Spending a quiet Thursday evening at home eating lunch leftovers for supper. I used to like to cook, but that was when I used to like to eat. I just don’t have the appetite I once had. Part of the reason may be that I’m growing older. I also think moving to a new part of the country had a helping hand in shifting my focus away from food. Schedules changed. Interests changed. Tastes changed. I go through stages when the only food that appeals to me is oatmeal and sardines, although not together. I almost always have soup for lunch during the week. Anything more than that and I start to feel sluggish. Having a full belly when one is a desk jockey is mighty uncomfortable. I rarely leave the building when I’m at work, but today I ventured out with a couple of mates for some pub grub. Even though I packed up half my order to go, the portion I did eat was enough to make me stupid for the rest of the afternoon. And yes, I did have a pint of hard cider to wash down my victuals, but that was nothing compared to the three pints of ale my very thirsty cohort knocked back. Combined with a heaping plate of meatloaf and taters, it’s little wonder he left for the day an hour and a half after we got back from lunch. I hope he’s having a quiet Thursday evening, too, so he can get to the office bright and early tomorrow to make up for lost time.
Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
recent posts
about
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Instances of red
Revealing its insistence
An impatient shade
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Lily is recuperating from surgery she had on Monday to repair a hernia in her abdomen. Her sister Waverly is also recovering from having two teeth extracted. It’s been a busy 24 hours taking care of loopy schnauzers. The challenge will be in curbing Lily’s supercharged vole hunting proclivities for the next two weeks while her incision heals. I'll get back to you on that one.
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We were cute, you have to admit. Mother’s Day is a good time to look back on where we’ve been. And it certainly goes without saying that I wouldn’t have had much to look back on if it weren’t for you, Mom. I want to thank you for being who you are and doing things the way you do them. How else would I have gathered points of reference to guide me on this ever-unfurling highway of life? You’re the one with the fondness for the open road, after all.
I’m glad to hear the desert suits you. I’m also glad you’ll be visiting places this year that play a part in your story. Billings. Kauai. Seattle. You’ll have to tell me all about your travels and the memories that came alive at each stop along the way.
May this Mother’s Day bring you happy thoughts of friends and family you’ll be seeing in the months ahead.
xxoo,
t.
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When Doris (foreground) and Theresa begin to feel their temples throb from work-a-day stress, they pull out the loaf of day old bread tucked away in a filing cabinet and head on down to the turtle pond. The aquatic habitat nestled in the center of their office campus is home to not only turtles, but fish, ducks, cranes, beavers, tadpoles and toads, and water moccasins. Convenient kibble dispensers are positioned around the railing of the pond so break-taking cubicle dwellers can pelt the marine life with the turtle version of Grape Nuts.This photo, taken by non-turtle feeding colleague, Scott, captures a warm and windy May day in North Texas.
How do you de-stress when deadlines have you bested?
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There is no denying the gulf-sized surge of irony associated with this year’s upcoming Louisiana Shrimp & Petroleum Festival. My purpose of bringing this annual celebration to your attention is to not be mean-spirited or judgmental. Rather, I’m more interested in examining the interconnectedness of all things on this planet. In my opinion, crustaceans and crude should never mix. I do understand, however, the necessity of carving out industry using the resources one has been dealt. Jobs are a necessity, but so is good stewardship of the well we dip into for survival. I don’t like oil spills any more than the commuter next to me, yet we’re both racing along in our gasoline dependent vehicles. A similar quandary to which I find my mind ensnared is the diamond trade. Mining is a brutal business on the earth and worker alike, and yet I wear the hard fought product on my finger. Over harvesting of marine life is tipping the planet’s delicate balance into chaos. That sure hasn’t stopped my ravenous consumption of seafood.
Whenever ecological disaster strikes, it’s a stinging slap upside our often-sleepy heads. What are we going to do to prevent the next oil spill? I don’t have the answers, but I do have the desire to evaluate, and change, my habits that create negative impact on people and places known and unbeknownst to me. -
roll out the sushi
though sashimi I prefer
sitting at my desk to dine
is sadly de rigueur
Semi-Daily Scribbles 