Bloating Down The Stream

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, dogs and cats, big news: Irish Gumbo is expanding.

Is it a web portal of my own?  Is it the burgeoning of a publishing empire?  Is it the long awaited launch to fulfill my dream of owning a company that corners the market on t-shirts with snarky or ironic or just plain odd slogans and fake advertisements?

Sadly, no.  What is expanding...is mah belleh.

I have noticed more than once in the past two weeks, that some of my shirts and some of my pants are now bit more taut than usual when I put them on.  One of the shirts, a sort of shiny wine-colored number that I've been wearing for a few years, now gaps out at the buttonhole closest to my waist when I sit.  This perturbs me.

I am fortunate to have a metabolism and body type that, while not exactly svelte, I have not had to fight to keep from becoming too heavy for my own good.  In general my health has been pretty good considering that I do not get enough proper exercise* to stay toned up and fit.  So in general, I've managed to squeak by on the maintenance side of things.

But, now?  Perhaps I need to reconsider.  Exercise will have to brought on board.  Diet and nutrition will have to be improved**.  I will have to find a way to tame the cravings for le cuisine junque to go away, as my appetite for the salty-chippy-cheesy snacks has been fierce lately, and I think it is beginning to take its toll.  Also (and this could be really tough) I need to cut back on my indulgence in sandwiches of the Italian cold-cut variety.  I loves me a hoagie, no doubt.

I have also been possessed of an increased appetite in recent weeks, something I don't have a good explanation for at the moment.  I feel most days like I may not be eating enough, as my trade deficit with the company snack box would seem to indicate.  I need to get a handle on this soon, though, or there will definitely be handles on me...love handles.

And I'm not convinced anyone wants to see that on the Gumbo!

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*Unless you count running around the office like my hair was on fire.
**Try as I might, I cannot figure out a way to get Doritos and potato chips to be defined as 'pasta or grain'.  Damnit.

Sou(l)p

This week was, in a psychic sense, a long one.  How the same amount of hours could last longer than the equivalent hours of last week, I'll never know.  Frankly, I am too tired to care.

The physical demands of my daily bread-winning activities are not great.  The mental demands are somewhat more strenuous, and maybe that is why I have been so sluggish this past week.  I left work this Friday at quittin' time, dithering over dinner, and watching the sun go down in a spray of white gold.  Hunger, physical hunger, was not an attention getter.  In an odd turn for me, I didn't feel like eating.

Yeah, I know.  Shocking, yes?

Truth is I was exhausted, facing an empty fridge and having no energy and patience to get to the grocery store.  I toyed with the idea of stopping at a favorite Italian eatery, but even the prospect of some tasty leftovers for the next days' lunch couldn't budge me from the trenches of my ennui.  Since I couldn't decide to decide, I pointed my car in the direction of home and switched on the autopilot.

Arriving at the Crib de la Gumbo, I still had little interest in eating.  To assuage the mental programming that says "Eat because it is dinnertime, and we always eat at dinnertime, appetite or no", I undertook a quick scan of the pantry.  There I discovered a can of tomato soup wearing a crown in the form of a smaller can of green chiles.  As I contemplated this turn of events, I recalled that I had a pepper grinder newly filled with fresh black peppercorns, and a small chunk of feta cheese in the refrigerator.  It dawned on me that with the addition of a small amount of the herb mix I keep in the spice cabinet, these humble ingredients could very well be the solution to my Weary Belly Blues.

Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting at the dining table, luxuriating in the humble contentedness of hot tomato-chile soup with herbs, black pepper and cheese.  I was tired and still not terribly hungry...but I was eating.  Simply eating.  All I needed to do was lift the spoon and put it into my mouth.

Sometimes hunger begets appetite, and sometimes it works in reverse.  The bite of the tomato and chile, the salty creaminess of the feta, and the mild heat of the pepper set all right with the world.  For that precious interval, all I was, all I needed to be, all that I am:  everything was on center, and it was good.

Tidbits From The Gumbo Pot

Another day of rest, supposedly, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to ease off the pedal and partake of some randomization. About time, I suppose. There seems to be a rash of that on this marvelous Interwebs of ours. So, let’s randomize, shall we?

ASIAN CHEESE
I have oftened wondered why, given the vast size of Asia and the existence of so many different types of cattle there, that cheese never gained the prominence in Asian cuisines that it has in European (and by extension, American) cuisines. I know that fermented bean curd could be seen as an ‘analog’ of cheese, but I have to believe that someone somewhere in say, China, must have noticed the phenomenon of curdled milk on its way to becoming cheese. Somehow the “meme” for cheese-making never took off in Asia the same way it did elsewhere. I have heard cheese described as “milk so rotten it turned solid”, which could explain it.

