Unintentional Companions

Perhaps the truth depends on a walk.....

   ~Wallace Stevens

I lost my heart for many things when Mama died in October, chief among them my joy in  walking. I suppose a counselor would have a field day with that: the last time I heard her voice was when I called her to tell her that I had just finished my second half-marathon. 

Reasons turned into excuses, as they often do though, and the hard work I had begun in 2003 to get my health and my girth under control began to slip away.  I made a couple false re-starts with manufactured enthusiasm, and even now I can't say I've got my groove back.

But I am getting back to the park now at least a few times a week. I'm walking these days with no purpose (save getting back in some of my summer clothes) -- no thought of how fast or how far, just walking until I decide I don't want to walk any longer, listening to whatever music finds its way from my iPhone to my ears.

The picture up there was taken from the parking lot of Vaughn Road Park, just before a good, long walk this past Wednesday afternoon. That church is where I had cast my vote the day before, the one whose outcome left me incredulous, and more than a bit dismayed. (My disclaimer: I am a moderate conservative, which basically means I have nowhere to go most of the time, politically speaking.)

But this isn't a post about politics. This is a post about community.

The park was full of folks that day, and I enjoyed watching families out enjoying a beautiful late afternoon, and passing elderly couples strolling on the path (the only people I CAN outpace anymore!).  

As I was nearing the end of an hour, my legs were growing tired, and as I approached the final rise on the track I began to match pace and walk side-by-side with a young African-American man, dread-locked,wearing those godawful low slung pants, having a conversation into seeming air via a Bluetooth device).  I could not get past him - he was at a stroll, but his stride was long and these short legs just didn't have the gas left in them to speed up.  


It's odd how uncomfortable I feel walking side-by-side like this with someone I don't know, but I think it's probably a universal feeling. I have no doubt that as strange as I felt, he must have felt the same, and yet neither of us could or would do anything to escape the situation. And so we walked, side by side.  He finished his conversation, and we continued to walk -- together -- and after several minutes he began to break off to step into the park itself and he said, "I enjoyed the walk. You take care, and be blessed."


There are lots of things that do and will forever separate that young man and me, but for that parcel of time we were unintentional companions,  walking together.


It's what we need to remember when we are divided by political issues, and race, and religion, and education, and socioeconomic class: we only have here. We only have now. Whether we like it or not, we are walking this time together. 


Enjoy the walk. Take care. Be blessed.

What I'm Loving Wednesday - Making New Memories

When I was a little girl my Grandpappy would take us to Ligers Bakery in the Normandale shopping center just to get a gingerbread man.  I can't honestly say whether we did this 5 times or 5,000, but the memory is etched on my heart regardless.

Yesterday afternoon Rosemary and her Mama came over to spend some time, and just on an impulse we decided to go to Ligers, which is no longer in Normandale but which is ridiculously close to my house for me to admit I don't go there very often.

As much as I wanted to get her a gingerbread man, the cake pops they had in the display were just adorable. I selected two slices of cherry pie for the grown-up dessert (to be divided into 4 servings), and they and a strawberry cake pop came home with us, in Ligers' traditional white paper bag.

We had a really nice supper, and then it was time for dessert. I think it is safe to say that as far as Rosemary is concerned, Ligers' Cake Pops were a hit.

We will do this again. Maybe even 5,000 times.

A Tale of Two Lunches

I enjoy fresh food, freshly prepared, as much as the next person. I'd really enjoy it every day for lunch if there were someone here to prepare it for me. No matter how hard I search my house when I get home for my lunch hour, though, there no one ever seems to be here offering me a plate of something they just whipped up.

So, I go for quick and easy. I heat a can of soup, reheat leftovers when available, slap some tuna and a pickle between a couple slices of bread -- that sort of thing. But when the grocery store runs a big special on frozen meals I happen to like (as part of a balanced diet, of course) I go armed with good coupons and really stock up. 

My Dad seems to actually like some frozen dinners, and I will confess that when I am on night detail with him they can be a real help. He eats well earlier than I ever do, so preparing a real meal for the two of us can be problematic.

When I fix one of these for him I plate it and add a little something else to balance things out nutritionally: a bit of fruit, some extra vegetables. I began to notice something after doing this for all these weeks: there was more food in those single serve meals than it seems. Until a few days ago when I would zap a frozen meal I'd just eat it out of the little plastic tray. None too elegant, and quite often I just didn't feel like I had eaten. 

So this week, using my fine china (which is now my everyday china because life is too short to save the good stuff for some other time) I have begun taking stuff like this: 

.... and putting it on something like this.

Well, you get my point. 

What's in Photo #1 one looks like a frozen meal bought on sale with a coupon, but what is in Photo #2 looks at least a little more as if someone went to the trouble to fix lunch for me.  I found I took my time eating it, and when I was done it felt more like a meal than a mad food dash. I've heard it said that we eat with our eyes first, and there is no doubt that the difference in perception between those two views, at least in terms of quantity of food, explains why I felt more fed haven plated and supplemented the dish with a little (gasp!) bagged salad. (I know my foodie friends and family are squirming. You are on your own to deal with it.)

Another new habit for 2012?  Most definitely!