savor the ride

Cherries, the Aging Process and George Washington

When the idea of a post hits me, I write it down immediately in the Headline of a Draft Post. If available, I jot down key words in the content section. Today’s headline: Cherries and Aging.

Ok, mystery writers, what could I have had on my mind with ‘Cherries & the Aging’ other than a history lesson. When I read it, I thought of George Washington. (I mean, you have to admit, he is aged.)

Great, now I have cherries, aging and George Washington. This one is going to give google analytics a run for its money attempting to track readers and statistics.

Further cherry digging did reveal some interesting facts about cherries:

Cherries contain melatonin. Melatonin slows down the aging process. Exactly how many cherries do I need to eat to hang out at 53 for a few years?
Cherries have high levels of disease-fighting antioxidants
Cherries contain critical nutrients such as magnesium, iron, fiber, and folate. Cherries have more than 19 times the amount of beta carotene found in strawberries and blueberries. Isn’t beta carotene in carrots? I can eat ++ cherries than carrots. (Ok, give me some ranch dip and I’ll keep eating the carrots for a bit).

Still, why cherries? Seems an odd thing for me to grab from the sky and write about. Maybe I have cherries on my mind because they are in season right now. I know because I had a few the other day: I was in Publix with LT, noticed the bing cherries were on sale and decided to taste one.

Lord, I wish you could have seen LT’s face before he launched into his shoplifting/stealing lecture. Jumping up and down, trying to get a word in, I attempted to tell him the produce manager told me I could sample them. He understood my hesitation to pay $3.99/pound for cherries if they did not taste good. The same pre-purchase tasting rule applies to grapes as well.

Instead, I was confronted with LT’s poker face, ” What are you going to do with the pit?”

I was tempted to tell him I planned to swallow it.

Just as I was opening my mouth, however, I had a flashback to 3rd grade when Mrs. Payne told me an orange tree would grow out my ear if I swallowed the seeds. Suddenly I had a U Stream of cherry blossoms.

I told him I always carry a cherry pit container in my purse for times like this.

Now, THAT look was priceless.

quick stop at Talbots

I love any excuse to go to Talbot’s. Wednesday I went under the umbrella “to select a mother’s day present.” The only flaw in this plan was the Talbot’s store in my area is divided: the petites are located in one quaint shop, the regular sizes in another location.

I drove straight to the petite’s Talbots store. What can I say? I’m a southern girl, born and bred on lime green, pink and Talbots’ famous red door.

I had a ball trying on outfit after outfit, strolling down the aisle to the three-way mirror. I pretended I was walking on the red carpet in Hollywood. I almost left the store wearing an unpaid new pink Talbot’s shirt with the tags hanging. I caught myself at the door. I scooted back to the dressing room to put my pink Talbots shirt on… and THEN paid for my new pink one. No need to go over the other purchases, right?

Next stop, the regular Talbots to select a gift for my mother. Thought this was safe terrain- I am a shrimp: I am 5′ tall. Unless I want to turn large cuffs into the vogue fashion of the summer season, all bets are off for clothes for me in this Talbots. Confidently opening the red door, I walk in immediately struck with the familiarity of the fashions featured at the petite shop. See, I’m on familiar, safe territory I tell myself.

Walking toward the far left corner, I glance to my right… oh no- I forgot. This store carries all of Talbots summer shoes! I start to walk over, stop, turn around, stop, walk over- stop and look over wantonly at the espadrilles with grosgrain ribbon. I used to wear a pair just like them in college! Just then my phone barked*: the LT. Am I wearing a wire? I share with him I am just getting ready to pick out two shirts for my mother. The spell is broken- my espadrille vision is fading just as my sorority days at Chapel Hill.

I walk over and select a lime green and pink shirt for my mother. She will love them. I leave the store glancing over my shoulder… at my espadrilles.

Cherries, the Aging Process and George Washington

quick stop at Talbots

Hi, I’m Ridgely

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