I Got Nothing

When I sat down to write this post I realized that I really didn’t have an idea for this post. Not that I had one and forgot which I’ve done and have written about. Not that I had a bad idea for a post which I’ve probably had more times than not but wrote about anyway. Not that I had an idea but had written about several times already and even I knew that one more time wasn’t going to be a good idea. No, when I say I really didn’t have an idea, I really didn’t have an idea.

It’s been a decent enough week. I’ve felt well so I used some of that energy and did some shopping. Most of the time a good shopping trip will end up with fodder for a good blog post and sometimes just the act of shopping ends up blogworthy (which I’ve also already written about fairly recently). This week’s shopping was pretty much that. I went shopping. Bought a couple of shirts, some kitchen stuff, a canister of that newfangled spray on sun-screen. But it was all fairly normal. No weird sales signs, no clueless sales clerks, no inappropriately dressed fellow customers. Well, there was that one lady in the bathing suit with a cover-up masquerading as clothes. How could I tell there was a bathing suit under what outwardly appeared to be a cover-up? Maybe the dripping water that trailed her like an ill-trained puppy. But since I’ve done more than a couple of posts on fashion rules for the real world I couldn’t see putting yet another together at the expense of the nonfashionista and her screaming need for attention.

Since the last post I’ve spent a lot of time at the pool. I’ve switched from morning walk to morning swim at least on non-dialysis days for my exercise. In fact, it’s worked out quite well for me. Last summer, actually last summer, last fall, last spring, the summer before last, and so on and so one and etc. I’ve spent most of my exercise energy on walking. Also covered in several posts. But since I’ve started on dialysis I’ve been slacking on the sidewalk shuffle. If you’ve never had dialysis I’ll add in my prayers tonight that you never have to have dialysis for one of the things they don’t tell you when they stress that you’ll only spend 7% of your week on the machine is that you spend about 40% of your week recovering from that time. Walking just a mile or two the morning after dialysis isn’t just out of the question, it’s not even a question. Period. But swimming seems to be a different animal. I’ll swim a lap or two then climb out of the pool and rest in a comfy lounge chair under the morning sun. After a few minutes rest (ok, after about 20 minutes rest), it’s back in for some water calisthenics. More rest, more laps. More rest, some wading. I get exercise and a killer tan without having to stop for a rest when I’m a quarter mile from the nearest park bench. But hardly blogworthy.

And we’ve had Father’s Day. It’s the rare holiday that goes by without a mention of it by me. I’ve even invented my own holidays just to get a post idea. Maybe not invented but certainly given more weight to National Name Tag Day than even its proponents did. But everybody knows about Father’s Day. Not much I could add to it. I could talk about my gifts but they wouldn’t hold your interest as much as mine. I could talk about dinner and the fabulous glaze we came up with for the grilled salmon but then when the cook book comes would you still buy it? Or I could talk about how we narrowly escaped the severe weather than muscled its way into the festivities just as the grill was cooling. But how many weather posts can one blog present?

No, I just have to own up to up. I got nothing. So if you were expecting to find something here to pique your interest, go to the search page and plug in your desired topic. Chances are you’ll get something back. Till then, I’ll try to work on something more substantial for Thursday.

Have a great week!

 

You Are What You Eat

I am an omnivore. I don’t say that with any particular reason other than as a preface to this post. I will eat just about anything you put in front of me. Anything traditionally considered food. I’m not ready for nor desirous of a guest role on Fear Factor, I don’t want to eat anything that would be featured on any of cable TV’s various weird food shows, and I do not test my manliness by eating peppers hot enough to substitute as rocket fuel when pureed to a diesel like consistency. But I will at least try just about any meat, vegetable, seafood, or dairy product – umm, except liver. And sometimes all in the same dish – think pizza with pepperoni, sausage, onion, mushroom, peppers, anchovies, and 2 or 3 cheeses. Add a beer and you have the basic food groups covered in full.

The thing about people like me who have somewhat indiscriminate pallets is that when it comes time to eat we just eat. I bring this up because the other day I realized I had prepared a fish for dinner for almost an entire week. I go through binges every now and then (see “Soup’s On”, May 14, 2015 and “It’s Taco Thursday,” August 6, 10215), but a fish binge got me dangerously close to declaring myself a pescatarian. The thing is I like fish. I could do that. And that’s scary.

I thought about this. Salmon alone could cover a week’s dinners. Salmon in mustard sauce, salmon salad, grilled jerked salmon, salmon and Thai chilies, salmon burgers, blackened salmon, and the classic cedar plank salmon. Those are just the preparations I’ve done. There are probably 3 or 4 million others. Add to that the few thousand other fish recipes, seafood pastas, sandwiches and tacos, and sushi rolls and there are enough fish dishes to not double up for an average life span.

It could be done. But would I really want to do it. I don’t know. A lifetime without bacon? No leftover turkey from Thanksgiving dinner? No hotdog to go with baseball and apple pie? A picnic without cold fried chicken? Nope. It sounds tempting, and very healthy, but there are just too many good things in the world to eat not to at least try them all. Variety may not be the spice of life but it certainly makes a respectable entrée.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?