I Quit Sugar!

I quit sugar!

Sure I did. In my dreams. I am eating a lot, lot less of it these days but if you live in America and eat out ever, you are gonna eat sugar - salad dressing, marinara sauce, soup, ketchup.  Oh it's there.  Hiding in everything.  Virtually all processed foods also include the white stuff.

The first thing that happens when I go cold turkey is that I get a headache. It lasts for three days. I realize that this is withdrawal but that doesn't make me feel better.  Headaches are no fun at all.  

Next I have strong cravings. I crave lots of different foods but what they all have in common is sweetness. This is excruciating because a stalk of celery is not satisfying when what you really want a big bowl full of Breyers and I can't even put peanut butter on it because - you guessed it - mine has sugar in it.

It takes three full weeks before I realize something amazing is happening. My food now tastes delicious and flavorful. Fruit tastes sweet. Really sweet.  Some foods taste saltier too.  Really salty.  I didn't expect that.

Finally, I understand when people eat a bite of dessert and say, “It's too sweet to eat.” I always thought that these people were twisted show-offs needing attention. I now realize I was probably born addicted. I feel liberated.

But this is America. Here we celebrate with junk food. Halloween comes. I eat three mini-Snickers and a Butterfingers. I try not to beat myself up. The next morning I don't feel so good. Hmmm....

I'm a slow learner.  Thanksgiving comes. Pie.

Airport candy bowl

Christmas is THE WORST. My sister comes and makes homemade peanut brittle. I cave.  

Summer's here.  The holidays are long gone. I've been back on the wagon a while but lately I've been eating a piece of very dark chocolate after meals for its “health benefits." Still, it's only one piece.  And it's supposedly healthy for you.  See how easily I can rationalize?  It's a talent, really.

Dove came out with a dark chocolate dipped dried cherry. I bought a bag at WalMart. I told myself I'd only eat one piece a day after a meal.

In the parking lot, I ripped open the bag. I ate three pieces. The next day, I look at the nutritional information on the side of the bag. It says there are four servings inside. I look inside the bag. There is one cherry left and a few chocolate shards.

So much for quitting sugar.

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Thanksgiving

Naughty, Naughty Erik and Me!

I have three children and one of them even reads my blog, thank you very much Miss Kate. Her friend Naughty, Naughty Erik does too, so it was a pleasure to meet him during our last visit.  He's such a cutie but if you look closely, you can see a glint of fire in his eyes. Although he can be a man of mischief -- which we already know from my post aptly entitled "Naughty, Naughty Erik" --mostly he's just a nice guy. The world could use more of those.



Yes, it's true that I will drive (well, technically, ride) for over eight hours just to get a good meal at somebody else's house.  I will even stay with two other families in a one-bedroom apartment, as long as there's at least one grandbaby to play with. (Since at this writing I only have one, that will do for now.)

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite days; eating great food with people you love is right up there at the top of my list of happy things.

Two of my favorite guys

Kate had to work both the day before and the day after Thanksgiving this year so we decided she didn't have enough going on in her life and we'd let her host the holiday.  So we loaded up the car with card table and chairs, air mattresses, sheets, blankets, pillows, games, books, knitting, food, silverware, luggage and the food processor.  By the time we were finished we could have strapped a rocking chair on top and called ourselves the Clampetts we had crammed so much stuff in there. (Too bad I forgot the camera.)

The trip up was mercifully uneventful and it was weird not to be responsible for the cooking.  Weird, but I could get used to it!  Kate bought a fresh turkey, so the thawing business was no issue which simplified the process significantly. She also used her sister's crock pot to cook the green beans which was sheer genius. 

Everything was done at the same time and it was the first year in a decade that we didn't have to eat burned corn.  The food was delicious, the pies were phenomenal (thank you, Wendy!) and when it was over, I went for a walk.  When I got back, the dishes were done.  It was like an adult fairytale.  Not "adult" like porn, "adult" like a grown-up lady's fantasy.  Moms' ideas of happiness often center around having household help....if a man really wants to please a woman, he should try mopping the kitchen floor.  It would certainly work for me!

We played games and talked late into the night.  It was a pleasant, quiet day.  The next morning, it was back to normal and I had brought a spaghetti squash for lunch, knowing that Kate would be at work.  I'd zapped it in the microwave for about ten minutes but it still seemed a little hard, so I was adding a couple more minutes when my son-in-law said, "Won't it blow up in there?"  As I was answering him "no," the squash made a liar out of me by exploding in there.  The force of it caused the door to fly open and the entire inside was sticky with stringy goo hanging from everywhere. 

From this I surmised that the squash was cooked, so I put spaghetti sauce and cheese on what was left of it and served it with left-over green beans.  It wasn't an amazing meal like Thursday's, but every day isn't Thanksgiving either.