Screaming Supper

I rinsed off the sweet potato and slit the skin open so that it wouldn't explode in the microwave; bing bing, 8 minutes, walk away.  Three minutes later, I hear screaming coming from the kitchen.  Not steam hissing or motor whirring, but a high-pitched, whining scream like an animal was caught in the living room while Dad showed home movies of Aunt Millie's Big Day at the Farm Bureau.

Did a cat get caught somewhere?  What the hell is the matter with the microwave?  WHERE IS THE SCREAMING COMING FROM?  The microwave!  It was emitting loud, piercing shrieks, I kid you not; the carousel was smoothly turning, nothing was jammed.  It was the sweet potato.  It was cutting loose with the death screams of a tuber.  I have never heard a vegetable this loud, unless you count the exploding chestnuts in the oven.  I was hypnotized into watching it spin and scream.  How could the release of steam cause such a blast of sound?  It went for a good two minutes, until the opening softened as it cooked, no longer performing as a reed for the escaping steam.  It was weird.  But something to look forward to, especially as I am cutting out the green smoothie trial.

The kale thing is over for me; a phone call to my thyroid doc explained that it was entirely possible that the lack of energy and feeling lousy could be due to the increase of this green wonderfood in my diet.  I know that I'm to limit cruciferous vegetables to three cups a week, which for me makes no sense for there is not a better green vegetable than Brussels sprouts.  I love cabbages, cauliflower, broccoli, mustard, horseradish; however,  high intake blocks the thyroid from using iodine, which directly affects metabolism.  You can boil them for thirty minutes to make them safe, like my Mom did, cooking everything till it was gray.

Iodine information: http://www.whfoods.com/genpage.php?tname=nutrient&dbid=69

I usually don't like posting links in a blog, but too many of my friends have thyroid problems, and dang if I knew this myself.

Next, in other health news, the protein powder that I had been using tastes like ground up dried peas and is brown, turns anything you mix it with brown, and no matter what flavor is listed on the canister, is always brown.  Today I read the ingredients label and nope, no peas there, but a pickup truck full of sprouts and fiber takes up two thirds of the list.  And then the word "natto" appears.  Natto?  Oh good glory.

A few years back, I went Japanese in packing my lunch; I tried different seaweeds, fish cakes, noodles, fun, fun, fun.  Let's get serious and try natto, a fermented product that looks like brown beans in white, stringy slime which was left in the back of the cave too long.  On the outside of the package was a Japanese grandmother in a rocking chair, with a bowl in her lap while two small children expectantly sat at her feet, all three smiling.  Good grandmas feed their children natto so they can grow up and become ambitious and smart.  If they're at all smart, they'll stay away from this stuff.

The beans in natto are soybeans, which are not as cracked up as they are often claimed to be.  Generally not a problem as I hate tofu and any incarnation of it; further, but soy is also a goitrogen that  interferes in allowing the thyroid gland to do its job.  No wonder I was feeling lousy while eating healthier food; for the majority of the population, it's fine; if there are thyroid issues, be aware that you may be messing up your metabolism.  Stick with iodized salt, not the artsy sea salt; and eat more eggs, turkey, coconut oil, whole grains and oysters which are foods rich in the minerals and other nutrients needed for thyroid health.  The Mayo Clinic has a good list of things you should eat.

Tonight the sky is filled with the constellations of spring; Taurus, Gemini, and the two most recognized, the Big Dipper and Orion.  Lucky you if you can view the movement of stars and planets; an inexpensive pair of binoculars will get you even closer to the rings of Saturn;  I saw them once, great yellow expanses of dust, the dust which composes you and I.  Funny how some things you only have to see one time to remember them always; the Aurora Borealis, a green flash which fell from the sky, an Amanita caesarea, a black rat snake sunning himself by our patio when we lived out in the sticks.  That was the day Mom screamed and threw her laundry basket up to the sky and wouldn't get the clothes till Dad came home.  The snake had reared it's head back, most likely to get out of the way as rat snakes are pretty docile and all snakes are deaf as posts, but to Mom that was reason to yell at me to get in the house and lock the door, as if Mr. Snake-ity Snake would ring the bell.  I will say she outdid the sweet potato in decibels.

Today I saw a rabbit come flying over the embankment next to the parking lot, settle down and start on the tiny blades of new grass just appearing.  He could care less that I was banging around, filling car fluids.  Further up the hill, the woodchuck stuck his head up out of his burrow, observing the interloper rabbit disapprovingly.  I hauled a hubcap to the dumpster, and as I came back, the rabbit was next to my car, unfinished in shedding his winter coat.  Not too scared of me at all, maybe I was giving off my Here BunnyBunny vibes.  Back under the car hood I went, and scurrying along the fence inside the parking lot came the woodchuck, headed my way; now, woodchucks are damn nasty and will take a chunk out of your finger. The one that they drag out of his hole on February 2nd has got to be drugged;  I shooshed this miscreant away, he turned tail and waddled off.  Seagulls wanted to know if there were any Doritos from under the car seat, the feral cats lolled in the sun.  In spite of living downtown amid tall buildings, I am surrounded by Walt Disney characters.

Sleep well with the knowledge that the rabbits are down in their hidden nests, the woodchucks snore and mutter in their dreams, heads are under wings, and the rat snake is comfortably coiled maybe with Mrs. Rat Snake.  The stars wheel as the gears of heaven move forward another orrery cog, and there will be a sunrise, just so, as there has been each day for billions of years passed.  Time disappears when we sleep, bodies fall limp, the subconscious rules and tends to business.  Surrender, abdicate, float on the ocean of Morpheus; to sleep, stargazer.