Contemplation of a Habit

At this point of the early evening, there ain’t much left.  Like every other working woman; I’ve worked all day rushed to two medical appointments, went to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription, dropped a kid off, picked another up, wrote 750 words, made a gourmet meal and I now look forward to a walk in a bit to clear my head.  

Once I start the habit of walking, I wonder why I ever stopped.  The routine soothes as does the normal route of travel-along the shore path and through town.  For a stretch of two years, I walked everyday.  Nothing stopped me.  A little grouchy, there were days that my husband would offer to cook supper if I just went for a walk.  My hope in life is always renewed after a walk.

For weeks now, I have been thinking about going to the gym. The reality is that I am just content to walk outside.  I tend to walk the same route, starting in the same location, but taking an opposite direction each day.  The view remains the same, but from a different perspective.  The tide changes and the light varies with the weather. Boredom is never a threat.

Tonight as I walk the path that winds along the craggy shore, I will contemplate all the good that comes and proceed through the evening content and at peace.

Exercise Fun

 

     Photos courtesy of Angela Dalrymple

Although it was a weekend the alarm was set and  I was up before it went off at 5:45.  We were all off to a 5K Color Run.  Water bottles filled, bananas on board, we drove over an hour to get there. Gabrielle and I have been walking everyday.  A little over three miles? No problem.  We let our long and leggy girl run the race and come in second for woman, while the rest of us brought up the rear.  Walk, walk, walk, jog, walk, walk, walk, jog.  There was not really any rhythm or method, but whenever I felt the urge; I jogged. It was fun exercising amongst a crowd. The rain waited until the afternoon.  I'd say the day so far has been a success! My First 5K.

By Sea

As I got closer and closer, the notion that I could make it all the way home and then to the gas station in the morning without running out of gas, nearly talked me out of a stop.  I had been on the road for two and a half hours and that was just taxiing my kids from one athletic event to another. Tired; I really didn’t want to stop.

“Hey,” I heard a voice.  All my attention was on how quickly I could spend fifty bucks. I looked up from the gas meter. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.” He shifted the thin grocery bag from one hand to another and smiled.

He looked just about the same as he did in Kindergarten and First Grade when we spent every school day together just taller.  “‘Heard you’re doing well,” I began.

“Ya, ‘going to Italy this summer.  Last summer was Alaska and the summer before that was…”  

I stopped pumping.  “Jealous,” I yelled. “Still lobstering?”

“Nah, I go to school year round.  There’s no time. Can’t wait to finish school though.”

“I remember that feeling.  You get itchy. I know it well.”

We said our goodbyes and both drove away in opposite directions.  I wonder if he too was remembering how much fun we had reading and writing together?  School still had that brand new feeling.  Now he travels the world and continues to learn. How lucky to be young and a world traveler by sea.

Culinary Delights

I am a risk taker in at least one arena-food.  My father was a meat and potatoes kind of man, but my mother had a stomach of her own. When given the chance, she was ready to try anything. The daughter of a chef attends to the presentation as well as the quality and flavor.  My great aunt was the first person I know to use seasonal, fresh local ingredients in her cooking.  Living in downtown Portland, she was a regular at all the farmers’ markets.

When my husband and I went to Israel more than a decade ago, we were anxious to try local cuisine.  We found the yogurt to be rich and delicious, the pizza had a special mix of spices and were carried out folded in quarters and put in a shopping bag.  The shaved lamb was tender and seasoned to perfection.  We also had falafel from a vendor on Mount Carmel.  When we got home to the United States, I roamed the ethnic section of the grocery store and bought a box of falafel mix.  It stayed in the cupboard and was never used.

Now, I tend to make things from scratch whenever I can.  So tonight, using the Epicurious application, I made falafel and everyone loved it.  My home does not have the ambience of Mount Carmel and the transformative powers that the trip brought to our marriage, but our supper came pretty close to being a perfect blend of textures and tastes.  I must thank my mother and my auntie because I will try just about anything, at least once.