It all started during a recent office visit. The doctor took my pulse, and asked, “Are you a runner?”
“Not unless someone is chasing me,” I replied (See my blog post “Not quite born to run" for further proof).
“Hmm ... let me take it again,” he said, at which point I knew I was dying.
I tried to breathe normally as he held my wrist, but my life flashed before my eyes. What would it be? Brain tumor? Cancer? Some mutated swine flu syndrome?
Finally, he looked up at me and gave me the news: “You have a very low pulse.”
“Yes, doctor,” I said. “And …”
“You didn’t hear this from me, but you could probably benefit from a little salt and caffeine in your diet.”
Well, needless to say, he didn’t have to tell me twice.
I immediately cut out decaf tea and switched to leaded (so much better in the morning), yet I couldn’t bring myself to knowingly add salt into my diet. But as fate would have it, that was the weekend we discovered Peanut Point.
We were spending another weekend at my parents’ lake house as part of our staycation (which is another word for “Broke”). But, hey, a lake house, I’m not complaining!
We were cruising in the family pontoon boat when we happened upon a small island. Upon that island was a little white shack and surrounding that shack looked like the biggest family reunion I have ever seen – old folks, young folks, middle-aged and lots of youngsters, all swimming, eating and enjoying lake life.
And in the midst of it all were several huge pots of boiled peanuts with a hand-painted sign above it that read, “Peanut Point - $2 a bag.” Tired and hungry, we pulled our boat up to the sandy beach. A bikini-clad grandma scooped out two bags of hot, messy peanuts - one Cajun, one regular, both extra salty – just what the doctor ordered.
Apparently, my body did need salt because we went back to the lake every weekend expressly for the peanuts. The last weekend we were there we bought eight bags. Any leftovers, I’d bring home and eat cold.
And on one of the relaxing boat rides out to Peanut Point, it dawned on me that my head didn’t hurt. Whether it was the stress-free lifestyle or the peanuts, who’s to say. Now that summer is drawing to a close, and we haven’t been able to make it to the lake, my headaches have returned, even on the weekends. I went back to the doctor and got an armload of pills, but just in case, I think I will try to make some boiled peanuts first. You never know.
(By the way, my friend and fellow blogger Kathy Bohannon prompted this blog with her post about her brother’s recipe. Check it out here.)