Can't you just taste it? Doesn't it just make you miss summer right about now?
Can't you just taste it? Doesn't it just make you miss summer right about now?
Vanilla custard with raspberries, blueberries and slices of thinly cut kiwi fruit, a small chunk of fresh pineapple, flaky almond crust. Small bites spread over an hour with a blue glass of icy cold milk. A dessert fork, lights dim not glaring. A peaceful Sunday night dessert.
Monday is cold and biting, raining, sleet. No place to go, to rush out the door. My dog is downstairs curled up on the couch, she looks like a sleeping fox. She, apparently, has no energy today either, I try to take her out but she looks at me with disdain.
She will not go. We look at each other wisely, we agree we should all move together to a warmer climate. “Florida?” I ask her. “California she murmurs, less humidity.” I agree immediately.”Someday” we agree.
We sit on the coach as we do every morning. Her body and paws on my lap, my arm around her head softly scratching behind her rusty colored ears, in her favorite place. We talk together. She tells me if we move she is scared to swim in the ocean, I tell her I totally understand. We will start very slowly until she feels comfortable or if not she can play in the sand. I wouldn’t force her to do anything, I’m not that kind of mom.
I never forced my children to do anything they didn’t want to do either, I just insisted on them having good manners and being respectful. They both are. I am so proud of your siblings, I whisper to the dog,and I am so proud of you.” I let her in on a secret: “they will be home very soon to visit you.” The dog looks up at me, her eyes brighten with interest. She knows when her brother comes home he will rough house with her, she knows when her sister comes home she will get extra hugs and kisses, mostly in private.
Everybody says we should not feed the dog at the table
but we all do except for dad, he is the strictest of the family. I just need a soft, warm, mushy look and my hand is out. Sister sometimes slips too and gives in not to mention grandma who gives pieces of food all the time, even to the dog’s cousin where it is really NOT allowed. “But it makes him so happy” she says, calling the dogs boys when they are both girls. It’s a language thing.It makes us all laugh.
It is finally time to get out of bed and take a hot shower, whether I want to or not. It is so cold in the house, I am shivering. Nothing motivates me except the amount of days I haven’t showered. I have accepted/relented to Winter because I have no choice. I will stay in as much as possible, that is my coping mechanism. I can’t fight it, I may as well hide from it. I’ve given in.
Time does not stand still, not at all. It breezes past, its bitterness a step away from me. I like it that way. If I don’t have to go out, I won’t. If I can’t live in a warm temperature, I will make the temperature warm in my house. I will only go out when I need to go out. Tomorrow, I need an EKG, just a three-month check-up, no biggie. I will go and I will come back, happy to be home. I will make a cup of tea with a spoon of honey
and I will appreciate that even more than usual. After that, I will sit once more, with my dog, lying on the bed and we will close our eyes, together. Nap time.
A STREAM OF BAD THINGS, HEARING ABOUT A WOMAN ATTEMPTING TO HURT HER CAT, A CHILD SCREAMING AND COULDN'T TRACE THE SOUND... AND EATING WAY TOO MUCH FOOD, ICE CREAM, COOKIES AND CANDY. NOT MONITORING MY EATING AND EATING EMOTIONALLY.....UH OH.
The fact that I am ( trying to) stop my out of control eating tomorrow does not make me feel better tonight. In fact it makes me feel worse because no matter what I look like or how much I weigh, I will always be that chubby girl who hated going shopping, out of pure dread and embarrassment, with my mother years ago.( still hate going shopping.) I can't even put together an outfit. It's been jeans and tee shirts and sneakers for the last 50 years or so. I can clean up nicely when I have to but then I am in excruciating pain having no shoes that are comfortable for more than three minutes. My new glasses are absolutely adorable, I cut my hair and I'm in pretty good shape (such a big fat lie) but for the last week I'm eating way too much.
Those same old symptoms are rearing their ugly monster heads like those green goober monsters in the cold decongestant commercials. Not just a “want” for food but a “need” to eat. It isn’t pretty.
It’s sugar, yes, pizza too, but deep-fried mozzarella sticks?
