The One October Day

Every year there comes a day in October when you know both Summer and Indian Summer have said there goodbyes.  Today was that day for the mid-Atlantic U.S.

Daybreak revealed layered clouds driven hurriedly across the sky, their tattered edges falling away like strings of cotton candy settling into the treetops.

The air was heavy with  mist that muffled sound and left beading droplets on every surface, an endless moisture too light to be called rain yet too prevailing to leave automobile windshield wipers at rest.

Throughout the day temperatures slipped lower in barely measurable increments, but enough that for the commute home I was glad for the heat circulating in the car.

Even dinner planning was affected by the slate sky and permeating damp. Options such as hearty soup, chili, and  dumplings all held appeal.

Yes, it's time to bundle up, hunker down, batten the hatches, and lay in firewood. The summer of '17 now joins memories of other summers past.

It's Only Yoga

For years my exercise routine consisted of free weights and band resistance machines. Then the warranty on my skeletal system ran out and the message triggered by a set of x-rays was... no more lifting - anything.

I now needed to stretch my spine rather than adding to the load my spine had to carry. The physical therapist set me up with a series of exercises so basic that I didn't see how they could be classified as exercises at all (at least not after hefting barbells and dumbbells). Certainly I needed something more challenging if I was going to make progress.

So I signed up for yoga.

Now I was smart enough to know I wasn't going to immediately do handstands while one foot pointed to the sky and the other touched the small of my back. I accepted there would be a learning curve. I started with beginner yoga as a warm up.

I warmed up all right!  At the thirty minute mark both my t-shirt and towel were thoroughly soaked. The mat beneath my hands and knees sported beads of water like a well waxed car following a spring shower.

The instructor had just led us into something called a half-crescent pose while quietly - and calmly- urging us to hold the position and feel the stretch. The only thing I felt was my chest heaving as I gasped for breath. That is until my legs starting shaking and I collapsed into an exhausted ball.

How had this happened?  I mean - come on - it was only yoga after all.

Have's and Have Not's

Three months ago I organized my Tupperware cabinet.  I had a stack of round 1 cup containers, a stack or rectangular sandwich containers, a stack of rectangular snack containers, 2 deep rectangular containers capable of holding a quart, and 3 rectangular containers that could hold up to two quarts.

For each stack of containers there was a corresponding stack of lids. Some lids snapped on and some lids screwed on. There were equal numbers of containers and lids. I know. I counted each one. I threw away anything that didn't have a mate.

Today it took me four tries to find a lid to match a rectangular sandwich container.  I was irked. I investigated. I found that two-thirds of my sandwich containers don't have matching lids.  Which mean two-thirds of my lids don't have matching containers. 

I didn't check the other ratios because there are more pressing concerns.

Who the hell has been in my house, and why were they in my Tupperware cabinet? You might think this is the topmost concern but, no, even more important is....

Why did persons unknown redistribute their Tupperware inventory, leaving some of theirs and taking some of mine?  Are they selling the stuff they took from me on the black market? Are there certain Tupperware pieces in high demand? Did they leave behind the stuff nobody wants?  I know I don't want it - it doesn't match anything I own.

I'd like to know because if this is a thriving business I want to procure the appropriate pieces. Then I'm going to buy a raincoat with very large pockets. So equipped I will stake out a busy intersection in town.  Psst, hey buddy, wan'na buy some Tupperware?