"Go at your own pace. That's what it's there for." --Dodgeball

So I'm haunting Craigslist for cheap exercise equipment and I come
across half a page of ads for riding stuff; bits, English saddles,
boots, jodhpurs, you name it. Apparently I'm not the only one
intrigued, as the last ad is
for this:

*******WHERE'S THE HORSE?*******


Just wondering.

Speaking of horses, or in this case draft pony physiques and my
chronic engagement with the topic of fitness, I'm totally looking to
cash in on other people's misguided New Year's resolutions. I got a
Nordic Track for $30 at an estate sale this summer and I'd like to
outfit the rest of a kickass gym for Casa de Feld for similar chump
change. Hopefully I answered soon enough on those weights for $65
(Olympic bar and standard set of plates, normally $300). In the
meantime, I snagged a jump rope and a small weight bar from Target for
twenty bucks.

Things I've learned from Craigslist:

1. Do not set up your exercise equipment in the basement. Even if you
have a finished basement, they just don't build them tall or airy
enough to want to spend time down there doing anything but laundry,
especially in the winter. Laundry is different because I think it
reminds us of freshening the nest, all those piles and baskets of warm
clothing. All those camera phone pics of exercise gear infesting dank
basement corners is depressing.

So the Casa gym is going to be in a spare bedroom until spring, and
then in the garage during warm months. I'm also thinking about
decoration and inspiration; paint, photos, art, and speakers for
music.

2. Don't buy anything that implies it will do the work for you, or
that it's relaxing or easy. There are a ton of squat machines, ab
loungers, mats, chairs and bullshit available and it goes
really cheap (if it sells at all) even if you keep all the DVDs
and extras it comes with. If you can't tell from the picture how it
works, people aren't going to buy it because they don't see the
Bowflex music video of oiled and sheened curves that made you buy it
in the first place. Some of the names alone are creepy and a lot of
them look like Farscape chairs.

3. Dude. No one wants your jumble of curl bars and unmatched plates.
What the hell am I going to do with one 45 pound plate, keep my
papers tidy during a tornado? Brain the next dumbfuck who blows their
snow out into the street? Use it as a pizza stone? Give it up
already. Sell it for scrap iron and stop posting it every damned day.
Or at least take a picture of the mess where it doesn't look like I'd
need a tetanus booster just to touch it.

In other news, I've been experimenting with whimsical produce
shopping: I wander through the market, pick out the things that look
pretty or yummy, and then figure out how to eat them when I get home.
I'm 35 years old and I just had my first persimmon. Of course, now
I've had quite a few persimmons, for lo they are delicious and one can
eat everything but the little calyx on top and the occasional huge
seed. The crotchity old coot eyeing me snidely as we picked them out
was right to be so territorial.

This weekend I made fried plantains (they were so emerald! and the
inexplicable band of strapping tape around each one looked so
naughty!) and baba ghannouj (aubergine! the official fruit of
Scullyfic!). The fried plantains are mild but starchy, next time I'll
cut them thinner. Baba ghannouj, on the other hand, is one of those
things that rewards the effort of making it at home, even if you're
too lazy to dig out the processor and just mash it ineffectively with
a knife and fork.