Now that I plan to write more at Foldedspace in the future, one topic I’ll expore over and over is animal intelligence. As many of you know, I’ve long been fascinated by animals and their cognitive powers. Though I don’t think they have human intelligence, I think they’re much much smarter than most people give them credit for.
I actually kept a blog called Animal Intelligence for a number of years, but it wasn’t something I could maintain; it was just too much work. Over the next few months, I’ll gradually incorporate some of my favorite pieces from that old site here at jdroth.com. But I’ll also introduce new stuff, too, such as this video from National Geographic:
Surya the orangutan loves Roscoe the dog. These two spend a lot of time playing together. This is a great example of inter-species friendships, one of my favorite animal intelligence sub-topics.
(By the way, did I mention that one of my goals is to actually befriend a crow? I think it must be possible; I’ve just got to figure out how.)
Tonight I read Michael Pollan’s latest book, Food Rules which is a short list of 64 guidelines for eating right. These are based on the findings in his last book, In Defense of Food, the thesis of which was:
Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.
Pollan’s food rules build on these three main points to create a sort of blueprint for right eating. “Think of these food policies as little algorithms designed to simplify your eating life,” he writes. “Adopt whichever ones stick and work best for you.” (This sounds remarkably like my personal motto: “Do what works for you.”)
After spending an hour reading Food Rules (I told you it was a short book!), I’ve decided to try incorporating the following policies in my own life. Some will be more difficult than others:
- 3. Avoid food products containing ingredients that no ordinary human would keep in the pantry.
- 4. Avoid food products that contain high-fructose corn syrup.
- 5. Avoid foods that have some form of sugar (or sweetener) listed in the top three ingredients.
- 11. Avoid foods you see advertised on television.
- 12. Shop the peripheries of the supermarket and stay out of the middle.
- 13. Eat only foods that will eventually rot.
- 17. Eat only foods that have been cooked by humans.
- 22. Eat mostly plants, especially leaves.
- 23. Treat meat as a flavoring or special occasion food.
- 27. Eat animals that have themselves eaten well.
- 30. Eat well-grown food from healthy soil.
- 35. Eat sweet foods as you find them in nature.
- 39. Eat all the junk food you want as long as you cook it yourself.
- 43. Have a glass of wine with dinner.
- 44. Pay more, eat less. (By which Pollan means pay for quality.)
- 45. Eat less.
- 46. Stop eating before you’re full.
- 49. Eat slowly.
- 53. Serve a proper portion and don’t go back for seconds.
- 56. Limit snacks to unprocessed plant foods.
- 59. Try not to eat alone.
- 60. Treat treats as treats.
- 64. Break the rules once in a while.
For me, 2010 is the year of fitness. While writing my book, I sat at my desk all day, ate junk food from the minimart next door, and as a result gained 20 pounds. (And I was none too healthy before that.) As a result, I started this year at 213 pounds, chronic insomnia, and a complete lack of physical aptitude.
I lost five pounds last month, and I have good momentum moving into February. My breakfasts are good right now (1/3 cup Bob’s Red Mill whole grain cereal with flaxseed, 1/2 ounce of raisins, pinch of salt, 2 packets of Sugar in the Raw, and 1/4 cup of skim milk), but I haven’t found a routine with everything else. I want to work on that. In particular, I want to move toward eating far more fruits and vegetables than I do now. (Which shouldn’t be too difficult since that number is near zero.)
This ought to be interesting. I’ve never actually had rules for my eating before. (Have you? Do people actually set food rules for themselves?) Maybe I should print out my policies and carry them with me!
Note: I remember reading the article(s) Pollan wrote while prepping for this book. One of the rules that didn’t get included here (because it’s not about eating) is “don’t yuck somebody else’s yum”. I’ve really tried to adopt this. I’m a notorious yucker of other people’s yums. But I’ve also had fun scolding others for making faces at the food I like…
One of the things that sucks about being productive is that I no longer know how to relax. Once, not so long ago, I was the Master of Slack. If there was work to be avoided, I avoided it. I preferred to relax — and I was good at it.
