Pursuing the poetical, paradoxical, metaphorical, lyrical, artistical, majestical, and mystical.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Only One Slice

Craig's aunt Sophie started to put on a little weight as she aged.  This was a hard working norwegian immigrant farm gal, probably pure muscle most of her life.  She asked the doctor about it and he suggested she only have one slice of bread instead of two.  

Sophie repeated his advice and her dilemma to the rest of the family over the next few days, and ended the story with a wink at whoever was in on the conspiracy at that moment with, "Yes, I'm only having one slice now, but I'll be sure to cut it tick"   

They didn't say 'th' so grandma Pearl would often say, "what on eart" and 1 & 2 'Corintians' etc.  

Right now, a big tick slice (the crust)  of warm homemade bread with butter slathered to the edge and some half frozen strawberry freezer jam covering it like a blanket, well ...... the little thing under my tongue is making extra juices in anticipation of digesting such a party in my mouth.  

Or graham crackers and milk with peanut butter.  Now I'm drooling.....  I could write a book about my love affair with peanut butter-on anything!  

Thankfully I can write about it and imagine it without acting on it.  Neither of those lovable foods are in the house.  

And I'm not pregnant, with justifiable cravings that used to persuade Craig into 'middle -of -the night- trips- to- the- store'  chores.  He's happily asleep, while I'm dreamin' awake of just one slice.....

May I say it?  Carbs make me really, really, really happy!     :)    I have a friend who is a professional marathoner who can't wait to run her daily 6 miles.  She says running makes her really, really happy.   

Hmmmm......ponder this with me, we both get high from a hit of our favorite drug.....only hers stays, lasts and gives her energy.  

I don't want to talk about it....    :)


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Oh honey, I miss the tick bread you used to make! Oh and the aroma my! My oh My. Well like mon used to say "maybe next year"

Mr. Loverby