats and the veterinarian said that 4 pounds of overweight in a cat is like 45 pounds of overweight in a person. I think that means McCloud is at least 100# overweight. Look at him! Keep in mind that he is taking up an entire sofa section in the photo. His paw measures three inches across. He may be too big to gain entrance to Friday’s Ark. It’s possible he, too, is having hormone issues- he has started carrying around balls of wool while yowling. It used to be one or two a week and now he’s escalated to six or seven skeins of wool each day. He seems to prefer Noro Iro, 75% wool and 25% silk in 120 meter hanks- the size of small rabbits.
Lest this post be devoid of all substance I have a very fine video link for you. Parts of the Midwest are currently under siege and I decided I needed to know a bit more about this 17 year phenomena so here you go: Cicadas. I’ve been looking closely at them these past few days and although I haven’t seen any with the blue-eyed mutation, they’re still pretty cool, in a buggy sort of way. Oh. I think the title of my novel is going to be Life At the Surface.