May 12, 2003

"Hot, Hot, Hot!"

''Hot, Hot, Hot'' is one of the spritely songs to the soundtrack of Bend It Like Beckham. It runs at the happy playful credit ending, in which all the characters are goofing off.

Oh, what a fun movie this is. Inevitably, it invites comparisons to Billy Elliot, another United Kingdom movie effort about a kid with an athletic skill his father doesn't approve of it. In BILB, it is mostly the MOTHER that doesn't approve. She fears no way her daughter will get a good Indian husband with all that soccer playing.

Well, if the daughter Jasbinder Bamra (Parminder Nagra) has her way, she might end up with a good IRISH husband. (Hopefully I'm not 'spoiling' the conclusion with that revelation). Anyway, it is great exuberant fun. It doesn't have the serious tone of BE, but it still gets the same message across about being true to yourself against all odds. It also adds the colorful flavor of Indian culture to it.

This movie made for part of our happy weekend activities. We also walked one round of the Smucker Park Path yesterday morning. However, in the future, we must remember to do this beneficial exercise earlier in the morning, for the weather has definitely turned. Except for one brief evening back in April, we are resisting the change, and have not yet turned the air conditioning on. We resist, even though the indoor thermometer reads 90F. But fans are blowing.

The sun is definitely beginning its fierce reign. I thought the tops of my feet were getting burned en route to the car this evening. But suddenly one of my feet began to feel pain much more intensely than the other. I looked down and saw a half dozen tiny fire ants biting me.

      
Greatly magnified above, these tiny villains are on average only 3/16th inch, (5 mm.) in size

Fierce is their sting as they bite! I wiped them off my foot, and perhaps it wasn't too late. They may not have gotten the actual job of stinging done, even though it felt like it. One site advises ''they first bite with their mandibles in order to anchor for the thrust of the sting. As soon as you feel this pinching sensation, quickly sweep the ants off before they actually sting and you can avoid most of the damage!'' I've learned that nasty pustules result if they do get their poison inside of you.

Three and a half hours later, I have no pustules, and only a small bit of reddened skin where I scratched myself. I count myself lucky.

Now it is 7:45pm, and the house is still quite hot. Soon, however, we will not be able to resist the lure of the expensive artificial cool.

 
May 13, 2003

"I Do Not Want The Oatmeal"

Julia asked me this morning ''Do you want oatmeal or an omelet?'' Every morning, it is similar. Yesterday, it was ''Do you want oatmeal or pancakes?'' A brief struggle of conscience goes through me. I should want the oatmeal. But I don't want the oatmeal. I almost NEVER want the oatmeal.

I tell myself I should want the oatmeal because I am overweight, okay, 'obese' is the not-nice word people attach to a weight of 189 lbs for a 5ft 4in female, but I don't want the oatmeal. I tell myself I am master of my beautiful body, and it could be more beautiful if I did not seek to indulge myself and ate plain things like oatmeal. But I do not want the oatmeal.

We are in a restaurant and I tell myself I should forgo the dessert. The lure of exotic tastes call me and I eat the dessert. I do not want the oatmeal.

We are in Smart And Final and I say ''Just once we will get out of here without bringing home six different kinds of sweets.'' Maybe there is a small victory, and we only bring home four different kinds of sweets. I do not want the oatmeal.

Having brought such indulgences home, I tell myself, ''Okay, I will have only ONE piece of cake.'' But, dam, that first piece tasted so good. Wouldn't a second be even better? I do not want the oatmeal.

I might be full, having eaten a large meal, but more lies on my plate. I tell myself, ''I can save the rest for later.'' But it's 'such a little bit, I'll finish it off'. I do not want the oatmeal.

I am a person of power and reason. I should be able to exercise control over my appetite. But I do not want the oatmeal.

What am I to do? I am the one in charge here. I have put hand to mouth all these years with food I should have resisted. However I am now learning my power. Can my resolve be bigger than my appetite? But I do not want the oatmeal.

What shall I do? I am the one in charge here. ''Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets.'' But I do not want the oatmeal.

'Lola', my 'inner dragon'
From Laura's wonderful cartoon A Hero Lies Within You!

 
May 15, 2003 - A

"Roots, Maybe"

My horoscope advised the following this morning:

It is a time to talk and write about home, family, roots and affairs.

Should I take this as an inspirational cue? Maybe I will touch on some of these things this morning.

A couple of hours later . . .

But I got sidetracked and spent the morning playing with the YAHOO GROUPS. Therefore this will be short today. I have discovered something amazing. I found a new link to my pages this morning. (I am ALWAYS happy to have a link.)

