I’m holding my breath for Sunday’s final match for World Cup supremacy.
The match between Argentina and Germany should be a nail-biter.
Okay, I know. That makes three posts on the subject of the World Cup.
I’m not obsessed.
Really I’m not.
“Yes you are. Tell the truth,” Calvin says.
“Okay, I am.”
Here’s why: Argentina, besides being my birth country, needs a shot in the arm of inspiration and positive world attention.
It’s a country which has a long history of government corruption and mistreatment of its people. And yet, it keeps getting up and forging ahead in spite of its misfortunes and financial reversals.
Argentinians are tenacious people with indomitable spirits. They’re strong, passionate, and intelligent.
And they’re very good at soccer.
Here’s their moment of world attention and I’m cheering them on for an extraordinary finish.
Won’t you join me?
Calvin says, “Not me. I can’t wait for it to be over. Then you’re all mine again.”
You can interpret this picture in many ways:
The spiritual person, “Find your source and grow deep.”
The individualist, “Be yourself. Even if you’re all wet.”
The pessimist, “That tree is gonna drown.”
The visionary, “Ferries. I see ferries!”
The photographer, “Too much water.”
Calvin says, “What water? I smell rabbits in those hills.”
I decided to go gluten-free a month ago. I thought I was going to die. The first two days I had flu-like symptoms with aches and pains all over my body. Then the migraine headache kicked in and hung on for more than 24-hours. I became so sleepy I couldn’t get off the couch. It was a good thing I decided to do this on a weekend when I would have time to indulge myself in these revolting symptoms. I was ready to tell my husband to drive me to the ER when I thought I better check the Internet first. Sure enough, everything I was experiencing was “normal” for wheat withdrawal.
Now that is downright scary.
I thought wheat was the staple of life.
That was 100 years ago when wheat was wheat. Today who knows what’s in it, like most of our food nowadays.
Do I feel better now? Honestly, it’s hard to tell. But I’m too scared to go back to wheat and feel lousy all over again.
Calvin says, “I don’t even want to think of what goes into my kibble.”
Do you walk through? Or do you return from where you came? What would you do?