Before...

Unable to leave well enough alone, we have this, bought today, which will be prepared after a nice dose of home-made fresh pasta and Alfredo sauce, my next cooking assignment.

The Barefoot Guy

The day before yesterday, I was passed on the running path by a tall, Nordic-looking young man--maybe American, maybe German--who was running barefoot.  I would have paid good money to have been able to catch up to him and ask about his barefoot running.  He was long gone by the time I managed to propel myself up the pedestrian bridges spanning a big intersection, but next time I hope to be able to talk to him even if I have to hang out at the end of the running park (known as Narcisistics' Corner).  Because of the frequent winds at this time of year, the running path is often liberally sprinkled with acorns or even pecans, and one section is covered with bird poop that stinks to high heaven.  The poop washes off, but stepping on those acorns must be really painful.  He surely cannot manage to avoid them all.  I'll report back once I've managed to interview the guy.

On the same day, leaving Narcissitics' Corner at a healthy trot, was a guy no taller than I but absolutely bursting with muscle.  Obviously heavily into pumping iron, he was short enough that weight work could build him up in no time flat, but lordy!  A tad more and he would be wider than he was tall, and if you've ever seen the charge of a mountain gorilla on the Discovery Channel, you've seen this guy. 

Yesterday and today are rest days, thanks to fibromyalgia, and this afternoon we celebrate the birthday of our little Ian, a cutie of the first order.  He is seven today.  He's the same honest little fellow who looked deep into my eyes while giving me a big hug and told me I looked like an iguana.  He's into reptiles, so it isn't as terrible as it sounds.  Well, okay, it is, but he meant well.