Thursday, July 5, 2012

Consider the string pulled

I want to amend what I wrote yesterday. I've given it more thought and I realize, yes, I would have benefited from getting some form of structured exercise or activity when I was a kid, beyond the weird gymnastics program quasi daycare I attended after school. But, I did get exercise like most kids--organically.

When I was a kid, and I see kids today exhibiting the same behavior, I never noticed when I was tired or cold or inconvenienced. Well, I was very inconvenienced when my brother ate that special piece of cake I left in the fridge as a special treat for myself--god I still resent that--but that's different.

"Can I interest you in a nice cup of port?"
I would put a sweater on because my mom told me to put a sweater on or I would come out of the water--face dry, thank you very much--because it was getting dark out. Sure, I remember shivering and getting goose bumps, but that never stopped me from doing stuff around the neighborhood, climbing trees with my friend Gina and fantasizing about the city apartment we would have or swimming as far as I could with my friend Jenny. Now, I only feel that reckless abandon after a few too many cocktails, and it generally manifests itself as hedge diving in Newport during the boat show (hi Julie) or kayaking in the fog in the "too late to be out and too early to be up" hours to drink even more cocktails on an island before getting yelled at by the neighbors (hi guys).

I guess the trick is to do interesting physical things. A moonlight kayak with a group of pals, good. A jog/walk around a park with a friend, great. An hour on a treadmill with Headline News blasting in my face, bad. I don't want to focus on my body getting exercise. I want to know I got some exercise.

After saying all that, I have to confess I am still feeling under the weather. I did mow the lawn today, but I lasted only an hour before I had to stop abruptly and come inside to cool down, sit down, pull myself together. Maybe it's hormones (sorry to bring that up, fellas).

Hold on, there can't possibly be any fellas reading this, unless you're a fella reading this over your wife's shoulder or you're a fella who is married to me and wants to make sure I don't say anything untoward (hi Groom).

I came inside, dripping in sweat and all tomato redfaced and gulped back some water while holding a cold paper towel to my neck. I even made Groom check my pulse. Either I was having a panic attack or a stroke. Or I have Lyme. I'm pretty sure I have Lyme.

I put one of the Adirondack chairs in the shade, shooed away some of the poor Lost Boys ("he is never married") from the disturbed and destroyed wasp nest that used to be in our kitchen--"move along Keifer, nobody cares Coreys"--and watched a bunch of dragonflies eat all the mosquitoes in the yard. After about 20 minutes, my heart rate was back to normal and right now I feel fricking great. No, seriously. I feel better than I have for a couple of days. Note to self: Get the fuck out there and do something physical every single day, fatass. You'll be better for it.

Tonight, I think a light meal is in order. I'm heading to Shaw's to pick up some groceries (I know, shame on me), but my accidental vacation this week means I won't be sending out any invoices next week, which means, I'm won't be getting paid. So, I have to go with what's more affordable. I tried to convince myself that somehow I would be supporting the lovely David Shaw, founder of IDEXX and husband to the amazing Glenn Close, by shopping at Shaw's, but I looked it up. I don't think they are any relation. Shaw's does have its roots in Portland,'s not local.

percy's policy
Groom and I did swing by a little farmstand up the road to pick up a few vegetables. I was tired and cranky after lunch at Percy's, which is the best place ever. As I was walking through the parking lot, a woman said to me, "We have a lobster bake going on right now on the beach! Lobsters, steamers, corn on the cob for only $20! Come over!" When I explained that Groom and I had already ordered lunch, she insisted I buy a package "to enjoy for dinner." When I told her she should take a job in marketing, she exclaimed, "I'm getting my degree in marketing right now!"

This is the same place where, as I was waiting for an ice cream with my friend Erica a few summers ago, we were stopped in line by a large woman in overalls who asked us what our favorite nut is. "Mine is the walnut," she stated. "Ya got your peanuts and your pecans and cashews, but for my money, it's the walnut." And then she was gone.

This stuff does not happen at Subway. Or, at least not at the Subway in Bath. At most, you get shoved around by a bunch of angry youth and hope the clerk didn't put a booger in your BMT. I have no idea what BMT stands for, which is why I always remember that sandwich.

Huh. Clever marketing, that.

After Percy's, I was grumpy and tired and I didn't want to stop at the farmstand, but Groom insisted. And boy am I glad he did. They had these neat vegetables called "Kohlrabi," that you're supposed to boil and mash like cabbage, or as the guy selling them stated, "Just shred them over a salad. That's what I do."

if you wanna make the world a better place
This guy is the very reason I will go back there. He sat behind a table with a scale and a calculator with MJ blasting on his portable radio.  I'm looking at the man in the Mirror.... all the while, trying to convince Groom in the most authentic Downeast accent to buy a bunch of flowers for "the wife" because "it might get you a reward later."

Nothing that happened today would have happened if I weren't making a concerted effort to eat locally and get some form of activity into my day.

This is a long post. Sorry. I'm waiting for some clothes to dry before heading to the supermarket.  I guess that makes me chatty.


  1. did I mention that it is very good port?

  2. Oh, you're renting from Fritz? Tell him we say hello!