Funny critters

A peek into our home this morning finds me pondering salt and Westley moping and shedding. I'll return to these subjects, but first a view of things that are becoming only memories.

Before she moved out three years ago, Victoria's room looked like this:Her door:Change and transition have simmered since then. Lately my project's been completing the transformation of this corner of our home into my office and exercise space. At last yesterday I happily trotted on my treadmill beside one window, while gazing at sun-dappled trees through the other. This sure beat a staring contest with My Little Ponies.

The only problem in our new set-up belonged to Westley. He found himself stuck in the room with me, and I wasn't going to pause my strides just to let him out, so he wailed for the final five minutes. Adding this discomfort to the stress of my having moved things around in his territory led to what appeared like moping to me (the shedding just happens all summer).

On the Fourth, at one of several get-togethers we attended (social butterflies we), a colleague of Tim's looked at me aghast when I mentioned I prefer watermelon with salt. He appeared further disgusted as I listed quite a few fruits and vegetables on which I sprinkle the iodized mineral. "My uncle did that," he said. "Salted everything. He died of a heart attack at sixty."

Since then I've reviewed my salty habits. Maybe I should change. But what I really ought to have answered, despite recognizing the man's intent to help me, was that I think I'd rather spend 60 good years enjoying salted foods than 80 or more tasteless ones without it.

Anyway, back to the home front. Today I may finally take down Victoria's door decorations that she hasn't already removed. I think I'm ready...I think.

And yes, by the way. As I finished breakfast (yogurt with cantaloupe, banana, and Nutty Rice cereal that tasted fine as it was without added salt), I remembered something from the Fourth and laughed a little. The man who warned me of the folly of saltiness was on his way to a corner of the patio to smoke a cigarette.

We're such funny critters.

Comments

Marianne Elixir said…
Just make sure you switch to real sea salt (preferably Celtic), and then, have it on everything - even fruit =)
Cherie said…
My dad has ALWAYS salted his watermelon and he just turned a healthy 81! Nuts to the non-salting smoker. You do your own thang, Deanna.

(Love those posters on Vics door!)
jodi said…
lol--my son is named Victor because we expected the daughter that showed up next. She's Catherine Victoria, because we didn't want a Victor and Victoria.

I love salt on my apples. But I think I got the habit from grade school. They salted everything. No clue why.

There's nothing worse than a salt free diet. Ick.
Deanna said…
Marianne, I used to get sea salt and had forgotten about it. I'll look for Celtic, and then I won't feel guilty.

Cherie, yeah! Tim's great-granddad used a lot of salt, too, and I think he made it nearly to 100.

Jodi, we had a granddad named Victor and a best friend from childhood named Victoria. Our daughter's only complaint about her name is the lingerie franchise that always threatens to reveal her secret.

Apples with salt? Haven't tried that one yet...
thebookbaglady said…
Salt?? Bring in on! Love it.

Shedding? OK, I get it--I didn't realize it would last all summer. I keep waiting for Our Free Cat to quit leaving tufts everywhere--especially on black shirts/capris. I have a 'lint roller' now. One of the kids tried it on the cat...maybe if we did that everyday I wouldn't have to vacuum. :-)
MissKris said…
At my age - 54 - I eat something salty like pretzels and I can literally watch my fingers and ankles swell. Does it stop me?? Nooooooooooo, ha! I'm a first-time visitor coming over from Mike's Memories and I'm also a fellow blogging Oregonian...Portland here! I enjoyed my visit and hope you'll stop by to visit me, too!
Mike S said…
We used to put salt on green apples as kids to soften the sour tanginess a bit. When I lived in the south a lot of folks salted their tomatos. I like celery salt on my hot dogs, just a dash.

we have a cute book on cats called "Everything Here Is Mine" which really puts 'cat psychology' into perspective.
Deanna said…
Oh, Gretchen, the perils of cat hair. Our Westley sizes up the people in the room. Darkest outfit, yep. That's the person he goes for. We have a lint brush. I think if I tried it on the cat he'd overwhelm it - we'd be left with an orange and white tuft with a handle sticking out. :o)

Miss Kris, welcome. I'm glad to know you're out there and have enjoyed perusing your blog.

Mike, I'll have to find that book. I know cats have conquered the world; we're just mostly in denial. ;o)
fresca said…
I've wondered if salting watermelon was Southern, because my Missouri mother used to do it, but no one up here (Minnesota) does it.
I wonder if it might have something to do with geography--working in the hot Southern fields and needing to rebalance electrolytes?

But now you in Oregon do it too--of course, Americans are all jumbled up, geographically, so that needn't mean anything.

But it's got me curious--I am going to check out the book on the history of salt (called "Salt"?) that came out a few years ago and I always meant to read.

Anyway, I am deeply suspicious of the motives of people who warn us about our behaviours "for our own good." Especially if they're smoking.
MissKris said…
I read the Amazon review for "Upstairs the Peasants are Revolting" but couldn't find it or any other books by the author on Portland's library site. It looks so good! Is it worth spending the money on??? I hate spending money on a book, only to be disappointed after reading a few pages.
Deanna said…
This comment has been removed by the author.
Deanna said…
Hi Deanna,

Mark's mom salted everything as well, especially watermelon. Her family was from Oklahoma. I know growing up in New England, in an italian family, the only thing we salted was our pasta water!

Deanna
Deanna said…
Fresca and Deanna, I lived in Oklahoma for a while as a kid; probably that's where this all started. :o)