Don’t watch the Ironman if you have PMS.
Or any other time of the month. It will make you cry.
Not the stories of the triatheletes who train year after year, but the stories of the regular people who are searching for something big. Like the guy I saw profiled today. He’s 34, a little younger than me, and has ALS (Lou Gerig’s disease). I marvel at people like him who are so driven. Slowly his body is stopping and someday very soon he will be dead from the disease. To know what is going to happen to your physical body must be hard to handle. Control-freak me wouldn’t handle it well. Maybe that’s why I get so emotional.
I don’t watch that home makeover show either, because every time I have watched it I become a blubbering ball of tears. It’s kind of funny, actually.
It’s not the heat…
I finally go outside today after the heat wave. I blame the media for hyping it all up.
Don’t go outside, it’s blistering!
On Friday, everyone in my office had such a long face. Cabin fever had set in.
It’s summer, in Washington, DC for cripes sakes.
Yes, reminding people not to leave their dogs and kids unattended in the car is important. But constantly reminding us all how HOT it is just makes it worse.
I fell under the spell, too. I was climbing the walls.
This morning I walked to the farm stand at the Sheridan School in NW. They (New Morning Farm I think) have such beautiful stuff. I didn’t go crazy because I have my weekly share of vegetables and flowers from my CSA. I did add to my pile of potatoes, though. I couldn’t resist the purple ones! And the gorgeous heirloom tomatoes. And the corn on the cob.
I roasted some garlic today and spread it on bread. There is nothing like fresh-picked garlic. Try it if you ever have the chance. It has a mild, smooth flavor that permeates but doesn’t over power. I have tons of it now, after getting some every week for the past month. The farmer suggested peeling it, putting in a jar, covering it with olive oil and storing in the fridge.