Me: (making brekkie)
Her: What do you have that’s big?
Me: (putting down spatula) Ok…where to begin?
Her: (nodding) Yeah, I heard it. I heard what I said.

I hate cleaning. I’ll do it – in fact my sister recently comment on how nice I kept our pad – but I hate it.

So, I’ve always had a deal with partners, roommates, housemates, etc, that, if I do the shopping and cooking, I don’t need to clean.

With Sara that’s worked out really well for the most part.

Except she’s the baker so when she bakes, I gotta do the cleaning.

Ever since she started making homemade sourdough bread, we have a now never-ending supply of absolutely delicious homemade bread with just four ingredients: Water, flour, salt, and butter. That’s it.

But, she’s also been expanding her repertoire.

Case-in-point, she’s been making a lot more – absolutely killer – sourdough pizzas.

Every one is better than the last because she keeps tinkering and tweaking her recipe.

Below is her latest one with a homemade caprese.

Me: God, I could go for a pie.
Her: I could bake you a pie.
Me: For serious?
Her: (shrugging) Sure, what kind do you want?
Me: What kind wouldn’t I want?! Lemon. The answer is lemon; and maybe key lime pie. Every other pie works.
Her: Oh man, key lime pie is my favourite.

So, she ended up baking a blueberry pie from scratch with an almond butter crust and homemade blueberry filling.

I ate pretty much 3/4 of that pie myself.

Probably shoulda remembered to take a pic first before I dug into it.

Couldn’t wait though because…homemade blueberry pie from scratch!

On a related/unrelated point, it would have been my dad’s 88th birthday recently – which woulda been a super auspicious day because the number eight is a homonym for “prospering” AND “88” is also a homonym for father.

So, my sister wrote me that day.

Her: Today Ba would have turned 88! Have some noodles and pork trotters in memory of him.
Me: Oh, man – thanks, Nins! You know, I’m in Chinatown today for work and [the kid] did ask for noodles so I’ll do exactly that!

And I did.

I told him it was for my dad.

Him: Why noodles?
Me: Good question – it’s because the noodle represents long life. And he had a good one, if not super long. Actually, for the people you love, it’s never long enough.

It really never is.

Miss you so much, dad.

Wish you were here.

Location: Earlier today, an Applebee’s that smelled less than ideal
Mood: exhausted again
Music: you wouldn’t believe the dream I just had about you and me (Spotify)
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Me: I assume you were one of the popular kids at school?
Alison: (laughing) No, I was a jock.
Me: What? You?
Her: Yup – I was on the soccer team from when I was kid all the way to when I was in college.
Me: Man, you were a jock!

Alison and I rarely fought – probably because we saw eye-to-eye on almost everything.

Everything, that is, except for sports.

She insisted that he play a team sport, but I just wanted him to focus on school and martial arts.

That’s probably because I absolutely dreaded gym class when I was a kid.

Me: I remember at least once, two team captains had a fight as to who had to take me.
Alison’s father: How small was your school?
Me: (shrugging) I guess small enough that two team captains had a fight as to who had to take me.

The kid is so different from me – PE is actually his favoruite class.

Not only that, but somehow – even without Alison being here – he’s gravitated mainly to soccer and asked to be on his school’s team.

I told him no but Alison’s parents, very gently, told me to reconsider.

I remember the fights that Alison and I used to have on the topic and I also saw just how much it meant to the kid to be on a team, so I relented.

I also involve Alison’s parents in all my decision making when it comes to the kid for three major reasons:

1. 1. They’ve successfully raised several kids whereas I can barely keep Harold alive.
   2. I figure that they represent Alison’s point-of-view better than I would so, in some ways, I still have her counsel, in a manner of speaking, despite her not being here with us.
   3. Clearly, I have no idea what I’m doing – I’m just winging it, as I think most first-rime parents do.

So, this past week, I went to the kid’s first soccer game.

The administration behind soccer has been an absolute disaster: They had their tryouts late on a Monday and the very first competition game just two days later.

Most of the kids didn’t even have cleats and have never played with each other.

But they tried their level best that day, against kids much bigger than them.

It was a rout – my kid’s team lost 7-to-1 but the single goal was made by the kid’s buddy Rust with an assist by him, which made me proud (sorry, no pics of that play).

But, in the end, I thought they all did a good job.

Me: Your mamma woulda been proud of you.
Him: But we lost.
Me: She would just be glad that you tried your best.
Him: It wasn’t fair. All the bigger kids kept hunting us.
Me: Well, the point of the game is to win – honestly and ethically, but still. They did that.
Him: (dejected) I guess.
Me: You know what, how about some fast food?
Him: (brightening) Really!?
Me: Yeah, sure. It’s not an always kinda thing but today’s a special occasion.
Him: Thanks, papa!
Me: Anytime, kid.

Mood: still sotted
Music: Your time to shine, don’t wait in line, and we go for it all (Spotify)
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Me: Can you open this jar for me?
Her: Are your fingers bothering you again?
Me: Oh, yeah, like crazy.

I can’t eat peanut butter anymore.

Well, that’s not completely true – I can’t eat anywhere near the amount I’ve been eating for the past 12-15 years, which is about 1/3-to-1/2 cup a day.

On the positive side, I attribute my current overall health to the fact that a solid 1/2 of my entire diet is essentially beans, as peanuts are legumes.

BUT it turns out that peanut butter is obscenely high in Omega-6, which is not a good thing.

A 1/2 cup (approximately 128 grams) of peanut butter, has, on average:

• Omega-6 Fatty Acids: ~18,000 mg to 20,000 mg (18 to 20 grams)
• Omega-3 Fatty Acids: ~20 mg to 100 mg (0.02 to 0.1 grams)

Ideally, there should be a 1-to-1 ratio of Omega-6 to Omega-3, with the maximum being no more than 4-to-1.

But for the past decade-and-a-half, I’ve been eating roughly a 200:1 to 300:1 ratio of Omega-6 to Omega-3.

Yoikes!

Now the reason why this matters is because I’ve been struggling with both my back, and a ridic amount of arthritis in my hands.

Like, to the point that I bought a left-handed mouse only to not even be able to use that.

So, I did a little digging and remembered hearing that peanut butter can contribute to inflammation, which is how I discovered those stats about the Omega-6s vs. 3s.

Ergo, I stopped eating peanut butter about two weeks ago and switched to walnut butter and ALL the pain in my left hand went away completely and most of the pain in my right hand, save my index/mouse finger, which is greatly less pained.

Sigh.

Now I literally have about 10 pounds worth of peanut butter that I’ve gotta go through.

I’ve been limiting myself to a single tablespoon of peanut butter a day but eating canned fish every other day.

While Sara’s probably thrilled there’s less peanut butter all over the house, she’s less enthused about all the cans of fish that are now in the trash.

As for me, looks like I’ll have to take out another mortgage to be able to enjoy alla this walnut butter I’m gonna be having.

Him: You know, you could also just stop eating nut butters.
Me: Let’s not be crazy here.

Location: a fancy dinner for the Irish
Mood: sotted
Music: I’m on my knees looking for recipes (Spotify)
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