Now, though, the opposite is true. Perhaps I don’t do as much around the house as Kris would like, but that’s usually because I’m doing work of some sort, whether it’s for a book, a blog, or some related project. In fact, for the past four months, all I’ve done is work. (And complain about working.)
But my schedule is no longer crammed with things to do. Sure, I have my chore cloud, but there’s nothing that needs to be done RIGHT NOW. Yet because I’ve become conditioned to be in this hyper-focused work state, I’m finding it impossible to relax: My body is tense, and my mind is alert. It’s difficult to fall asleep at night. I don’t have the patience to read a book.
Yesterday, I tried to spend a lazy Sunday. I remember fondly the lazy Sundays from my youth, lounging around the trailer house with the funny pages, playing outside with Jeff and Tony. I also remember having nice lazy Sundays when Kris and I first moved into our house in Canby. But I haven’t had one of those in a long time.
So, yesterday I loafed on the couch (or tried to), petted the cats, read a book (or tried to), and watched a movie with Kris. It was nice. Today I tried more of the same. I walked down to the gym and back — a 5-1/2 mile round-trip. I drove out to the box factory, and then stopped at my favorite pizza parlor on the way home. Eventually I made my way up here to the office where I had vowed to play a computer game. But I can’t make myself do it. It seems like such a waste.
Instead, I’m going to continue my attempts to get into a groove here on foldedspace. I realize that nobody’s really reading anymore, but I’m sticking with the promise I made last summer when I moved this blog to jdroth.com (it used to live here). I intend for this to become an active, vibrant place again, just like it was in the olden days (circa 2004-05). But in order for that to happen, I’m going to have to write nearly every day.
So consider this a bit of practice. That seems like a good use of my time: It’s neither fully productive, but it’s not loafing around, either. Plus, I enjoy it. And maybe if I do this often enough, I’ll find my voice again, and foldedspace will return to its glory days. I think that’d be fun…
Now that I’m finished with the bulk of the work on Your Money: The Missing Manual, I finally have time to do stuff again, to live life. Last night I went bowling with the MNF group. This morning, for the first time since late September, I took a stroll through the neighborhood.
“Hey,” Kris said as I rolled out of bed. “On your way back from the gym, I need you to pick up three onions and a bag of ice.”
“Ugh,” I said. I hate going to the grocery store when I’m soaked in sweat. “I have a better idea. Why don’t I walk to the store.”
“Fine,” Kris said. “But then you have to get me a medium latté extra hot from the Oak Grove Coffee House.”
“Deal,” I said. I pulled on a stocking cap, warm gloves, and donned my backpack, then headed out the door. I decided to take the long way.
Right away I knew I’d made the right choice. It was one of those cool and misty grey mornings we Oregonians are so accustomed to. But it wasn’t too wet. I strolled toward Risley Park, listening to the birds and the squirrels and the train in the distance. I waved hello to the folks who passed by walking thier dogs. I smiled to see so many cats watching from windows, waiting for their people to let them outside.
I walked up the hill at Courtney Ave. At the intersection with McLoughlin, I had to wait for the light. As I did, I listened to the murmur from the old men gathered outside GG’s Deli, smoking their cigarettes and sipping their coffee.
As I crossed the street, I spotted another fellow walking 100 feet in front of me. He, too, was wearing a stocking cap, warm gloves, and a backpack. And he was cutting across the old G.I. Joe’s parking lot as if he were headed to the grocery store.
In fact, that’s exactly what he was doing. I followed him the rest of the way: past the hardware store, down the side street, and across the parking lot to Fred Meyer. “I wonder if he took the long way, too,” I thought. I’d just spent about an hour walking three miles to make a one-mile trip. But I was too chicken to catch up and chat with him.
“I need to write this down,” I thought as I entered the store. I cursed myself for failing to bring paper with me. It seems like every time I leave my notebook at home, there’s something I want to write. No problem. I headed over to the school supplies, grabbed a a notebook, and now I’m sitting at a table in the patio furniture section, writing a blog post.
But I really need to get on my way. Kris needs three onions and a bag of ice (not to mention her medium latté extra hot), and I think I may want to take the long way home.