These looked especially delightful and my daughter did ask for me to help her eat them? How could I say no? That’s my point. In the past, I could have said “No thanks” very easily but yesterday, the breading was not just bread crumbs it had texture far more refined than even panko bread crumbs. Little bumps, a crispy and soft combination of thick breading with an ample amount of melting mozzarella cheese inside and a delicious tomato sauce to dip in.
I could have refused. I didn’t.
We all know that I have to love my dinner on Sundays, that’s a cardinal rule but did I have to love it that much that I needed two or three desserts? A pre-dessert and two or three others? No, no, no.
I love food way too much. Tonight, the last night of our family being home together, the night before my handsome son leaves to go back to school, we are going out for Chinese food which is basically mostly vegetables and rice. Right? I like to fool myself as much as possible. Except that after watching one of the food shows with my husband we saw a freshly made egg roll glistening on the television screen. I HAD to have it. For all the things I forget, this morsel was fresh in my mind.
I must have a little more control (tomorrow) to end this eating madness. I know I have no control over anything else in my life now, and I can’t change that so this IS one thing I can control. Eating healthier and getting more exercise???? I’m going to work on THAT NEXT.
record-breaking, heart attack making show was in one word, disgusting. It was Adam, a lot heavier, breaking stupid records for example if someone had eaten 15 triple cheeseburgers in a row, Adam, of course, would have to top it and eat 16. Ugh. It was not a pretty sight.
Ninety-nine percent of the time, he took the title which is why his weight probably ballooned up, I guess the restaurant has to win once in a while. Apparently now a thinner, but nastier Adam is in a Twitter/Instagram (?) fight about remarks he made to some fans which were really distasteful, ugly and insensitive. Not smooth Adam, not good for Public Relations. Your manager is probably eating themselves up in cronuts right about now.
I love this show Food Fighters which puts together talented home chefs against professional chefs to cook a meal. Of course, if you are like me, you are always rooting for the home chef to win and to wipe the smug grins of the celebrity chefs right off their faces.
Tonight’s episode featured a home cook that really seemed to need the money and I was rooting for her. She beat every single professional chef that was on the show winning a total of $100,000. I had tears in my eyes when she won. She had come from a bad place, was unemployed and really needed a new start. I’m not positive but I thought she said she was living and cooking for her brother and family. This win, gave her the opportunity to start over.
Aside from identifying too much with the contestant (which I did ) she was a woman you just wanted to cheer for. Her name was Elisha and the only thing I missed was a seat at the dinner table to taste her food and that of the celebrity chefs.
I LOVE THIS SHOW. I haven’t been this excited about a new show in a long time. Thank goodness for this, it’s the little things that make me happy, like the tiny sliver (okay big) slice of chocolate mousse cake
that I stole from my daughter’s birthday cake. Heaven. Moist, creamy, fudge-like icing, my husband was aghast with horror. “Since when have you walked over to the dark side?” What happened to Vanilla Girl?” he asked. I didn’t think it required an answer because basically I was eating the frosting and did not intend to distract myself with an answer.
As many of you know I tend to be VERY flexible when it comes to dessert. I like many different types of dessert and I will have a slice of cake over a scoop of ice cream any day. I eat ice cream, of course, but it has to be in warm weather, outside of Ben & Jerry’s, seated in their cow couch outside licking a cone with rainbow sprinkles. Rainbow sprinkles
make me incredibly happy. To me, they are what dreams are made of, my husband will only eat chocolate sprinkles or jimmies as they called them in Massachusetts.
It’s a particularly hard world out there now and very difficult for our family as well as many families that I know. We do what we can to cope with our situations but if an ice cream cone or a good cup of coffee, once in a while, makes you happy, I say, go for it. It might very well (no pun intended) perk you right up.
