Tagged (gently) By Sweet Milky
The thoughts and possibilities of that school yard game with MilkyNips, prolific one, are endless but let’s get away from daydreaming and down to business. I need to be extra careful about my usual butchering of the grammar (preposition misuse, invented rules) with "Milky the Literary and the Sexy" hovering nearby. Don’t want to be scolded or worse. Morsels or the mundane? Five of them from me.
Fav authors. I read like a demon, mostly fiction. I’ve read everything by Daniel Silva (Gabriel Allon, the Moussad spy and assassin, is my guy). . . in the middle of his latest; James Lee Burke (Robicheaux the bad-boy bayou detective); Elmore Leonard (more than 50 books from him; he’s been at it since the 50’s!); Amitav Ghosh and J.M. Coetzee (“Disgrace” is this Nobel Prize winner’s best and is amazing.) Right next to me is “Sex at Dawn,” a look at the prehistoric origins of sexuality, and given to me by a fellow EP’er. The Bonobo monkeys and our ancestors from just a few thousand years ago and before had it right. Loved a peek at the vast cosmos and exactly how we can peek from Tom Ferris's "Coming of Age in the Milky Way."
I sank 23 free throws in a row over four games in high school and played varsity basketball and tennis for several years. No big deal considering I shot 10’s of thousands of shots from the foul line in the driveway under the scrutiny and watchful eye of my demanding coach dad. Five in a row to finish every evening before dinner.
I love to dance and I’m learning “Salsa” and all of its complicated breaks, beats and weight changes. Not so easy in the dance outfit that demands heels. There are many teachers where I live which has a large Cuban-American population. Salsa is religion to them. It is sensual and sexual: the woman is always at the control and scrutiny of her partner and his strength, confidence and protection are pervasive (and freaking hawt!) from difficult spinning moves to tightly close, staring-in-each-others-eyes dance steps.
There’s a good chance that I will have the opportunity to live in the U.K. in 2013. My guy has pretty much accepted a year-long program/assignment from an entity in Chelsea. How that affects (or may) my established routine is a world-class problem to have.
I love to cook but usually end up eating out local because of my sked (and I’m a lazy bones). Grams owned a small bakery and learned from her German mother the thrill of pleasing others through their palate. That was passed down. I keep it simple in the kitchen but, when I cook, try to make it special. That reminds me, I need to take out of the freezer boneless/skinless chicken thighs. (Salt, pepper and little panfry sear at high heat, into the 400 degree oven for 20 minutes or a minute or two less; let the chickie rest on a plate; into the same pan a shot of chardonnay, a ton of garlic, butter an entire lemon. Two minutes. Voila.)
Sending out tags a bit later.