Anyone remember Paul Simon’s “Rene and Georgette Magritte with Their Dog After the War”? Now that man can WRITE a song, and that’s the truth. Magritte is my youngest daughter’s middle name.  Her first name is Dana. Magritte means “my little girl”, which is what she will always be, even now that she has her own little girl, whose broken wing, incidentally, is healing nicely. No surgery. Children are so much more resilient that we old ones, don’t you know? But, “after the war”, indeed. Is there actually such a place? Such a time? I do mourn for the state of humanity sometimes. Oftentimes, actually. Then, of course, being the emotional - and I suppose, basically happy - creature that I am, something or somebody comes along with an idea or thought or pleasantry that cheers me up considerably. The decades really DO glide by - like native Americans? LOL. All this political correctness. Every native American I know (and I know a few) calls him/herself an “Indian”. Probably not even with a capital “i”. One thing people sure do enjoy in this world is their differences. We are all, to some degree or other, proud of the culture that raised us, and to varying degrees, distrustful of all those that didn’t. Instead of feeling pride in our own accomplishments, much of humanity finds it less challenging to simply rest on the laurels, so to speak, of their ancestry, their culture, their country…we are all, when it comes right down to it, tribal by nature. Protective of our borders. Don’t want too many of “THOSE people” coming in and taking us over - taking our jobs, taking our homes and taking over our neighborhoods. Nope - I’m not going to engage in a diatribe about immigration here, but the older I get, the more absurd all of this seems. Maybe I’m just evolving to a more global outlook in preparation for my incipient “graduation” to the next level of existence, but these things do trouble me. I can’t deny that. Our need to acquire more than we need in life, and then fight - and make laws - so that we can keep it all, and by golly, acquire some more if we can! I will never forget being stuck in traffic just outside of Miami a few years back - stuck beneath a highway overpass - there was a stretch limo in front of us, and one in back of us. One, as well, to either side of us. We were literally boxed in by wealth and affluence, and about three feet from the traffic, on the side of the road on a dusty piece of dirt, were at least twenty homeless folks living in cardboard cartons. I don’t imagine that whoever was behind the tinted glass windows of those limos even noticed what they were sitting next to. Never even noticed that three feet away from them were people - human beings like themselves - with noplace to live while they, no doubt had trouble deciding WHICH residence they wanted to stay in THIS month. These people - these oil comany executives, these huge government contractors, these wheelers and dealers (or sons and daughters, grandsons and granddaughters of wheelers and dealers) glide by and through life - not like Indians, no - but like great luxury boats on a sea of tiny rowboats, not caring how many of those little boats get capsized in their wake. Hah! Ever the social commentator, eh? You can take the youth and passion out of the woman, but you can’t take the woman out of the mindset. People today envision America, the land of the free (etc., etc.) enduring forever. To most, it’s incomprehensible that the country could fail, and yet history documents many great civilizations that endured far longer than we have been in existence - and are now no more than overgrown ruins. George Bush hasn’t single-handedly brought us to ruin, but he has certainly hastened the process, and that’s a fact. I somewhat guardedly share Anniegirl’s enthusiasm over Obama’s win, but I do fear that we’ve deteriorated farther than he - or anyone else - can fix.

BUT, having released all of my doom and gloom for the moment, let me relate some GOOD news for a change. :-)  DH’s doctor declared him to be pre-diabetic about three months ago, and sent him to a nutritionist and advised him to lose twenty pounds. He immediately started eating exclusively what I eat (for example: when we used to have baked sweet potatoes, he would slather his with real butter - and lots of it, while I sprayed mine with a butter-flavored olive oil-based spray.) He switched to the spray, started dressing his salads with just lemon juice instead of the Bleu Cheese dressing that he used to love, and cut way back on red meat (I hardly cook red meat anymore) just to name a few changes. And, of course, you know that he and I have made a commitment to exercise and walking as much as we possibly can. So, he had a new set of lab tests done a week ago, and had an appointment with his doctor on Tuesday of this week. The lab results were all LOW/normal, and he’s lost seventeen pounds to boot! I mean, how amazing is that? (Plus, feathers, we have incorporated a lot of the Gabriel Method into our lifestyle - including the occasional sprint during our walks and the visualization stuff. So, thanks for the referral!) He came home absolutely delighted with the progress, thanking me for the way I cook for him, and thrilled that he doesn’t have diabetes looming over his head anymore. Really excellent, yes?

And I, of course, continue to plug along, dropping only ounces at a time, and mourning my inability to fit into those old shorts of mine. I feel sad that I’ve allowed myself to get to where I feel “good” about getting into a size 12. There was a time, long, looong ago in a place very much like this place and a time very much like this time, when I thought size 10’s were “large”. Hah! If I’d only known then what I know now, I would’ve enjoyed myself way more, and that’s the truth. Anyway, that’s the introduction that DH uses when he tells stories to the kids - “There was a time, long, looong ago…etc., etc. I always love it when he starts one of his stories. The kids sit around him in a circle with rapt expressions on their faces, hanging on every word… neat, you know?

So, gray and wet in these here parts today, but predictions are for a haute weekend. (I just LOVE haute weekends!) I plan to do some more planting. I bought a gorgeous pot the other day - huge; at least 2 feet high, and with a beautiful design etched into the clay and then glazed unevenly so that it’s rough and old looking. I have just the plant for it, and just the place for it out in my garden. AND we shall do some walking, and perhaps a cook-out if the kids feel like it. Maybe we’ll throw something for ourselves on the grille if they’re going to be busy.

Another hour here at work (and my little self-imposed mental-health break is over; I gotta get back at it) and then home again, home again, jiggety jig. Yay, huh?

Love,

Z