Skip to main content

I ate corn twice and other summer regrets



I may have slept through the Summer of 2014.
Certainly, I didn't do much else.
Last week, it hit me. I'd only consumed corn on the cob, my absolute favorite vegetable, twice.
When I was a kid, the oldsters teased me that I could eat a dozen corn on the cob in one sitting -- when I was twelve!
 For some people that would mean hugging the toilet for a couple of hours. In my case, living in a house without indoor plumbing, that would not have been an option.
It just didn't seem to affect me that way, whether I ate one cob or a dozen. I was like a little beaver sawing logs. RRRRRRR; in thirty seconds the cob was done.
Alas, as I get older, corn does get me runnin' a bit, but I still love to slather the butter, salt the little number and scarf it down. It's a horror show really, with condiments dripping from my face.
Shirts are never the same after a good feet at the trough.
But this year, the oompf went out of my corn dogging.
Maybe it was all the dieting I've done over the past few years. Maybe it's Doctor Oz.
It think this whole weight thing has actually made me afraid of certain foods. Except ice cream. I could never be afraid of ice cream.
Whatever the reason, corn wasn't on the menu. I will miss it terribly come January and will be jonzing for it in the spring.
Thinking about corn, a reality set in. I realized that I have stopped doing many of my favorite things in the summer.
I didn't play tennis.
Haven't for years.
I used to love tennis, the sun on my face, the whirr of the ball as somebody hit it past your left ear when you weren't paying attention, the beer afterwards, the company.
But tennis has become too demanding. If you play club tennis, you have to commit to showing up, and I rarely commit to lunch these days. Also, my left knee has developed arthritis.
But watching Eugenie Bouchard not win any majors this year, has brought back the longing.
Unfortunately, it hasn't brought me back to the courts.
Golf.
I used to play golf a couple times a week -- at least. For two years, I rented a condo at Amberwood Village, back in the day. I played nearly every day when I was working nights reviewing bad bands for the Citizen.
Amberwood had tennis courts, a par three golf court, a pool and racquetball.
It was a dream spot.
Over those two years, I was never in better shape. It brought joy into my life to see the little white ball sail over treacherous waters and land on the green. Didn't always happen, but when it did, I couldn't believe there was a better feeling on Earth.
Who cared about the mosquitos the size of softballs?
Even if I sucked, it was still a nice walk on a rich man's lawn.
I haven't played golf in years, either.
It's too expensive.
Besides, now everybody is taking it up and all the courses look like car washes, with everybody lining up, hurrying up, just to wait.
I can get that at Red Lobster.
I used to walk, too, through the woods, smelling the pine air and kicking the chips on this city's wonderful trails. Now, I can only go once a week, for the running of the hounds, because of my damned bummed knee.
Oh yes, and cottage life. There's nothing nicer than going to a cottage, paddling around a lake, playing cards til midnight and reading in the sun while feeding peanuts to a chippie.
We didn't get invited to any cottages this year.
It's sad because every day I wake up to see the gorgeous images on the splash pages of my Facebook friends who have inherited their parents' cottages. I'm an orphan from a widowed woman, so I sit here looking at the cottage pictures, writing on this old computer and hoping Rosie O'Donnell will get into a fight on The View.
It's sad, really, to realize you've become a pastey faced, yo-yo-dieting indoor girl.
Fear has brought me to this place.
I'm afraid to get out in the sun and venture out only in the twilight like some kind of vamp. I slather on SPF 40 instead of baking in the noon day sun.
I want to bake. I want to tan.
But fear and a fierce esthetician has keep those instincts at bay.
The good news is I have virgin skin again. The spots are gone, the bags have subsided.
I look like a summer lass voting in the Scotland referendum.
But I kept my promise and now I have virgin skin again.
I've traded in the golf clubs for a gym membership. I swim in a tepid saltwater pool instead of with the leeches and zebra mussels.
I've given up the carbs that brought joy to my belly in favor of squash and kale.
Sometimes I regret this change of lifestyle.
I'm no longer what you would consider a risk taker.
But my waistline, and my skin, and my knee thank me.
At this age, I guess that has to be enough.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ashley Simpson: Don't Let Her Die in Vain

  Six years ago, I was combing through my Facebook and I saw post from my cousin Julie Major. Her brother and his wife were frantically looking for their daughter Ashley who just days before had Facetimed her mom saying she was planning to return to her home in Niagara. Ashley never made it home. She was murdered in cold blood in her home in Salmon Arm then buried in a nearby field. It would be five and a half years before her body was located, and her boyfriend was charged with second degree murder.  Today, Ashley's urn has a sacred spot in her parents' home, and Derek Favell is in jail awaiting trial by judge and jury. The trial is expected to go into next year sometime. This has been an agonizing journey for Ashley's friends and family. The pain has never stopped, and the wounds are broken open every time the family has to sit through a series of pre-trial proceedings. Fortunately, this ordeal will end but the pain will never wane for the people, including me, who have b...

Ashley Simpson: A Father Remembers

I have asked Ashley Simpson's family and friends to give us a glimpse into the life she lived before going missing nearly a month ago. Here is how her father John remembers his sweet girl. Ashley was a treat when she came into this world, a smashing 9lbs 8 ounces with a  head full of hair and nails that needed to be clipped. She has made many friends in her journey of life and continues to make them as we speak. She has made this world a better place by her love of mankind and this place we call Earth; unfortunately this life she has lived hasn't been the best for her. She has suffered through unbearable pain and suffering through her menstrual cycles. She has cysts on her ovaries that make those 10 days a living hell. She had one of her ovaries removed when she was just 14; the other they won't take out till she is 40 or older. Years of hell for my Ashley. I so feel her pain every month but she doesn't quit, doesn't give in.   That'...

What Bell isn't telling you about Fibe TV

Update: This week, we switched back to Rogers after spending far too long using Bell's crappy television service. For those with Bell, read and weep. For those considering Bell, think twice even if you hate Rogers. RS I've always been an early technology adapter. I had a Betamax. That tells you everything (if you're over 50 at least). My first computer was a "Portable". It weighed 40 pounds and I had to lug it around town on a gurney. I've been through probably 15 computers in my lifetime. Apple is the best. It's also too expensive so I have a piece of shit HP, the one I'm writing this blog on. I've had cable, internet and now Netflix. American Netflix . That's how far ahead of the curve I am. I get all the newspapers for free. How? I disabled my cookies so they can't track me when I'm on the newspaper sites. Even the New York Times hasn't cottoned on to that trick. Hahaha. That will be a fifty buck consulting fee. Bein...