Just one blogger's thoughts. Allegedly.
thoughts are flying out of me so quickly i can’t even title them or remember what they are. all i know is that my stomach is one tight structure of steel, a steel ball of nerves and when i start back eating american cheese sandwiches you know i’m in bad shape and need a lot of comfort. things have been spiraling out of control for months now, i can’t write, i cant sleep i can’t but sometimes i eat too much, comfort food, cocolate, yes, I am one of those people who have two stomachs, one for meals and the other for dessert. sweet comforting dessert. dessert like a religion. please bless me. bless my family, i’m not sure how long my stomach strands can take this endless stretching. i see them like rubber bands stretched until they pop until they swing back and hit me bring me down even lower than i was before. no more talks to myself, cheery thoughts now just paralyzed in emotional pain.
too many bad thoughts invade my space in and out, there have been good days that i have been proud of and horrible days like today when he made a joke which made me burst into tears, humor like that is not appreciated. and when “annie hall” tweedle dee tweedle dumb said i have no time for you but if someone cancels… no she is supposed to hear my voice even if its transference that’s ok. cancellation, relaxation. a daughter in a day, a son in four.
we’re soul mates she said matter-of fact, that is not the first time I have heard that it it was nice to hear it again, soothing. no traveling, no trip, idunno, i dunno, job, start, maybe, maybe not.i need some answers to thees ongoing questions that keep coming up after another mystery is solved which opens up another scary category of medical ambiguity.
who thought it would be his heart? how can i not v isualize being there for my dad and mom and how dare she say she was there too, no, she was never there. no she was never ev er there for anyone but herself. what did elena say “wow,, shse really really hates herself.” that’s the only thing we agree on, apparently and she does not even know it.
spirits need to help me more but i need to find them first, name them, talk to them, reach out and i need to do the work for that when i am ready. t minus 2 why do i feel so alone? because i really truly am. my kids are still kids, its just a test, its just a test its just a test.
Oh stop, even I wouldn’t eat those two together although a light peanut sauce may go very nicely on filet of sole.
My point here is that I have become a different person and my husband doesn’t know what has happened to me and where I have gone. The trouble is I totally agree with him. Who am I?
I have “hated” fish all my life, the smell was repugnant to me and I would not even try it. We all know the “forced salmon” story that I wrote about when “my friend’s mother lied and told me it was tuna fish and FORCED me to eat it” and I don’t see that changing but mild fish is now a must-have. It’s opened up a whole new world of eating experiences. So much more to choose from, it’s exciting.
It started out with a tiny bite of my husband’s file of sole with lemon, butter and caper sauce he ordered at a restaurant. I had ordered a cheeseburger and we always exchange bites or share. I gave him my too- bloody cheeseburger. He cleverly offered me a taste of his dish. He said he liked mine more than his when he saw me eying his delicate dish, I fell for it. Love that man, loved the fish. Afterwards he grinned and laughed like a 6-year-old. Of course he said our favorite 28-year-old saying “sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.” He won.
Now, I don’t skip past the seafood section I look at it first. It feels so light in my stomach, the only disadvantage is that in two hours I’m hungry again but that’s what snacks are for. I don’t eat very much red meat at all but when I do, I want it to be small and good quality. After that, it will be back to fish, chicken, salad, eggs and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with pleasure.
Sometimes there are things in our world that just don’t make sense. Texture can play a big part. I love my hot cup of strong cup of coffee every morning but coffee ice cream or mocha, edible coffee beans? I wouldn’t go out of my way to order it. I do not like peanuts but love smooth peanut butter, chunky if I must. So when my husband’s dessert came with peanut butter ice cream instead of our beloved hazelnut, discontinued, we were not happy. My husband tried it and liked it and well, of course I had to keep him company.
I put the spoon of ice cream in my mouth, just the tip and it wasn’t….dreadful. It was like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups that I once assumed (again, another stupid assumption) that I thought I didn’t like but do. A little went a long way but I have to admit that ice cream was very, very tasty.
Be open to new foods, textures, tastes. Even at my old, ripe age you can discover so many new things to eat and drink (still working on the drink part) but water is best for me anyway. Here’s to new great food and water with lemon, hold the ice please, and as always, definitely leave room for dessert. Every. Single. Time.
HELP WANTED: LOOKING FOR A SCONE ASAP OR EASY RECIPE
Yes, it’s true. I AM CRANKY and I don’t even need to explain it. I know. That’s enough. I don’t want pity and I can’t change the situations. My physical health, sigh, I have to accept. I’ll live. However, when my life’s joy, (vice,) hobby and life’s work is limited then it gets darned serious. No, I am not on a diet. That would be easy. I wish I was on a diet because there would be a reason and an outcome and a desired result.
