It’s warmed up quite considerably in Seattle over the last week, for which I am grateful. As I grow further into middle age, I have less and less tolerance for “extreme” cold, which I put in quotes because I know darn well that temps in the mid-twenties do not constitute extreme cold—I grew up in Alaska and Upper Michigan, so I know what true cold is. Or at least I thought I did, until I recently watched a video on Newfoundland seal hunters. Those guys knew what cold is—they routinely trudged out to ice floes in the North Atlantic, sometimes falling into the water and having to make their way back to their ship soaking wet in wind chills of below 30. Why was I watching a video on Newfoundland seal hunters, you ask? I couldn’t really say, except that it popped up on a YouTube channel I enjoy called Scary Interesting, which covers all manner of disasters and mysterious disappearances. This particular video covered the famous 1914 catastrophe that led to 132 men being stranded on ice floes for two nights, 77 of whom perished. It’s a fascinating and also very frustrating story, because it was a completely preventable tragedy that occurred due to the fateful decision to remove the wireless communication device from the ship because it was deemed an unnecessary expense. I can’t embed the video, but click here if you would like to satisfy your morbid curiosity.
It’s been a while since I’ve provided a diamond painting update. With with the passing away of my mother and all manner of general chaos going on, I haven’t been a prolific diamond painter of late, but here is my progress so far:
Diamond Art Club continues to ply me with links to their new releases, but for some reason, none of them have captured my heart. I just like Bathroom in Paris. I want none other. I am a diamond painting monogamist, apparently. Or, my maybe my tastes are becoming fuddy-duddy. I’m not interested in dragons, witches, wizards, or big-eyed fairy creatures. I haven’t seen a landscape I like in some time. And I don’t care about the Marvel stuff or the pop culture stuff or the Harry Potter stuff. I have faith that one day, DAC will present me with an irresistible image that I can’t sleep at night without possessing, but cats playing chess and AI-generated psychedelia is not cutting for me. I’ll wait.
It was a momentous occasion this week when I found a protein drink that I actually like the taste of and that doesn’t have the fatal flaws of every other protein drink I have tried since I started weight lifting. I’ve sampled a myriad of them in an attempt to up my protein consumption without adding tons of extra calories, and I have hated all of them. They are either too chalky, too sweet, too thick, too milky, or rife with that horrible stevia aftertaste. I had given up on ever finding one I could drink without gagging. But in a moment of kismet during my weekly grocery shop, I happened to come across an open pallet of a new protein drink I hadn’t seen before. It looked like they were just getting it onto the shelves for the first time. I grabbed one, figuring it was worth a shot. I was astonished when I took a few tentative swallows after my workout and realized that it was perfect. It has a light but creamy texture, a very pleasing, non-cloying vanilla flavor, and there is no aftertaste at all. It’s 170 calories and provides 26 grams of protein, which in my mind is a good calorie-to-protein ratio. It’s like the Goldilocks of protein drinks. It shall, from here on out, be My Drink. A perfect, no-guesswork post-workout meal replacement. I feel like I’ve waited forever. If you want to know the brand, reach out on my socials.
--Kristen McHenry
Fantabulously eclectic writing! 😻