Sunday, March 27, 2011
For the last several weeks I've been deliberately upping my protein intake (thanks SWEETIKINS, for the tip) by making Greek style omelettes most mornings for breakfast: a mixture of Naturegg Omega 3 and Simply Egg Whites with low fat feta cheese, Greek seasoning, spinach and hot hot salsa on the side, just to keep things "fusion". Love them -- and I use my folding microwave omelette pan, which makes it all happen fast.
But this morning I was thinking about Professor G, for whom I worked as a young philosophy student; he was close to blind, and needed someone to read his student papers aloud to him for purposes of grading.
I was hired. It was a great job and taught me more about philosophy than any course I ever took: I wrote on his comments (and he was patiently prepared to engage in discussion with me if I had the temerity to disagree!!).
These sessions took place at the university in his office -- with meal breaks for "pizza pie" or "hamburger sandwiches": really, that's what he called them!!
Or, more often, at his home on the weekends. Where he had a beguiling Scottish terrier puppy. And a harpsichord and a clavichord, which he played -- inviting me to play too.
And where he regularly prepared for me incredibly strong coffee in a French plunge coffee maker (that's what started my coffee addiction) with glorious French pastries from a local bakery. Or whipped up sweet dessert style omelettes when more substantial sustenance was required, moving deftly around his kitchen.
What kindness, what sophisticated hospitality to extend to an impoverished young student supporting herself through school! Did I mention he also paid me generously for these services? Amazing!! I'd have been more than happy to do it for food or for nothing at all, and I'm sure that he knew that. (I remembered Professor G during my own teaching years and tried to extend comparable kindness to a number of my own students . . . a far more important lesson even than whatever I'd learned from those asymmetrical philosophy debates! Which he tactfully pretended were occurring between equals).
So this Sunday morning, with extra time on my hands, I decided to experiment with a Professor G-style sweet souffle omelette: chocolate and raspberry.
And then input it into the Spark recipe calculator -- if you eat it all yourself (I did offer to share a bite with DH . . . just one . . . and it wasn't to his taste, too bad so sad) then it's 216 calories and 16 gm of protein per serving. And . . . so so delicious. Mmmmmmmm!!
I believe it would work in a regular omelette pan if you can't find the folding microwave type -- but how easy it is in the microwave. Here's the link:
If you try it, I hope you like it -- some harpsichord music in the background would really help capture the appropriate ambiance!!
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Sing it out loud
You should be proud!
And *blushes* yes, I am.
OK, my body is by no means perfect. It's almost 60, after all. And a decade ago, was some 85 pounds heavier. It's borne two babies. Endured serious illness, and a number of surgeries.
So of course it has some wrinkles, and it has some stretchy saggy stuff.
I'm enjoying living in my body.
I'm enjoying moving my body.
I'm enjoying dressing my body.
Some of you will know e.e. cummings' great poem, "i like my body . . ." : it's somewhat erotic, so I won't copy and paste it here.
If you'd like to read it, here's the link:
But -- erotic situations aside -- it's good to be in this space. This body. Feeling strong, lean, fluid and flexible.
We sometimes think of ourselves as "ghosts in the machine" -- spiritual or intellectual or emotional entities inside a shell. Truth is, the quality of our spiritual experience, our intellectual prowess, our emotional intensity: all of these are inextricably intertwined with the physical embodiment that moves us -- moves us literally and moves us metaphorically.
Am I an intellectual type? Yup, card carrying and fully credentialed: there is no denying it.
But (and just as important): I like my body. I like being a body.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
. . . and my goodness, how I cherish such days after a time of "crisis"!
My workout felt good: I'm using the 8 km podrunner downloads on the elliptical trainer since running is not working for my knees, and the music keeps me moving efficiently.
I enjoyed my lower body ST routine afterwards, and a little stretch, and a little chatting with my gym buddies, and my post-workout treat: German chocolate cake coffee (no calories).
Followed by my Greek omellette, newspaper, Charlie time, light box on a very cold but sunny morning.
I've got a steady day ahead but no pressing disasters (that I know about yet!!).
Now: what to wear to work?? Hmmmm. Pale yellow wool jacket to inject a note of spring into the day despite the temperature: and olive green pleated skirt, green and yellow silk scarf. OK.
The pleasure and deep comfort of the quotidian:
The trivial round, the common task,
Will furnish all we ought to ask;
Room to deny ourselves, a road
To bring us daily nearer God.
OK, maybe not QUITE as Calvinist as that -- but yeah. Ordinary. Good.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
There it was, chirruping loudly in the birch out front of my office when I pulled into the parking lot yesterday.
Clearly a web-savvy robin.
And (ahem) perhaps a tiny bit plump: so maybe a member of SparkPeople?
I'm thinking he had been reading yesterday's blog, and was waiting for me!!
Chirrup chirrup chirrup chirrup!!
And thank you, Maha, for this totally marvellous site!!)
Then off for his cardio . . . flapping vigorously!!
Monday, March 21, 2011
I hear them. I just haven't seen one yet.
It's a cold morning, with semi-solid rain pouring down from a grey sky: and I've got my light-box on!
The north wind shall blow
And we shall have snow
And what will the robin do then, poor thing?
He'll sit in a barn
And keep himself warm
And hide his head
Under his wing, poor thing
And hide his head
Under his wing.
The persistence of poems and songs from early childhood: my days were filled with them.
We'll be putting out some robin fruits (chopped orange, berries) since the bird seed doesn't appeal to them, and it's waaaay too cold for worms!!
We had a rather eventful Sunday, with the office flood alarm going off repeatedly, sump pump overwhelmed, water pouring into the basement: it turned out that there was a broken water main in the boulevard in front of the building which was super-saturating the ground.
Nothing serious in comparison with earthquake/tsunami/nuclear melt-down. Nothing serious. Remarkably pleasant plumber turning out to help with temporary fix for the sump pump, remarkably pleasant municipal employee digging temporary trench out front to divert the worse of it; permanent repairs (for both) to occur today; nothing damaged in our basement.
And of course all of this sogginess is much appreciated by the robins!!
Which reminds me of:
Robin in the rain,
Such a saucy fellow.
Robin in the rain,
Mind your socks of yellow.
Running through the garden
With his nimble feet,
Digging in the garden
With his long strong beak.
Robin in the rain,
You don't mind the weather.
Showers only make you gay.
But I bet the worms are wishing
You would stay at home.
Robin on a rainy day
(Don't get your feet wet)
Robin on a rainy day!
I'm thinking that these robins may need their snow boots, actually!!
Get An Email Alert Each Time WATERMELLEN Posts