Hello to y'all and to 2020. Today's subject line refers to the
Great Sardine and Maple Leaf Drop, a fine collaboration between Canada and the United States mentioned in a public radio roundup of Things Dropped yesterday.
I didn't kiss anything at midnight, truth be told. I was asleep, plus the Beautiful Young Man came home from Minnesota with a cold. I had a great time at the gym yesterday once I got myself there: although I woke up in time for the first class I'd intended to hit, I didn't get myself to the Y until the second class was already underway (and still managed to forget my shirt -- but, for a change, I wasn't the only woman dancing in just her bra, and it beats the time I had to improvise a skirt out of my cardigan because I'd left my shorts at the office). It felt good knowing some of the routines well enough to really get down, and the instructor (who gave birth just three weeks ago, and looks fan-freaking-tastic) high-fived me after I bounced up from a floor twerk. (And here you thought "get down" was merely a turn of phrase. ;) )
I had half the gym to myself for a good ten minutes after class, and a hoop to myself for twenty minutes beyond that. I'm terrible at
el baloncesto -- especially when I try to shoot left-handed, which I worked on for a while yesterday -- but it's still fun even when I'm bricking 19 shots out of 20. I like the sound and feel of the ball hitting the floor and landing in my hands. (The opening poem in
my book is "Practicing Jump Shots with William Shakespeare." The girl may not get to the court often, but it's definitely part of her (hi)story.)
Speaking of past publications, one might think that someone
with a poem about thinning seedlings would have zero hesitation about culling Christmas pepper sprouts from an overcrowded pot. One would be wrong. It's a wonder that anything ever gets done around here.
The red raincoat I wore for that author photo (taken on the same trip as the photo in today's icon, if you're reading this on Dreamwidth) is one I purchased from a bookshop in New Orleans's Faubourg Marigny neighborhood umpteen years ago, possibly during a holiday visit. With green/blue streaks in my hair since 2010, I haven't worn that coat much (until this week, the last time may have been last year's
Santa paddle), so I had put it in the "donate" pile earlier this fall. But then
Jane Fonda's red coat showed up in my feed, and then Louisville was picked for the Music City Bowl, for which I had tickets (thanks to MCB's sponsorship of the
Dragon Boat Festival and to my donors, whose generosity added up to my being the top fundraiser on my team).
Y'all. I haven't worn so much Cardinal red in forever (earrings, scarf, lipstick -- the works). The seats were fantastic -- behind the endzone, four rows back, aisle. The BYM was decidedly uninterested, so my date was another mouthy Southern gal who brought over a bottle of Huling Station Very Small Batch bourbon. For appetizers, I opened the Zingerman's pimento cheese friends had sent, and also the jar of garlic I had pickled last month. I fried maifun noodles with cabbage, mushrooms, and carrots for the main course (my friend was fascinated with the resemblance of the sesame oil bottle to Mrs. Butterworth's), and for dessert we had red bean mochi.
It's a good thing we did the pre-game thing, because the adult beverage options at Nissan Stadium are ... limited. My friend bought a Miller Lite for me during one of her trips to concessions, and all I can say is, why squander 96 calories on something with little flavor and zero buzz. My friend is not a fan of JD and that was the only bourbon on offer. But my hot cocoa hit the spot, and the bbq nachos were OK, and more important, we had fun taking in the whole scene. Two friends from high school with whom I'm still in touch are Louisville grads, and some of my favorite dance partners live there now, so I definitely had a preference, but not enough to feel distraught when Louisville's defense wasn't gelling during the first quarter. The crowd around us was mixed -- some hyped-up State and Cards fans, but also a row of local bros behind us who were just rooting for their bets (at least $500 on overs), so their cheering was wholly dependent on who was about to score. My friend and I agreed that they managed to stay on the right side of hilarious vs. obnoxious, but they were definitely on the line. State's cheerleaders were more on point uniform-wise than U of L's (the short-shorts and Minnie-Mouse-ish bows did not work); U of L's band (especially the announcer) had the more polished half-time presentation; State's flag runs were more impressive; Cards fans were louder (and not just because the Cards got their game going second quarter). Louisville's angry bird mascot is aesthetically more appealing than State's jowly dawg, although my friend spotted the real pup during one of her walks around.
In short: bad football, good time.
I'd prepped some bourbon balls for the party we ended up skipping yesterday because the BYM was snuffling (and even if he hadn't been, I had fallen asleep in the bathtub during my afternoon soak, so I changed right into pjs and my Grouse Grind t-shirt instead of going-out clothes). I'd like to curb some of my tendency to over-prep this next year, but it isn't a resolution because there are plenty of situations on the other end of the seesaw where I would do well to level up my prep. The issue is about calibrating the amount of prep to the expected ROI, and the mix includes acknowledging that I over-research things like hotel options because that's another-potato-chip quick and easy vs. really digging into an aria or a not-yet-finished poem because that's never quick
or easy.
Anyhow, the BYM and I split a 2016 bottle of
TRBLMKR during the evening, and I went to bed after a couple of Spanish lessons and a few chapters on sea kayaking. The plan for this morning had been to hit the gym for three hours (i.e., two classes, with a reading or rowing break between) but my shoulder is doing its occasional freezing-up thing, so instead I fried pancakes, eggs, and bacon, and I'm going to repot some plants now (including the very cramped aloe vera plant I picked up from Downtown Pres, which the BYM suggested sticking an octopus head on because its fronds looked to him like tentacles...). I could also just open a
Yazoo Cinnamon Milk Stout or
Blackstone Dark Matter IPA and then take an extended nap in the hammock. I do like this actually having the holiday off.
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