SOME FLUTTER IS GOOD
Through the wise and all-seeing direction of Vodka Mom, I had my wandering attention span directed to the blog of the lovely Flutter. She has some very interesting things on her mind, and some amazing photographs that you should see. As an added bonus, she recently posted a video for the song ‘Typical’ that reminded me to purchase the new album from one of my new favorite bands, Mutemath*. The song works on a number of different levels, the simplest of which is, it is a damn good tune. So herewith, for you audio/visual pleasure, MUTEMATH:

IN MY MIND, I’M A FREAKIN’ DECATHLETE!
Exercise. I know I should be getting it. But I just don’t. There is an elliptical trainer in my basement, which I used to use every single day during the week, and walking for exercise on the weekends, but something happened and I fell out of the habit. The weather here has been cold, windy and gray a lot, which doesn’t help with the outdoor activity. I likes my walks around the lake and the fresh air. The trainer is good, but boring. Maybe if I tied some wolves to the back of it that would give more incentive to work fast. Great cardio, I suspect. For now, I’ll content myself with exercise in the form watching my daughter run around in circles in the house. That’s a full time job in itself. Quite vigorous, too. My eyeballs are BUFF!

TAGGED: IT AIN”T JUST GRAFFITI ANYMORE
Well, it finally happened. I got tagged. The luscious Teri at Cold Lemonade (and a tall drink she is, mmm...) ambushed me with the “25 Random Things About Me” meme. Ordinarily, I have been avoiding tagging because I don’t want to make a busy schedule even busier for me or someone else, but in this case I made an exception.**

25 Things Floating In The Gumbo Pot:
1) My first name, Kevin, is derived from a Celtic language, and supposedly means “the beautiful offspring” or “pleasant, comely” or “noble, kind and friendly man”.
2) I love music, can’t carry a tune in a bucket.
3) At various times in my life, I have wanted to be a rock star, a monk and a research chemist with a concentration in brewing/fermentation.
4) A good song can make me cry from joy, sorrow or nostalgia.
5) The first dog I can remember having was a beagle named ‘Lucy’.
6) Somedays, all I want out of life is a bologna sandwich and a beer.
7) Speaking of sandwiches, my Mom makes the best grilled peanut butter sandwich in the Universe. I still miss those sandwiches. All hail the Moms!
8) I began blogging on October 5th, 2008, and have been fortunate to have not missed a single day of posting.
9) I used to have, and wear, a pair of black denim pants festooned with zippers all over, including the knees. I bought them in England.
10) I do not recommend sliding across the dance floor while wearing pants with zippers on the knees. It hurts. A lot.
11) I used to have a blond streak in my hair, on the right. I did it on purpose.
12) I once pierced my own ear with a short pin. After I finished bleeding and screaming, I installed a small gold cross earring.
13) Three weeks later, I had to take the cross out because league rules forbid playing soccer while wearing piercings or certain kinds of jewelry. That sucked.
14) Clip on ties used to be a part of my wardrobe. I am shamed.
15) My favorite malt beverage of the beer type is Guinness Stout draft, no contest.
16) Some days my eyes look blue, some days they greenish or grayish. I have not verified if that corresponds to moods.
17) Most people who know me would say I am moody.
18) The ‘Moody Blues’ would not show up on my list of favorite bands.
19) If I could form my own band, it would probably play some kind of Celtic funk-rock. Bagpipes would be involved, and possibly tubas.
20) I find tubas to be funny. Trumpets, not so much.
21) I used to be able to play the opening chords to Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water” on guitar AND harmonica.
22) I wanted to be an architect starting in 7th grade, because I wanted to draw houses for a living. I was very naive.
23) Writing is what I really want to do, I just didn’t know until now.
24) The amount of things I know is miniscule compared to the amount of things I don’t know. This vexes me greatly.
25) Soccer (“footie”) is my favorite sport, hands down. I am still an American.

So there you have it, 25 random things about the mystery that is me. I’ll forgo the tagging of others. Just for shits and giggles, though, scroll through my blog roll and randomly pick some to visit, drop some comment love.

I think that about does it. Happy Sunday morning to all, I’m going to watch some cartoons with my Wee Lass, and see if I can rustle up a bologna sandwich.

*And a special thanks to my friend Wesley S. for layin’ the band on me in the first place. Dude, that dvd RAWKS!

**I admit that in this case, it did give me the opportunity to add to my post, ‘cause I’m tired and feeling a bit shagged out. But also, Teri is a force of nature, in a good way. And don’t mess with Mother Nature! I am terrible at following rules, though.