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Desultory Blues

Today in my head:

–  I consider bad luck, like passing my freeway exit or traveling an hour and a half for an event only to realize I missed the date by a week, karmic retribution for something I did wrong.  Then I rack my brain for what I did and who I might have hurt.

–  I slept in by 1/2 an hour today because yesterday was long and I was already dreading today’s “boot camp on the home front” run and work-out.

–  Figured I could take my time getting started, as I had the whole day ahead of me.  Made coffee & checked out my favorite web sites.

–  Reluctantly dressed to exercise.  Did yoga, stretched & did push-ups, sit-ups, leg-lifts, etc., indoors, all the while considering not running today.  Debated over & over again between cutting myself some slack & the knowledge that there is no slack in boot camp & I would feel guilty the rest of the day if I cheated.

–  My neighbors were outside talking & I got it in my head that I did not want to go outside & start my run in front of them.  I wished they would hurry up & go in before I lost my nerve.

–  Come on!  Go home (neighbors!) so I can run!  Get in your houses!  I don’t know why I would care – just a silly excuse not to run, I guess.  My neighbors are in their ’70’s & are from Italy.  I listened to them speaking in Italian out there on the sidewalk for nearly an hour while I agonized over my run.  They would think running for exercise is a symbol of a frivolous existence.  If I did ‘real’ work for a living, like till the soil, farm the land, chop wood, make bread from scratch, sew clothes, hand-wash laundry, etc., I wouldn’t have time to exercise nor would I need to.

–  I mill about the house.  I wander into the bathroom.  Now I hear my other neighbor & her 6 year-old daughter in their backyard.  Oh, God, please don’t make me have to start a run in front of them.  She is a successful single mother with a big house & a red BMW in her garage.  She is taller than me & regularly hops onto her bike, fully suited up, like Lance Armstrong, & probably cycles to Ohio & back.  And when she’s not on her bike, she is jogging with her 3-wheeled stroller out in front of her – probably for 6 mile runs on weekdays and 13 miles on Saturdays.  Other times I see her pull out of her garage with her one-man kayak on the roof-rack & she’s off to row the rivers.  Please don’t let me have to leave the house to run a mile and a half in front of her!

–  Finally the neighbors, all of them, disappear & I throw myself out the front door onto the pavement and I cannot look back.  Just do it.  Ha.

–  I meditate, concentrate while I run.  I think of Mycol, I think of strength.  I try to focus my mind on what I will accomplish today.  I am interested in daily progress.  Will I write?  Will I paint?  Will I garden?  Will I do it all?  What are my priorities?  What will satisfy me most of all?

–  Three quarters of the way and I am so over it.  I think I may stop running & start walking.  I envision Jim on his run this morning out at his place.  I envision Mycol running this morning under the watchful eye of his company commander.  I envision my company from 20 years ago, running in formation an all sides of me.  I challenge myself to make it to the stop sign ahead, then I can walk.

–  I run to the stop sign & past it.  I run the entire way & don’t stop until the end, at which point I am proud of myself for pushing &  I cool down with a walk around the block.

–  In the shower I contemplate what zodiac sign has the most competitive nature.  I am a Capricorn.  While I am on the zodiac, I also consider that jealousy is a fatal toxin for a relationship & that Scorpios are such jealous creatures.  (Not you, Mom.)

–  Even though I pushed through a work-out & it is a beautiful day outside, I feel sad & disinterested in any of the day’s possibilities.  Solitude has become depressing whereas I used to relish it.  I miss my son.  Jim calls & I start to cry when he says, “Don’t worry, you’ll hear from him soon.”

–  I decide a power nap could lift my spirits.

–  My bedroom is on the first floor of my house.  It is western-facing, with a window on the west wall.  I love to take a midday nap anywhere from 30 to 70 minutes long, depending on how I feel, and any time between 1 and 4 pm.  So often in the summertime, on a sunny day, I lie down to nap, & before I drift to sleep I am transported to another familiar place.  Something about the quiet against the background sounds of car wheels on pavement, birdsong amongst the trees or transmitting from a telephone wire perch, the occasional door opening or closing & sometimes a lawn mower, takes me to the second story of my grandparents’ house.  Something about the air, soft & comfortable as a linen sheet, & the sunlight diffused to shade, that sets me to recalling moments spent, perhaps napping as a child, in the big, floral bedroom of Nonna & Tata’s house.  I have a clear memory of the view from the bathroom window, a strong recollection of the smell of the bedrooms; the small one, the floral one, & Nonna’s dark and holy bedroom.  I experienced the nostalgia once & considered it coincidence, but now it is nearly regular, all things being equal, & it seems an atmospheric footprint, fossilized in my memory.  I can practically recall every fine detail; one of my favorites being the red-topped water sprinkling bottle on Nonna’s ironing board, forever ready for use, it it’s open position, between the dresser & her bed.  Anyway….

–  I have a new phone, but since I didn’t take the tutorial on how to use it, it rings when I had thought I’d set it to ‘alarm only’ & my nap is interrupted.

–  I think a smart phone would do what I verbally tell it to do.  This phone is not as smart as I want it to be.

–  There is nothing in the mailbox yet.

–  Tomorrow is another day.


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I hate the words dago, wop, guido, etc.  People in this country toss these words around quite casually and so I wasn’t always aware of how hurtful or degrading they can be.  When I was 8 or 9, the neighbor’s daughter walked past our house and called me a dago bitch.  I asked my mother what that meant.  Now I am an adult and realize the irony of the situation.  Our neighbor’s daughter was a female dog of Italian descent.  But there is a difference between being Italian and being of Italian descent.  And if you use words like dago and wop, you aren’t Italian.

Zia brought over some homemade prosciutto the other day and I like to pair it up with fresh pineapple.   It’s even better than with cantaloupe.

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Concrete Jungle…

Hey everyone! We’ve had some great news around here lately and I’ve been too busy to get much writing done.  I’ll be sure and pound something out on the keyboard when Yim and I get back . . .

from New York City!

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The Duchess is hung, darlings.  I must apologize.  The Crossword is still absolutely as blank as when it rolled off the presses and may not get done until tomorrow.  Oh, who am I kidding, as tired as I am, I won’t be able to sleep until I’ve at least given it the once over with pen in hand.  Also, tomorrow’s post will not publish at 1:09 am or 9:09 am like it usually does.  I am just running late.

Thank you, LP, for inviting me to your lovely bridal shower luncheon yesterday afternoon and your wild bachelorette party last night.  A good time was had by all.  This explains the delay, I believe.

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The Time Is Now

When you don’t really know someone you can always talk about the weather to break the ice, so here goes. Although it is July, and traditionally we are hit with the three H’s – Hazy, Hot, & Humid – the weather has been great. Since it’s late in the day I won’t keep looking for the line I want from Thomas Wolfe‘s Look Homeward, Angel to post here, but someone please remind me and someday I will. In the meantime, just to get a start on this thing, I’ll say that the weather has been perfect for baseball.

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