I Feel Much Skinnier Than I Look

Lately I keep being jarred when I see myself when I'm doing something active because I feel so good, sleek and graceful, and then I catch sight of myself and I'm my same old blobby self.  Yesterday I caught sight of my head in the rearview mirror as K drove us from Gills Rock to Garrett Bay and I looked like, well I don't know what, but big, bigger than I felt, than I feel.  I have no illusions that I'm a sylph.  Never have been, not gonna be.  But I feel energetic and engaged most of the time, ready to go and do, so it's a shock to see me not slimmer.  Another pound and a half lighter than last week, true, but I'm still a lot of woman for the money.  I'm not going to quit doing stuff, not going to quit feeling great while I am, just going to quit looking at myself in reflective surfaces, that's all.  (Oh and, Skully, if you're reading this, we are going walking tomorrow at Bay Park Square since it's hot.  We've been slugs long enough.)  Not a lot to tell you since I posted so late last night.  I think I'm going to take the Kumquat here (my laptop) to the fix-it place today to see if they can't put in some more memory and rearrange the programs to better utilize the divisions I've got established.  I'm going to be adding a lot of photos next month, A LOT, and I don't need any computer glitches.  Nope, don't need that, got enough to think about.  Today's Photo A Day is "sign" so I have a sign of mid-summer for you all.  Here are the ripening tomatoes in our garden.  I picked 3 nice ones and 3 cherry tomatoes this morning.  It's a sign of how hot it's been this summer; all these tomatoes are early, very early.  We're not complaining, especially Durwood's not complaining, after all he is Tomato Boy.

July 16--Greek, Statue of a Lion.  The sun was barely up.  The sky clung to night in the west but golden pink light peeked over the horizon to the east.  Sue lay in the quiet bedroom.  She heard Grandpa up making coffee and whistling through his teeth.  What she knew was coming was the best thing about sleeping at Grandma's house.  Well, one of the best things.  She couldn't wait.  The grandfather clock downstairs in the living room played the three-quarter hour chime and Sue slid out of bed and knelt in front of the open window.  The birds were chirping.  Grandpa's favorite Jenny Wren was up singing her happiness into the dawn and Mrs. Rudolph's chickens had begun to cluck and squabble in their coop.  She hadn't missed it, had she?  No, there they went.  The first roar echoed across the little valley between the zoo and Grandma's house; soon there was a chorus.  The lions knew they were fed at eight o'clock every morning and they were eager to remind the keepers of the time.  You had to listen carefully, it wasn't a big sound, more of a rumble, but Sue loved to hear the lions sing for their breakfast just before the grandfather clock struck eight.

Finally.  I've been trying to write about that for years and nothing has satisfied me until now.  I've finally evoked the feeling I wanted, even though Mrs. Rudolph and her chickens were looong gone by the time I crouched in that window.  Hey, it's Monday, enjoy it.  Hasta la vista, babies.
--Barbara