This post is not about food. At all. I always feel guilty when I don’t write about food, but I do occasionally engage in activities other than cooking and eating or thinking about cooking and eating or reading or writing about…well, you get it. For example:
- I read. Lots. First I inhaled Middlesex because it was a fantastic novel, and because I had promised to lend it to a friend who was waiting with (audibly) bated breath. I turned next to my niece’s copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which I had to read with equal haste because she needed it back to lend to one of her friends. (My family may cause the downfall of all legitimate retail book outlets). Halfway through, I realized that I was missing lots of references to characters and events. During a quick visit to amazon.com, I discovered that I had completely missed the 6th book, despite having read numbers 1-5. I have now set aside Deathly Hallows, bookmark stuck sadly in mid-book, and have to read Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince before proceeding. Such a thing would never have happened in the days before my family and work life interfered so severely with my reading life.
- It turns out that I am not just old and lazy; I am actually hypothyroid. In the process of having every medical test known to mankind in the past two weeks (only to find out that I am basically quite healthy), a blood test indicated that my thyroid is out of whack. I previously knew nothing about thyroids, other than that they are glands shaped like bow ties that regulate hormones. Apparently, my need to take a nap every afternoon, the stunning amount of hair falling out of my head and my overall dragginess are due to the inactivity of my thyroid gland and NOT to the fact that I am old and lazy and eat too many crackers. All I have to do, apparently, is take a little pill every day and be restored to vigor (and a full head of hair) in the fullness of time. Who knew?
- It will never, ever be fall. Ever. It is still in the high 70s, and although I wait with my sweatshirts, cider, squash recipes and leaf-collecting apparatus, there is no fall. I want to make casseroles. I want to go to the cider mill where they sell fresh, hot squash donuts with cinnamon and sugar on them. I want a corn maze. I want to be chilly in the evening. I want to bundle up for football games. It is supposed to be in the 70s all next week, too, and next week is OCTOBER, which is fall. I worry that I contributed to this situation by using aerosol hairspray and deodorant in high school and if I did, I am very, very sorry.