walking adventures; evolution

EVOLUTION

I reject the one-dimensional view of a beneficent Mother Nature. I prefer the balanced acceptance of Nature that leaves dew drops on roses AND drops houses on orphanages. Evolution is also one of my favorite amoral concepts. Natural selection has led us to opposable thumbs and walking upright. And continues to produce virulent strains of disease that morph and dart so rapidly we can't dodge them or develop protections fast enough.

(By the way, my body-focus-bored friends, this is the last of this subject for awhile. Stay with me.)

The exercise-sweat theme has recurred because all this steady exposure to the record-breaking heat outdoors has produced stunning results. Everybody should sweat. Our bodies have pores for this purpose. Else we would overheat and explode or just expire. But my cooling powers were getting downright awesome.

I used to be embarrassed. And that was back when I sweat pretty evenly over my body. It wasn't until I began, some years ago, to sweat from my head in such profusion (I wondered if something was awry) that I began to marvel rather than hide. I had an epiphenita that my body was going through it's own evolution because at my age, the most important item to cool down was mission control: mi cabeza, my thinking cap, me noggin'. Most everything else was wearing down but my head, well that was still running things and by god, it wasn't going to spontaneously combust while I still had salt water reserves.

People, it's amaze-ing. Like white water rapids and Iguazu falls for mosquitoes and gnats. Like water sluicing down a rainforest mountain. My daughter saw me with soaked bandanas around my neck and forehead and joked about what a good look it was on me. I told her that the only thing that would stem this tide would be a terrycloth ski mask.

And I am grateful. Furthermore, anyone who doesn't hesitate to hug me while I'm sweating is getting put into the will. Word.

epiphenita turns 5

Five years ago today I sat in an internet cafe in Spain trying to peck out my first post on a Spanish keyboard. I was sure I was "doing it wrong." I was far from home, excited and a bit homesick. Not to mention struggling to decipher the melodious cacophony around me. Or rely on words and humor to make myself understood and accepted.

I loved my experience in Spain. It was all about communication. And the perfect marriage for the birth of a blog (though married to what I'm not really clear. Hell, I call dibs on immaculate blog conception). I love writing here. It is one of the no-brainer wins for technology in my life.

I've been absent these 4 weeks. Well, these 2 months. I am constantly jotting down notes on paper or in text files on my hard drive. I take photos to share. I've got a b(ack)log of shit to share.

However, and speaking of backlogs, I am off to a routine colonoscopy* exam so I can't spend much time here. No really. Gotta go.

*If the mention of a colonoscopy brings a chorus of "TMI" you really shouldn't read this blog anymore. I plan on breaking down whatever flimsy politeness barriers I've been working behind. Buck up. There will be shit jokes.