I was in the low-budget grocery store today seeing what looked good and one thing looked really good - the kale. 99 cents for a bunch. It looked really good. I went home with some and got the onions I had baked in the shell yesterday and squeezed them out of their shells into a frying pan in which I had melted a dab of butter along with a 1/16-in. layer of coconut oil, all sticky, juicy and slimy, sliced them a bit, threw on some (dry) grits, cumin and a dash of garlic powder, and browned them to go with hot steamed Japanese style rice, cold, light-red kidney beans and the kale, which I had washed nicely. And of course, I used chopsticks, and devoured that pile of snorse like a horse. Whatever. Japanese rice makes that there kind of thing not only irresistible but you can't help snarfing it as fast as you dare.

Timpanogos

Recalling the time Caleb and I spent a day on Mt Timpanogos, we took our time in the meadows, rock fields and slides just below the peak. We noticed the flowers, the rocks, the animals, and realized it all had been deliberately arranged into a most beautifully designed garden. We knew no rangers or volunteers with the park service had done it. We realized God had done it deliberately. So we basked all day in the upper meadows and saddles and then watched the sun cast its last blaze of glory upon the peaks to contrast the shadow filling the upper basin like black water. We lay on our backs, on boulders on the rock slide below the peak and looked straight up at the cliffs. We bathed in the quiet foreboding of the mountain. It's big and scary. I told Caleb I had always felt a strong haunting from that, like I could feel the spirits of indians who had passed before. But I know that God is not in the wind nor the rock, it only seems that way sometimes. And it is easy to understand how the indian and the priest felt something, just as we did. While it was yet day, we observed other hikers. Hiking was their purpose. They tromped past, up the mountain. They marched back down at a chipper pace, not looking left or right - a happy occupation among so much beauty, when one enjoys good health and a spring in their step. It was plain to see that they did not see how the garden had been deliberately arranged. Their purpose was to hike the mountain and get back home in time for things they needed to be home for. But our purpose, Caleb and I, was to be in the mountain. So when one opens the scriptures, it is good to have the purpose of immersing oneself and being in there rather than getting something read or thinking about how much they have left to read - getting from A to B, so that they can go on to the next thing. Similarly, Sunday was ordained of God. His guarantee is that you need not give any thought to your workaday troubles or things on this planet, for one day out of every seven. He has you covered if you stop, get off, and go see Him for a day. See also Isaiah 58.

Last night and today, my recent experience of unprecedented independence from insulin (which had subsided) came back in yet another unprecedented manifestation. I mean, including the recent experience (I told about it on facebook, not here), I NEVER had anything like THIS. Last night, I ate a regular supper, not too strict, not too indulgent, but substantial. I don't know how many units of insulin I took but it was something like 3-6, but normally, I would have had a little extra after finishing. Not this time. This time, my sugar dropped to 55 when I was expecting it to go a little high. Didn't think too much about it but then this morning, instead of my minimum necessary 4 units for breakfasts, I decided to take only 2, in light of last night, and proceeded to eat another not-too-strict and substantial breakfast, after which my sugar again dropped like a rock. (normally, regardless of how little I eat for breakfast, sometimes even if I don't eat at all, I need a minimum of 4 units. Mornings are much more (injected) insulin-dependent than eveingings, for me) It was like any amount of injected insulin over the last 24 hours was too much - as if I were a normal person. And like I said on fb the other week, I haven't even been exercising at all, nor have I been eating strict, nor have I even been thinking about any of it, much less trying to cut back my insulin shots.

Now and again, I fix myself a full course meal and have to exclaim it was the best I had ever tasted and far better than anything I ever had from any chef. Is that because in cooking for myself, I know what I like? I suppose. But also I think I just get plain lucky. But not just luck, I apparently have a knack. Because if I ever follow a recipe or measure anything, just like when I am doing mechanic work, my eye is more accurate, so when I use measuring tools, cooking or wrenching, it seems to turn out wrong. But when I just use my eye, just like I do (and everyone else I hope) when I make a pb&j or something like that, it turns out great. Well, here's what such a meal I had tonight: Frozen and breaded Maryland Blue crab cake (which I was told to deep fry), thawed, heated a minute in the microwave, and then fried in a pan in butter, both sides. Rice from the rice cooker, done to perfection. Which means you do it soft but not soggy, dry but not burst. You steam it till just before it wants to burst. And you let it scorch by turning the cooker on again a time or two and then let it sit without taking the lid off till it has a chance to un-stick itself from the bottom. Salad: Plenty of Romaine, rutabaga slivers - right amount, a little broccoli, slice green onions - just the right amount, cucumbers (peeled), tomato, enough fresh ginger to not be too little, but not too much to where it is in every bite (in salads, you want it to show up every now and again for that "MMMM! SO goood!" surprise), mayo, Annie's Tuscan Italian. Tip: You got to ALWAYS have more than plenty of rice!