By Father Tony
Odd to feel so calm and centered. The inclination to irony and urbanity evaporated. Sleep is deepened. I form words on the keyboard with greater accuracy.
I ran two miles today along the beach with neither improvement nor impediment (nice literal descriptive there). I think it's the carbs in the wine that I miss, and yet, tonight I had to locate the roll of cellophane and refrigerate the uneaten half of a bowl of vegetables that I'd usually demolish. Is my body reading this deprivation as a time of famine, and is it adjusting the appetite until food can be located and speared? The ancient survival instincts of the thick thighed Mediterraneans awaken in me! I am strong. I am of the people who built Rome. Etruscan blood races through my veins. I would howl at the moon tonight but it will not be full again until the 30th of January. Instead, I will do laundry and then recommence reading Joseph O'Neill's Netherland which I am tempted to review before I finish it.
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Hm. Your experiment starts to sound appealing. I don't drink alcohol every day (not counting family visits), but like I said, those two cups of coffee each morning are a treat I miss when I skip them. I wonder how my largely Celtic genes would react? Sometime I'll have to tell you my theory about the Irish and the Italians being the same people, responding to differing amounts of sun and fresh vegetables.
ReplyDeleteOoh, can't wait to hear your thoughts on "Netherland." And also anything else you have to say about your sturdy loins.
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