Chill

I almost lived up to the Mancuso challenge to observe September 11th entirely without mass media. The exception was my Sunday New York Times, the reading of which is about as close as I come to a religious observance these days.

technolope and capital_l came down last night, and we went to the Garden Grill, our local vegetarian restaurant. After that, we wandered around WaterFire and came back to chill. It was nearly midnight by the time they got here, so they made use of the Futon, and we took a pleasant morning walk to observe the birds and fish in the bay before they went back to Boston.

In “industrious around the house” news, I installed a pegboard in the garage, and have been relocating tools there from wherever I find them stashed (under the bed? kitchen drawers?). Also preparing a batch of watermelon pickles. A rare delicacy. Page 206 in the Farm Journal Freezing and Canning Cookbook. Said cookbook is the single needed reference for one who wishes to can, preserve, and pickle just about anything. Seriously. It’s all in there.

Watermelon pickles are sweet: The syrup is 3 cups vinegar, 2 cups water, 10 cups sugar, and some spices. You pickle the rind of the watermelon, after removing (and eating, if you’re me) the flesh, and also removing the peel. If you think you’re a badass with a kitchen knife, try peeling a watermelon.

redmed is studying for class and looking very serious. I should be similarly serious about this talk I’m scheduled to give on Tuesday, as well as about the fact that the contractors are showing up tomorrow morning to install “helical piers” which will serve as the new foundation for our master bathroom. Yes indeedy, the work may actually be accomplished by the time the pipes are scheduled to freeze again. Still no wager on that, though. They’re only scheduled to show up.

A guy I sometimes work with who runs marathons advised me, when I complained that I run out of things to think about while running, advised me to instead not think. To simply run. I tried this today, and it’s harder than it sounds. The first stage was me thinking “not thinking, not thinking” over and over again, in time with my feet. After that, it was sort of a fixed outward awareness…identifying birds, plants, counting things … still very deliberate. On the entire run, there was a tiny tiny moment when I realized that I had simply been running without thinking. I shall have to try this again.