Jean and I never really argue, nor do we fight, but we both let the other know how we feel about what is or isn’t going on. Yesterday Jean said, for at least the hundredth time (and I’m not exaggerating), “We ought to get the screens on the windows and the slider doors. It’s so nice out and we need to warm up that basement”.
As you know by my rantings and ravings, Jean is very visual. She can’tÂ picture things in her mind so if you’re trying to describe something to her it’s like talking Spanish to an Eskimo.Â When she looks outside and sees the sun shining she says things like “It really looks warm out there”.
Knowing this, and knowing I had no chance of winning any argument, I went by paragraph 81 on page 63 of the husband’s playbook, and argued anyway. I told her that it was 53 degrees outside and 63 degrees inside. I know the sun was shining, and if you stepped out on the deck it was warm, but if you open windows, 53 degree air is going to go into a 63 degree house and there was no chance it would warm it up.
So when she said “But it’s warmer on the deck than it is in the house”, I tried to explain that the deck was on the side of the house that was sheltered from the wind and tried to explain the science of radiant heat off the vinyl siding. Once I said radiant heat I could see her mind shut down. To her it sounded like a Mr. Wizard show from the fifties and she would rather watch The Adventures of Spin and Marty on the Mickey Mouse Club.
Immediately she threw in the “fresh air” card. I explained that fresh air is nice, but if it’s 5 degrees outside, fresh air is too fresh. That didn’t work either.Â I know she really believes that 53 degree fresh air is better than 63 degree stale air. Luckily Judy walked in and the conversation ended.
The runners came this morning and ran from our condo. There was enough food to feed fifty people. Now we have to figure out how to hide the leftovers from me so I don’t stuff myself all week. I made beer soup, a recipe I got out of a brewing book. There are three bottles of Irish Red #5 in it, but the alcohol all evaporates out of it. It does have a base beer flavor, and I’m not sure whether it’s the malt, hops or yeast, but it is quite good. I’ll make it again and tweak the recipe a little until I’m satisfied that it’s the best I can make (at least to me).
This last week was the Tour de Pennock. It’s five days of riding a spinning bike (or in my case, my Trek on a fluid trainer) two hours each day while watching parts ofÂ the Tour de France. My rear end got a little sore by Wednesday, but things got better Thursday and Friday. After we finished Friday evening there was a pot luck. Again, there was enough food to feed any army. There’s always lots of pasta and other carbs to replace the ones you’ve burned up. My problem is that I don’t stop there and I pick at the leftovers for days.
I vow each week to restrict my caloric intake and lose a few pounds by triathlon season. As with all diets, my vow lasts about a day and I’m back in the same old rut. With no will power and genetics against me, I’m fighting a losing battle.
Just (Slap Me If I’m Eating A Cookie) Jack
b/t/w If you drive by the condo you’ll notice that the screens are on all the windows and the slider doors.