Key locks, pesticides and mothers day

Completely random observation for the day: I like the sound of doors locking and unlocking.

I'm super cranky, sick and having a post trip (internal) meltdown, but I just got pulled out of my narcissitic "the sky is falling" syndrome by unlocking the garage door (hey, sometimes it's the small things in life). Some things just sound like adulthood, (and in this case have always sounded like adulthood).  For me, a key turning in a lock is one of them. For responsible people like my husband it's probably the sound the keyboard makes when you push enter on paying the bills. Lock tumblers falling into place carry a certain bit of power and potential in the sound. I'll be bummed when that becomes completely smartified. Which makes me wonder what "sound" the older generation thinks of in regards to bill paying?

Today is Mothers Day, and I've never been a big fan of the holiday. Not because of its lack of "inclusivity" or because I have any true pain associated with the holiday, but more or less because we used to have so many other cooler holidays.  In the book Observations on the Popular Antiquities of Great Britain: Chiefly Illustrating the Origin of Our Vulgar and Provincial Customs, Ceremonies, and Superstitions (written in the thoroughly modern year of 1795) , May Day they used to dance around apple trees and drink at each others houses! Who voted that one out in favor of a holiday where you simultaneously post pictures of your mother and ingest social media rants about how complicated the holiday is?  Throw in a mimosa and sign me up.  

My own mother deserves an entire year dedicated to her experience as a mother. Her super power was not in a clean house or ballet lessons (which I really wanted and never got), but in her utter devotion to us kids. As each of my siblings became a complete turd (which hits late in our family) I saw first hand that we could axe murder someone and our mother would still live, bleed and die for us (although she'd probably be the first one to call the cops).  I used to rant about how I had to do the dishes, cook, clean, get up at night with younger children, and toss books out the window so I wouldn't get caught reading on the job. But it worked out ok since I still do all of those things and sorta love it (I don't toss books out the window anymore though, since that would mean throwing my phone).  

People keep asking me about the food in Italy, and several people who have been to Rome, confessed they thought the food was maybe a bit bland. Tangentially, when I travel to Ohio (where I eat the majority of my Italian food) I chow down enough probiotics and enzymes to stock a hospital because my intestines cannot handle all of the gluten and cheese.  In Rome I went fully prepared to suffer the consequences of eating pasta and pizza every day. I was so busy though, and preoccupied, it was the whole 'you only notice bad things", and I didn't realize how good I felt until I got home and felt terrible again.  I was recently diagnosed with silent reflux after thinking I had a permanent sore throat.  They stuck a scope down my throat, diagnosed me and sent me home with antacids. In Italy, I had no sore throat and no other digestive problems. I have no idea if it's entirely in my head or anecdotal, but I wonder if there's some sort of connection with the "bland" food and it maybe being due to a lack of preservatives, taste enhancers and the like. Or maybe it really is all the pesticides Europe has banned but are still legal in the United States? Or maybe the answer to all of life’s woes is wine and walking 8 miles a day.

I better get started.