(Perforated Lines--you can't resist 'em)

(movie shoot)

(left arrow) Saturday, January 6, 2001 (right arrow)

 

11:07 p.m. Today's accompanying photo was not taken today, nor was it taken this past week. I haven't been out and about and looking for snazzy pictures in oh, so long. My camera batteries are blinking and I have to get to the market or the drugstore for more. We're low on all supplies. In fact, we've been trying to be good soldiers and use up the vast hoarded stores in the house.

Live life on the lean and mean side. Well, sort of. Leanish. Meanish.

The photo was taken during the summer, and even during the summer of '99, I think. Those were the good old days, when the shadows were hardly long at 6:30 in the afternoon and the TV show Snoops hadn't yet aired. This movie crew was just closing down for the day and we were probably wandering by on our way to dinner.

Dinner, dinner, and more dinners. The dreaded word is going to start cropping up in these pages again, and soon: diet. I've got to consider it. Worse, I've been reading an exercise book as I scan, and I'm sorely tempted. Can you believe it? One day, a rich French soup. The next day: diet and exercise.

Of course, I could learn to practice that other dreaded word: moderation. I am shockingly immoderate, horribly flagrantly excessive. I can feast and I can fast. I can't seem to ... moderate.

One of these days. But not this particular day. Not when I decide to make cranberry cinnamon scones, because I can. And yaki sobo, just for the heck of it. These spare white days of January cry out for color and flavor and I heed that cry.

However, I have been reading about some good, healthy exercise. First I read, then I consider, and then later -- I might. It's yoga, after all. I've practiced a tiny bit of yoga in my distant past, and I know it's good for the likes of me. It was, as I remember it, slow. It also forces you to say hello to parts of your body you're not usually face to face with. Your knees, for example.

But, it makes you flexible and it makes you taller and it makes you healthy. I know all this. I'm reading the testimonials. I'd be an idiot not to put down the book and stretch out on the floor. It could happen.

But not tonight. Tonight I will continue to exercise my mind with the next Philip K. Dick book -- this time it's The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch and I'm pretty happy to be in the middle of that world, our world, the world of one of our possible futures.

It may or may not be the future we all inhabit -- some scientists believe there are millions of multiple possibilities. In the near future, for example, I continue to impersonate a swaddling lumpen slug-being and hardly move a muscle, save for my oculars. Or, I take an alternate route and emerge as a wasp-waisted butterfly of lithe, delicate strength, flitting and fluttering through the kitchen on my way to the garden.

It could happen. One of them will. My choice. I've got the free willies.

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(spinning balls)

search? hello? notify? map? old? index?

Shadow Lawn Press Cheaper and Better iBachelor

yesterday Januarytomorrow?

(left dancer) all verbiage © Nancy Hayfield Birnes (right dancer)