Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Critical Potato

Nod is 49 today, seven squared, one annual cycle away from what has been until now, the unthinkable 50s. He's melancholy as is his tradition on his birthday. Or rather he's usually furious at the passage of time/proximity to death, so melancholy is a more civilized version of the usual pattern. He has ordered a party for Saturday night and we'll have a bonfire if it's not too windy. The kids and I gave him cards this morning and we'll all go out to eat tonight in tribute to his venerableness.

I had back spasms in my mid back a couple of weeks ago. They subsided without intervention although I did call the dr.'s office to ask about the possibility of a physical therapy referral. While speaking with the nurse I realized it had been about ten years since I hurt my back picking up toddler Kat. I remember lying on the wooden floor upstairs in our NH St. house and waiting for the pain to recede. The physical therapy back then mostly involved things to strengthen my abs. And it's time again. I planked Monday and will plank tonight. I intend to make it a four times a week thing.

I just read a recipe called "Broccoli Cheddar Tots" and was deeply disappointed to find that it contained no potato. Those ingredients, broccoli/cheddar/potato, are a powerful taste trinity. I wonder if I can rejigger the recipe to include the spud... schemeschemescheme

Going to bed last night I realized that I was feeling both peevish and unworthy. The unworthy feeling and tendency to doom I recognized as an unrealistic reaction to current events. I bumped up against it a few times but remembered each time to discount it. The peevishness seemed perfectly justified until examined. This morning I notice that I am driving peevish and need to stop that shit. End of cycle hormones, I detect some!


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