But, with my bad luck, I have to be the one whose jaw blows out whose sound carried through the house leaving me shrieking in unbearable pain and crying that my husband came running. I knew I should have gone to the ER.
I saw my dentist, an oral surgeon and now I’m supposed to see a TMJ specialist. I’m not surprised, it was just another thing to heap on but for me, this was a personal tragedy. Not being able to EAT? I don’t like drinking or smoking or anything else, I have no hobbies but one thing I love is food and now that has been taken away from me. I’m yearning for real food that is not mashed, white, banana-like or blended.
And even if I tried to like drinking I have recently been informed that my kidneys are in bad shape too. Surprise!
I’m sick of chicken soup, vanilla milkshakes, rice and bananas. I long for warm, crunchy French bread dripping with butter, a large sandwich, basically anything I am now denied. I still want scones, pizza and a great big salad and did I mention scones?
I can’t bear to call another doctor tonight. I’m in no mood. It’s almost time for dinner, home-made chicken soup with mashed up Saltines in them, I learned that from my kids. Luckily, we have cupcakes from yesterday, they better taste good. I need something before I start to scream.
The oral surgeon also said that this pain will come back that some internal bleeding happened when the disk in my jaw slipped. He’s a nice guy, a really nice guy, he didn’t even charge for the five-minute consult but I wish he hadn’t said what he did.
I’m hungry, I want to eat real food, Last night I rebelled and tried (the operative word) to eat teeny, tiny bites of pizza with fork and knife (a la Diblasio ) which really was no fun at all and of course the pizza WAS BURNED.
Out of pure desperation I ate my husband’s filet of sole drenched in egg and butter: I don’t even like fish but it was something different.
BUT, I want scones, surely I could eat those, sweet scones made with love and wild blueberries, I see them dancing beneath my eyes.
I wish I could bake with ease. With all my illnesses I just may have to acquire a new skill: baking. No more liquid diet. ‘Eat as if you were a three-year old” the charming doctor said. I will listen to him, cutting everything up into tiny pieces, everything for a taste of variety.
I’m stuck on muffins and stones. Any kind. Soon. Help me. Please?
For years I was the type of person that would not start eating her popcorn until the movie started, the official movie. I would wait out the commercials, the “Exit” sign warnings, the “Please Do Not Disturb Your Neighbors” and “No Smoking” announcements. I didn’t even start eating my popcorn during the previews which to me, are almost as good as the movie itself. I had rules, my own strict, self-imposed rules.
Until last night where I saw the movie “Gloria” and as soon as we sat down and immediately I began munching on the popcorn and sipping Diet Coke. Hey, look at me! I surprised myself and then thought, “what on earth have I been waiting for all these years?”
Delayed gratification is fine when you are young and you want to save the best for last. The way I used to eat “fruit cocktail” or “fruit cockentail” as one of my kids used to call it was representative of my style. I would eat the most banal fruits first, picking out the pears and eating them first. Then I would sequester the peaches and eat them after that. Next to last would always be the plump, juicy grapes, it was a close tie for first and second but really who could not have the fake cherries as their number one favorite. I mean really, I was a kid.
I think if I would have it now (and don’t put it past me) I would take a spoonful of everything right up front, maybe sequester a few grapes for the end. The squishiness in my mouth is utterly delightful. But, the cherries? No big deal anymore. They don’t elicit the same excitement as they used to do when I was little. In fact, they have no taste.
Maybe growing up and getting older you realize you don’t have to wait to the end to enjoy the best things last. Why wait? I’ve always been surprised when my daughter used to read a book’s ending before starting it. This to me was unheard of but you know what? I kind of understand it now.
I don’t think I could ever do it, it’s just not my style but I understand her now, apparently she was a better teacher than I was. She always wanted to see her birthday cake as soon as it came in the door unlike her brother who wanted to wait until the last second, when I would come in with the candles lit. I admit it, I am more like he is.
I’m learning from my two kids, more and more. I love it.
