Yesterday, Him Indoors and I spent the entire day in the basement unpacking boxes that haven’t been opened since we left Austin nearly ten years ago. Such memories…such a LOT OF STUFF! Including a garden trowel that came with me from England, a parting gift from the Sainted and Holy, Beloved of Memory, Ray Rix. He was the strong back to my wispy vision of a garden. Without him — it wouldn’t have happened. Full Stop.
Ray was Norfolk yeoman stock. He’d only been out of the county once, when he got on the train in Norwich, disembarked at Liverpool Street in the City of London, took a quick look around, and jumped back on the train. That was in World War Two.
Of course, Ray having never strayed from his birthplace, had a broad Norfolk accent, a soft grrr to words with an r…garrrrd’n. I had my Midwest twang intact. Sometimes we barely understood each other. It made for some interesting times — all good.
Today, as I charge out into my garden, hand-trowel in hand, I’ll be thinking of my old chum. Fossicking around in the border, laying out the soaker hose, snickering at the raised beds I made in the veg garden “Her look like graves,” Ray opined. Thanks, buddy.
And, heaven help me, I’ll be planting asparagus. Again. The third lot I’ve toiled over. Ray imparted a piece of old Norfolk wisdom the first time: “Plant ’spargus and y’rrrr shurrre t’ move.” He was right!
Mayhap we should’na unpacked those tharrrr boxes. Grrrrr.
Yesterday, while reading the WSJ over my morning cuppa, I came across an item that stopped me mid-sip. The US government agency — USDA, FDA, NOWAY, whatever, I have so completely lost track in their hall of smoke and mirrors — that Americans, one of the fattest national groups in the known universe — would be healthier and lighter of foot if we would drink water instead of sugary sodas, consume smaller portions, eat more fish (which is now given its own nutritional category instead of being lumped with hamburger and pepperoni) and choose fresh fruit and veg instead of processed food-like substances covered in melted “cheese”.
Really? How much midnite-oil-burning did it take for them to figure that one out? And haven’t we heard that song before?
And if the answer is yes, and we KNOW what is good for us, why are we not paying attention? We hate paying health insurance premiums and copays because they get more expensive every year, but could that not be in part because we get unhealthier every year? Better we should get smarter every year.
My old Mum used to say, “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” And, she might add, a pound of belly fat….
Isn’t there a Rodale book about that?