Another beautiful day. Ari and I celebrated our morning off together by hauling 10 bags of alleged asbestos floor tile to the hazardous waste dumping ground 10 miles south of town. It was a very unloved place, this landfill. Not that I would expect any landfill to be truly loved. But this one was particularly unloved. The dirt of the mound where we dumped the bags of tile was a funny color. Not dark brown like most Texas soil, and not blond like sand. It was a pale, paltry color. It was like jaundiced ash. Very creepy. I hope I never have to go back.

I think I’m finally coming out of my stew. At least I’ve been a bit more cheerful lately. Colors are brighter, too. (The green hills out near Creedmore on the way to the landfill were strikingly splendid.) The static buzzing from the depths of my gastrointestinal tract hasn’t subsided but I’m not much worried anymore. I’m sure I would have gotten a call by now from a nurse pretending to care if it was something more complicated than routine. It’s amazing how greatly food affects us. You’d think that all you really need to do is eat and that whatever your body can’t use it disposes of and whatever it can use gets absorbed into the system. Sounds easy enough. But then there are the food allergies and intolerances and general careless behavior that play into it. Too much saturated fat over a period of many years can hurt you. Believe me, I know.

I have been eating much better over the last year, though. It helps that I make most of my own food, everything from the main courses to the sauces and dressings. I’ve contemplated vegetarianism but I just couldn’t give up chicken. And even if I did, there’s the fish. There is absolutely no way I would give up both. In my quest for healthier eating, I’ve learned that frying is not the only way to prepare food. (As an aside, I saw a five gallon tub of lard at the grocery store a while back. Just out of curiosity I scanned over the nutrition information. 43% saturated fat in one tablespoon. 43%! That would put me in the hospital! Who buys five gallon tubs of lard anyway?) Lately, I’ve been baking and broiling and using frugal amounts of olive oil. My bronzed catfish is delicious, even if it’s not as good as the one at Threadgill’s.

I mentioned my love of cooking to a co-worker the other day and he snickered at me. “Yo wife don’t cook you meals?” I didn’t quite know how to respond to that other than, “No.” I qualified it by saying that Ari makes fantastic meals and that the reason I cook is simply because I like to cook. I truly enjoy the process of making dinner. Somehow I don’t think it added up for him, as if a man shouldn’t cook. Days after that conversation I decided I should have told him that while he starves because he’s stubbornly waiting for his wife to get his meal ready (how very 1950’s of him, huh?), I’ll be sitting back with a belly full of my own delicious goodness and enjoying fine conversation with my wife and son.

I’m stopping myself before this tangent reaches Mars. Across the street from the library, a magnificent Mountain Laurel is caught in the light of the sunset. Its purple blooms are radiant. I’m going to go gaze at it hypnotically now before the droves of exasperated students cramming for finals arrive at the library. Five bucks says at least one student has a 10 page paper due tomorrow. Another five bucks says the paper hasn’t even been started yet. Sound familiar to anyone? If so, you are my worst nightmare.

Peace, love, happiness, infinity. (Okay, I stole that from a T-shirt for Karma Cafe up in Denton, Texas. Sometimes T-shirt wisdom is right.) –M.