I don’t see leaves on the branches through my windows anymore. I miss the lush colors of red, orange and yellow that greeted me in the daytime, gleaming from the sun. As Winter approaches and I tend to recede indoors I know that some of my winter friends are rejoicing at the prospect of snow in the near future. Honestly, I cannot relate to that one bit. I hate being cold and the fact that “you can always put on more layers” does nothing for me. When I am cold, it goes right through my body to my bones probably because I have Fibromyalgia. Cold not only hurts, it stabs repeatedly.
I drink a mug of tea, with milk and a spoonful of glistening, amber honey. It’s nice as long as the tea lasts which is probably five or six minutes. My stomach is warm and I relish the flavor but after, nothing of the warmth or the taste remains. Cold air seeps through our brand new windows.
This is the worst time of year for me, the end of Autumn, when we turn the clocks back an hour. Sure, it’s nice for that one day to get that “extra” hour of sleep ( a concept that I will never understand ) but one we pay for dearly. Winter lasts much too long for me.
I admire the skiers, snow boarders, ice skaters, I think if I had a hobby outside in the freezing temperatures it would make me happier. The only thing I enjoy in the winter at a ski lodge is drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows from a ceramic mug. I was never athletic and having “loose” bones all I need to do is trip, anywhere, and an ankle or wrist breaks and is in a cast for weeks, I’ve been in that black boot way too many times.
The only thing I like about this season is watching and listening to the birds and their songs. I fill the bird feeders regularly, that is my outdoor hobby. I sit inside and watch them play and fly and eat. I listen to the birds’ sweet songs, watch the cardinal couples flying back and forth through the trees to feed each other and to sing happily. I love that they come in couples. They bring me the only piece of joy in the long winter months. At least I have that.
Not having utensils does not stop a sugar obsessed person from eating her leftover key lime pie for dessert. Why should it? My daughter had leftovers from her chocolate cake too. “We have no utensils” my daughter mentioned politely. That, as a problem, had never crossed my mind. My mind was on the authentic, Florida, key lime pie, the half sour, half sweet piece of juicy pie waiting for me to take a large bite. The utensil issue was really just a technicality. I grinned at my daughter and said “So? we use are hands!”
It was our first vacation alone together and we were having fun. Seeing me grab my key lime pie, take a big bite out of it and looking quite pleased with myself, grinning widely, she was happy to put her chocolate cake in her hand and take a bite. Isn’t that what vacations are for? To be able to do things like this and not be judged? (We weren’t in the restaurant, We were alone in our room.) It was definitely one of the high points of the trip for me. So, I’m a little addicted to dessert, there are certainly worse things, I don’t smoke, I don’t drink (much to the disgust of my two teenagers) and I’m not addicted to crack cocaine. An oatmeal raisin cookie occasionally or a piece of marzipan ( I’m drooling) after a well-balanced meal just makes me happy.
I would gladly give up all potatoes and pasta in the world, ( Sorry Nona) if I could have dessert and generally that’s what I do. I pass on the carbohydrates there, which pretty much don’t interest me, and save it up for what I really care about, dessert. The only thing I have a tough time with is if there is really good ( son-approved warm) bread on the table, then I’m down and out. Or, if I’m lucky, there will be nothing on the dessert menu that I want to order, that’s a win-win situation. I want dessert but if there is nothing on the menu I want, I don’t order it anyway. I do have my standards. I save those calories and carbs for the next time I really want something and I know, that will be very, very soon.
I love food way too much to give some things up entirely, so eating smaller portions is key and yes, I am finally forcing myself to drink more water. I really don’t like it any more than I did but I got so sick of every doctor telling me to do it, I just gave in. Is it my drink of choice? No, but it is certainly healthier than any chemical diet soda which I now limit. Lately, if I want something to drink that tastes good I get a mixture of cranberry and pineapple juice. There’s sugar, sure, but at least there is nothing artificial.
It’s Sunday, we all need to love our dinner, it’s a tradition in our house actually it’s been a tradition since I was six years old. It’s been decided, tonight is pizza and salad (maybe some bread too) and that’s okay because there is no cake or pie lurking in the refrigerator. There’s only ice cream which for me is just a source of calcium, so it doesn’t count at all.
Hope everyone enjoys their dinner tonight.