Yesterday felt… empty. The universal stitching I have come to lean on, that reliable seam between what was and what is – it was shattered yesterday, allowing each hour to morph into the next with a vulgar swell. The day lacked definition, it lacked a comfortable certitude. Why? Well…
International Sweatpants Day
That fine line between recreation and vocation lies in the pants. Sweatpants are bed pants. They are couch-flopping pants. They are the pants of leisure and disconnect. Wearing them to work today, while it honoured the spirit of the day, it removed that separation and left me feeling listless and confused. I slouched down further in my office chair. I couldn’t carry my phone around, lest the waistband sag. And though I lint-rolled the dog hair off, more seemed to grow in its place. I celebrated International Sweatpants Day, but I think this one beat me from a psychological angle.
A Frenchman named Emile Camuset gets credit for inventing sweatpants in the 1920s. They tend to be the most comfortable of all legwears, and as such it is forbidden to wear them in public, unless you want to appear to be in the most casual of states. Fine for the grocery store on a Thursday morning, but not entirely appropriate for an evening of opera.
And not ideal for work, as the parameters of the day should be kept sacred: comfort and calm at home, a modicum of slight discomfort when out in the world. The temptation of a nap was too great. Except…
Museum Selfie Day
There was no napping with so much walking to do. Crammed into my lunch hour I made my way from my beige-grey cubicle to Edmonton’s Neon Sign Museum, which seems to grow in content every time I pass by. Some of these signs date back to Edmonton’s pre-oil adolescence. Some reflect institutions that were crucial to this city’s metropolitan muscle. At night it makes for a toasty, colorful history lesson.
From there it was a quick six blocks to the Royal Alberta Museum in its new location. This place is just bursting with great finds, following the long history of Alberta people, some impressive fossils and dino bones, and the creepy-ass bug room. Unfortunately I saw none of that today, as my entire lunch hour had been swallowed up with walking. But we’ll be back within these walls – well, the Royal Alberta Museum’s walls; the neon museum is strictly an outside thing – before too long.
National Squirrel Appreciation Day
Upon returning home I tossed some grub to our beloved and intrepid bulldog co-creators, Trixie and Rosa, then proceeded to dole out a big pile of peanuts for our beloved rodent tenant, Elton.
Elton – or some form of Elton… we really aren’t sure when one squirrel dies and another moves in – has lived in our little wood pile in our yard for years. Last fall he moved in to the shed attached to our house. He didn’t ask, he simply claimed squatter’s rights. And who were we to argue? The guy’s cute, he doesn’t bother us or cause any damage, and he gives us something to watch out our bedroom window. It’s either him or that shirtless old guy over the fence.
In the fall, Jodie gave Elton a few rags to use as bedding. We regularly drop him some nuts for a snack. I suppose that makes us generous landlords, right? I mean, we could be more generous. We could have invited him inside during last week’s cold blast, but we didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable or obligated. Lot of pride, those squirrels have.
And that shirtless old guy? He told us last fall that we should call pest control and eradicate little Elton. Not a chance. The little dude is family.
National Hugging Day
Some kid in the south Indian state of Kerala was booted out of school for hugging a classmate when she won a competition. This moved its way up through the system to the High Court somehow, and ultimately the principal’s decision was upheld. The kid was expelled for morality reasons, dammit. And what could be more immoral than a hug?
Bullshit. Hugging reduces blood pressure. Hugging releases oxytocin, which is a groovy little peptide hormone that gives the body a big ol’ oomph at the most life-assuring moments. Hugging is an act of sharing stardust. It’s the heat-blanket horizon folding in on itself for 2-20 beautiful seconds. Season it with a cuddle or spice it with a bro-back-slap, but a hug is a chance for two people to unplug the universe for a tiny moment.
We hugged. We each hugged some folks at work. Then we hugged again. And when we couldn’t – when Jodie was still off chaperoning three dozen kids at the theatre last night, I had another way to celebrate:
National Hug Your Puppy Day
Puppies are the most huggable of all creatures. They hug back – sometimes with their eyes, sometimes with a thin splat of drool. It’s all affection. It’s all wonderful.
National Granola Bar Day
Rather than trust the folks at Quaker or the residents of Nature Valley to concoct a prepackaged granola bar, I decided to make my own. This perpetual party features a plethora of palatable platters, but we can’t simply eat what the calendar tells us. This party necessitates some real immersion. The act of creation is the true expression of art, is it not? Yesterday, for better, worse, or somewhere in the middle, I made my own granola bars.
I went for the no-bake double-chocolate peanut butter bars using this recipe from Averie Cooks. This is a food blog like so many out there, featuring page after page of unnecessary narrative and no less than two pop-up ads before you even reach the ingredients. It was frustrating. But, I was by myself and so I chronicled the bars’ creation on film.
The Center for Science in the Public Interest has attempted to buzz-kill the granola bar, calling it a cookie masquerading as health food. Really? Who thought this was a health food? I dropped brown sugar, chocolate and honey all in this mess; oats were the only healthy ingredient. The real benefit to the granola bar is convenience: it’s a complete snack in its own little wrapper, and the appearance of oats in the cast means there’s at least one semi-healthy component.
Here’s a side-by-side comparison of a Nature Valley peanut butter granola bar and a Kit Kat:
The granola bar has 230 calories, 11 grams of fat, 150 mg of sodium and 11 grams of sugar.
The Kit Kat has 230 calories, 12 grams of fat, 35 mg of sodium and 22 grams of sugar.
So the lesson here may be: eat an apple. Below is the riveting (and astoundingly low-budget) video of me making granola bars last night.
Another light day today, so we may sprinkle in a weekly or monthly celebration to keep ourselves busy. No days off, not for another 344 days.
- National Blonde Brownie Day. A delicious take on the brownie – my generous and talented mother has prepared these for us.
- Library Shelfie Day. Get it? Shelfie? Oh man, those day-inventors, they know quality humor. This is about organizing your bookshelf, so I guess that’s my chore after work today. Woohoo!