I did something today I haven't done in years. I fell down. I don't mean taking a knee or drifting gracefully into a sidesaddle pose on a bench. I mean flying forward, landing hard on my knees and hands, skidding to an awkward stop an inch before my face hit the propped up in-progress painting of the Dance of Shiva. It wasn't the result of anything exciting, just a conflict of interest between me and the cord of my laptop. But it made me a bit sore, and as my left arm throbbed in increasing pain for a couple hours (thus no more painting tonight), I grew pensive. I don't fall down often enough. Yes, that is a weird thing to say, but bear with me. I don't think I take enough risks, physically. I'm too cautious, for fear of injuring myself. So when I do something like this, my body is so startled, a little face plant is a big deal. I think I need to toughen myself up. Get more active, and get a little rougher in my choice of sports. For that matter, choose actual sports over solitary labor for my exercise. What sports are a good fit for a slow-running middle aged woman?
While I painted last night, I tried to watch A Hard Days Night for the first time ever. I have loved the Beatles' music since I was in middle school, and spent hours discovering their entire catalog, but this movie was just too much for me. I don't know what happened to film in the 1960s and early 1970s, but it seemed to be a badge of honor for your movie to be entirely disjointed and hard to follow. It was like a long string of black and white non sequiturs. At one point in the film, the Fab Four went out and played like children on recess in the middle of a green field. They ran around, burning off energy and releasing tension. When did that become discouraged? Kids don't have a fraction of the free recess we had, and most of the exercise we adults get now is regimented, in Cross Fit or Zumba or some other controlled class. Do we even remember how to bounce around like excited little atoms in a microwave? I never thought I would miss the chaos, but I do.
Before I knew what I wanted to write about, I took a couple pictures outside. I don't know when my bell peppers went from freshly-pollinated flowers to handful-sized veggies, but it seems like it happened in an instant. Everything else is still taking its time. No sign of ripening on the tomatoes yet, and my watermelons are smaller than a single green pea. I'm so afraid of pests making off with them like they did last year. At least this year, I have taken steps to protect against blossom end rot. Nothing to be done about the little Angry Ewok who wanted to be packed into the Father's Day package to that man she only met once.
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