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Sybaritic Sundays

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I had to resort to for a *real* definition of sybaritic. I knew (from reading all sorts of inappropriate material at too young an age) that it meant extreme luxury and/or wallowing in said luxury, but I didn’t know its origins. Turns out that Sybaris was a Greek city-state known for, you guessed it, the extremely luxurious lifestyle of its inhabitants, etc., etc.  I’m sure they drove the Spartans mad (if they overlapped in history or geography).

Alliteratively speaking, Sundays sings of sybaritic sleep. To wallow in blankets and burrow in pillows and ignore morning light in favor of the view inside my eyelids. To know all is quiet on the canine front; she, too, stays in bed, ocasionally stiffening her hairy dog legs with the pleasure of a good stretch. Sometimes she dreams–flexing her paws, wagging against the floor, making dream barks that sound like the Cowardly Lion trying to convince the audience of his courage.

What has this to do with my avowed purpose of discussing all things local? Nothing, except that it’s MY locale, this Sunday morning…note to self: either move computer closer to bed or communicate thoughts via mobile phone. Much more conducive to truly productive wallowing!


About ltbrwnhare

A real Ashevillain, from the fabled town of Asheville, NC. There aren't too many of us "from here" any more, but don't ask about the secret handshake. Few people know I blog; they think I work for corporate America. I do. Both. There's probably a secret handshake for that, too. You can think of me as a "locavore," if you like: someone who consumes local food and culture. I'm not just local, though--I like finding out interesting stuff from all over the place, traveling, tasting, reading, writing fiction (actually, I write non-fiction--I just don't let my family read it and get mad at me for spilling the beans. There are some pretty funky beans to spill, sometimes, but that's just a fact of life in the South...), and lots of other things. If I think of them, maybe I'll blog about them.

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