Yes, the 'ego' likes her feeding. But the personage that linked to me has given her ego HER OWN WEBSITE! Is that outrageous?
(Note from the future: In case the link above doesn't work, try this one.)

I'm not complaining. A link is a link. Well, I didn't follow my horoscope's advice. Except maybe, that the EGO could be seen as the very ROOT of ourselves, and thus not something to be taken lightly. It could even be liked a little. But given her own website?.

Is that just going TOO FAR?

 
May 15, 2003 - B

"Fit Of Temper"

The images I've seen this evening will not lessen their intensity in memory. Julia and I watched a documentary about volcanologists. These daring explorers undergo great risks to explore the nature of lava.

A man in a silver 'bunny suit' tests the thin skin of a lava ooze. Can he step upon it? The temperature inside that channel is some 2000 F (1000 C) intense. He rests a camera as close as he dare to a slow ooze, then pulls it away at the last minute.

The volcanologists have captured not just the slow ooze, but the massive explosions of lava as well. I am left with the distinct impression 'Mother Earth' is not always the calm, healing entity pagans like to think of Her as. This 'Lady' commands some respect at times. When the molten lava spews from her core, you better run from it if you know what's good for you.

Fortunately, those who study it are learning to predict ways in which the lava will flow, so that villagers who live near the tempermental founts can flee in time.

Hawaii, a string of islands formed entirely of volcano founts, may be conceived of by some as a romantic idyllic spot. That illusion has just been ruined for me. No thanks, Yuma Arizona doesn't look so bad. Yes, we got hot, dammed hot, but at least there are no active volcanos nearby.

Just before the show about volcanos, we saw a biography of Saddam Hussein and his two sons. Oh, the cruel things they have done in their fits of temper! It bothers me that conclusive proof of their discovery was never found in the recent war. They could turn up again, still with all their vain delusions of grandeur intact.

We fear the temper, the unpredictable rages of nature and humankind. We are a part of nature, not APART from nature. Oh, this morning I myself was in an ill temper. Still behind at work, everything annoyed me. I was NOT HAPPY. I tried to keep my seething core sealed within, but one amazingly witless customer received a rather snappish treatment. ''Yes, you have to try the coat on, before I can know how it fits you!'' How could he possibly have imagined I would know otherwise?

I can not imagine what goes on in his head. Hopefully, he could not imagine what went on in my head this morning. Privacy of thought can be our most valued treasure.

By afternoon, my molten interior had settled down, and I felt more myself. The ill temper not known to me alone, Julia also reported a rather nasty morning as well. Her mood lifted, too, in the afternoon. I remember with amusement, this morning's horoscope had a general all purpose 'cosmic conditions' warning of 'moodiness'.

'Moodiness' indeed! It is past now. I'm cool, calm and collected now. I'm feeling sweet and approachable. Dumb mortals need not fear, for now.

 
May 17, 2003 - A

"Whispered Mysteries"

In the night time hours, a mandala was being born. Element by element, it finally fused into completion by early morning. Immortal mysteries call to me, as they have called to many through out the eons.

Whispered Mysteries

 
May 17, 2003 - B

"First Steps"

I say this will be the first day of the rest of my life. I say I should not look back. I say the path is forward, and on it, I must walk.

foot bones and their joints

Even if my feet hurt, I shall walk. Were you aware the feet have joints? Each toe has two interphalangeal joints and the balls of the feet have five metatarsal phalangeal joints? And if you're heavy and have osteoarthritis, they hurt when you put the weight of your heavy body upon them.

Several gray haired people easily twenty years older than I passed Julia and I three times on the Smucker park path this morning. They passed us easily. Their bodies seemed to float by us, so easily they moved.

Were they aware of their foot joints as they flitted by? I doubt it. I remember MY days of ease. I had them. Yes, I had them, when I, too, floated. I did not know it then, that I floated.

I could say I have regrets, and I do. But I will try not to dwell on the unchangeable past. All I have is before me. ''You're never too old to learn,'' was my fortune cookie advice a couple of weeks ago.

And so I shall try to learn. Better eating habits must become second nature. All I have is before me. Force of will must be applied to focus of mind. I must bring this thing into reality. The path is forward, and on it, I will walk.

 
May 17, 2003 - C

"Roses On The Path"

Okay, the following aren't ROSES, but Jacaranda blooms. Not so much this morning, but last Sunday, these imparted a delicious fragrance to all who walked by.