Olive Oil Straight Up

A few more tidbits from my recent trip to Ann Arbor: When I arrived, I presented my father with a bottle of fruity Unio olive oil, which I had wrapped very, very thoroughly to prevent it from soaking everything in my suitcase. He undid the cap and immediately took a large swig, delighting his audience.

One day we looked at Dad’s baby book, primarily to see a list of all the places he lived. Mom said it was too dark where we were sitting, but Dad said, “That’s OK. It will make it seem mysterious."

One morning Mom and I listened to the Metallica CDs she bought after she saw Some Kind of Monster. A great thing about my mother is that she is always willing to try something new, on top of the million enthusiasms she has of her own. If you scanned the titles of the thousands of books in the house, you would think 25 people with many interests apiece lived there.

She said that she liked the movie—when it was over, she was like, “Yeah, Hetfield! Yeah, Hammett!”—and subsequently obtained Load and Ride the Lightning, which I thought was rather amazing.

One morning I came out of the bathroom in tears ("Wah, my soon-to-be-departed bathroom!") to find Mom listening to Alice in Chains’ Dirt at a healthy volume, studying the lyrics. After a couple of songs, she said, "I feel better."

On the plane home, I was seated next to a fellow who eats a lot of raw foods, including green pepper sandwiches. It kind of inspired me, so I started eating more salads and raw veggies after I got home. My father serves a salad with just about every meal he cooks, which is a lot of meals.

Soon, however, I was tapering off the fruits and veggies and had moved on to Whole Foods pizza, cake and potato gratin. It’s kind of sad to see all the beautiful apples, citrus fruit and tomatoes sitting forlornly on the counter. I’ve been on a pizza jag lately and, after testing several, can say the best is Whole Foods’, for about $4 a slice.

I’ve decided I need to spend less time cooking, so I am only going to make one entrée per week, such as a big pot of soup or beans. Two weekends ago, I made two-bean chili with bulgur. This past weekend I didn’t bother to cook at all, since I know I’m going to eat Whole Foods pizza and cake all week, probably.

Since returning home, I have seen these DVDs with Tom: Talk to Me, about Washington, DC, radio disk jockey Petey Greene, which was very good; The Notebook, a romance featuring Ryan Gosling; and Harsh Times, in which Christian Bale plays a psychotic thug very effectively; he was terrifying.

Tom and I had pizza at Pauline’s one night. We sat in the old-fashioned upstairs dining room, by a window. The pizza was pretty good, though Tom was slightly distraught that dinner cost us $27 apiece.

Hammett’s transition to eating wet food is complete. He prefers it with extra water mixed in—like soup—so he is now very well hydrated indeed, which I hoped might eliminate any problems with his urinary system, but Dr. Press said this week, after a recheck, that his urine remains way too concentrated, which can lead to all sorts of problems, so I need to try to get even more fluid down him, plus give him glucosamine.

Most fortunately, he will actually ingest this pill voluntarily if it’s presented atop a spoonful of wet food at mealtime.

I’ve had to stop using Feline Pine cat litter. It turns out Hammett hates it so much he would rather poop in the tub, though he did drag a towel off the edge of the tub and use it to cover the evidence. I’ve concluded the world’s best cat litter is World’s Best Cat Litter, which is made out of corn, and quite similar to clay in terms of the cat’s experience.

It’s biodegradable and clumps wonderfully so anything deposited can be easily removed, with the rest of the litter in the box remaining apparently pristine. It’s not dusty and it doesn’t smell like anything to speak of.

I recently bought a second bicycle helmet, for wet weather. It has a visor to which I will affix a second visor, a Salamander Beak. It will look extremely foolish, but will, I hope, help keep the rain off my glasses.

All is going well in the vehicular cycling department. Taking undue focus off the drivers around me has wrought a miracle. I am cycling with tremendous tranquility and comfort, and can now hardly believe how scared I was when I started taking the lane as a matter of course, not that long ago.

David C. emphasizes that when deciding where in the lane to ride, whether a bit more to the right or a bit more to the left, staying out of the door zone should always be a key consideration.