A Bath and a Glass of Wine

The latter, of course, is a much more guilty pleasure than the first. To be precise, it was more like half a glass of wine. Really, it could have been a better glass of wine. It is one of the Spanish reds that we return to occasionally--Sangre de Torro, a granacha-carineña blend from Catalonia. Vintage is 2004. But I found it uncharacteristically sweet, and the "bite" that I like in a good red was delayed, and further back in the throat than I expected. I like the "bite" to hit more on the tongue. Oddly, it almost tasted like it wanted to become a dessert wine, but hadn't been given the opportunity to do so. I like the granacha (or grenache), but my favorite red is a tempranillo. And my favorite tempranillo right now is Borsao (tempranillo-granacha, actually), which has displaced the Marques de Caceres in our preference (possibly because the vitange we enjoyed is now a reserve!--which happens, I guess, in time. . .). Nevertheless, the effect was a nice one--very calming. Clearly, I don't believe that a small amount of alcohol while pregnant is dangerous. And I so rarely drink wine, don't like beer that much (although I have had a few sips throughout the pregnancy), and drink harder things fewer than once a year, that there is no danger of overindulgence.

I believe wholeheartedly in the wonders of baths, quite separate from mere cleanliness, as I believe I have mentioned at the end of a previous post, as well as in a comment on DarwinCatholic. I am particularly of bubble baths, though I find that adults are supposed to indulge, instead, in fragranced bath "soaks," moisturizing bath "oils," and all manner of other non-foamy perfumed bath experiences that are inferior at best. I have the additional problem that, while I love all manner of bath products, I live in a household with allergy sufferers, and increasingly, with pregnancy especially, highly perfumed bath products irritate my nose also (I attribute this to an increase in the perfume content of the products). When my husband & I were dating, we frequented Bath & Body Works; he is unable to set foot in the place now for fear of an assault on his sinuses. :( I entered alone yesterday however (and he eventually joined me), unable to resist their semi-annual sale. I was able to pick up some more natural products from Couvent des Minimes and C. O. Bigelow, as well as (my personal favorite of yesterday's purchases) a wonderful fragrance that I discovered in their aromatherapy line--Sandalwood Rose. It is a gentle sandalwood that actually reminds me of a certain blend of incense that our former pastor favored for feast days, and it creates a wonderful sense of calm. I found not only a shower gel, but that rare item--a "foaming bath"! I will relish this discovery, and I will sleep well tonight.

Exercise and the Academic

I have come to a realization recently that, having put into writing, I can not longer take back or deny, even to myself (barring catastrophic server failure--my how the "rules" of literacy are changed in the online environment!); namely, that exercise does increase intellectual productivity. I will revisit this post in my months of sloth later this semester, when I am lamenting all of the things I have to do, seemingly lacking the energy to do them. Exercise is something that I enjoy when I do it regularly, but that, in times of sloth, I look back on with fear and loathing. Why? I'm not sure. Perhaps what I remember is the sweatiness, not the faint pleasure and self-satisfaction that comes from slightly sore muscles or the pleasure of the warm bath afterwards (preferably with bubbles). Or I dwell on the seeming impossibility of making time to visit the rec center, the embarrassment of taking out fitness tapes in the living room, the worry that the yoga mat will get trampled by dirty feet. . . So having overcome all of these things, primarily because of Target's display of fitness items in the dollar (in this case, $2.50) spot in the front of the store, and having warmed up to the idea of exercise by playing a few rounds of Dance, Dance Revolution Mario Mix (I only do the Mario version), I have found that I actually do domestic tasks and perform intellectual acts in the same day. Trust me, this is a profound difference for me. I am actively working on the dissertation and preparing for the course I will be teaching starting next Tuesday, and I have even mustered the will to visit the library rather than having the items delivered to me electronically or via my very accommodating husband, who works there and pampers me by dutifully responding to any random Library of Congress call numbers I happen to send him during the day. I can only attribute these things to exercise, which I know gives physical energy, but which I've never found to deliver mental energy.

So I was thinking, what does this do to our image of the sedentary academic? You know, that outdated image that (for me anyway) still holds some charm--the "ivory tower" image, where the white male professor in tweeds collects dust among his books while writing his books. It occurs to me that the film (and play) Educating Rita exploits and subverts this image by portraying Frank, the professor, as depressed and frequently, a slobbering drunk. A lovable, crotchety, burned-out husk of a man, played brilliantly by Michael Cain. I also admit to having in mind the figure of J. R. R. Tolkien, who was incredibly prolific with his fantasy, enjoyed plenty of social intercourse with the Inklings, and also published the occasional scholarly work while reading, taking notes, teaching, learning ancient Scandinavian languages and the like. He had the tweed thing going on, and could be envisioned spending hours in a musty, dusty room. It does occur to me, however, that he loved to walk--to hike, more specifically, and that Professor Ransom in Lewis's Space trilogy--an active guy who goes on Australian-esque "walkabouts"--was in fact based on Tolkien. This specific example can perhaps be considered with the general walkability of college campuses built before--or largely in scorn of--automobiles. I have always wanted to attend such a college: brick buildings, large (undiseased) trees of various sorts, pavements (not concrete), ponds, etc. Alas! for state school aesthetics. In the past, or perhaps still in other places (with more walkable climates!), academics were, indeed, active. All this by way of trying to motivate myself to get some exercise each day. Whew!

Some other intellectual stimulants: warm baths and Republic of Tea Blackberry Sage Tea. That second one is especially important. They market it as a "Tea of Wisdom"--believe them. It does something to the brain--stimulates thought, cures headaches--beyond the power of ordinary caffeine. It is also a mood-altering drug with no counter indications.

Tea and baths; I am a hobbit indeed. Let's not even talk about mushrooms! So to end in a hobbitish fashion:

"Sing hey! for the bath at close of day
that washes the weary mud away!
A loon is he that will not sing:
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!"