Twinkie

The exciting sound of rain transforming and renewing the dried out earth. I lay in bed and listened to this latest visit from the clouds, so much more interesting to me than channel surfing the television waves. I just had to get up to go see at first light what it might look like with everything soaked good and wet. The rain so far this year has been wimpy. I don’t know if the weather gods are only practicing, or perhaps they have forgotten how to make it rain hard here in California. Last year was pretty darned dry, a drought. The year before was plenty wet. The changing of the seasons and the variation between the years gives me a child-like sense of magic.

Yesterday I swam my customary 750 yards in the local pool near the railroad tracks on 41st Street. The surface of the water was not pin-pricked with dimpled drips, as I managed to get in and out and do my laps between cloud bursts. I rather enjoy swimming in the rain, as long as the pool water is not too cold. There is something about being in water when water is falling on water that is just delightful. To me it is sort of like walking through a garden in the springtime. The plain glossy surface becomes delicately ruffled in such a way that the pool almost seems to have a life about it, a miniature stormy sea into which I may safely plunge.

My arms and fingers feel a little tight and sore from tamping asphalt the other day. I put in a lot of downward force to pack the asphalt tight and now I feel some of that coming back at me. I had hoped the swimming laps would loosen and free me. I have been eating a whole-food, plant-based diet for a year and have lost the need for ibuprofen (what I used to call Vitamin I), but yesterday I was tempted to pop a few. I’m sure that in another day my muscles will feel normal once again. The diet change has given me new energy and greater resistance to pain and stress. I hardly miss the four main ingredients of my old eating scheme: fat, oil, salt, and sugar (FOSS), which were making me feel like a fossil.

I see that Hostess Twinkies are no longer being made. I can’t remember when I last ate my last one. The news people gave much tribute to the event yesterday. I think it was because they have been making their appearance on grocery store shelves across the country since the 1930s, so it seems like a bit of death for the old American culture. I wonder how the product survived so many years? I have no idea what was in them, but I recall them being spongy and filled with a sugary cream. I suppose it’s too late to run to the store and buy one.

I need more coffee this morning. I’m not completely awake. I did not give up coffee when I changed my diet, but I did cut way back. I usually have only a cup a day, when a year ago I would have six or eight. Maybe the sound of the rain, which I am not accustomed to hearing, has gotten me out of bed too early. My body got up and began moving around quickly, while my spirit was still sleeping.

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