Pretty African violets from my mother’s garden to balance out the vulgarity of this post.
I’m listening to my stomach gurgle and hiss and make very angry noises at me. I’ve been trying to cut down on sugar and dairy lately and it’s been going well. Until today.
I attended a work lunch that was prepared at a colleague’s home. The meal was incredible — quiche with feta cheese and bruschetta, maple pecan French toast with fresh whipped cream, pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, and fresh fruit. All topped off with generous mimosas.
What do you do in that situation? Grimace and push away the only food offered? Or dive in and recognize that if there is any time to break your own rules, this is the moment to do so.
Adios diet, bienvenidos sugar and dairy. Welcome to the wonderful world of AfricanKelli digestion, a land where taste buds and stomach rarely agree. Where the brain can’t seem to make the right choice and the mouth regularly takes rein. The meal was a sweet, cheesy mess of deliciousness. It was so good I nearly had another serving, and am quite thankful now I did not.
My belly is on strike. It did not give my mouth the courtesy of pre-emptive strike negotiations. As the two battle this feast out, I listen.
Gurgle. Gurgle. Cramp.
The weather in Phoenix is still remarkably wonderful. For mid-April I cannot believe how pleasant the temperature is. We are in full Spring swing and loving it. This afternoon I’m day-dreaming. I’m thinking of the new recipes I’m going to try this weekend for that Bundt cake contest. I want to sew up a few little treats for girlfriends with babies due in the next two months. I want to finish knitting a special gift for a friend’s birthday next week. I want to find a madelines pan and make the “cookie of the month” in the May issue of MSL. I want to put on my bikini and work in my garden and feel the warm earth in my hands and the sun on my back. I want to make a huge pitcher of sangria margaritas and turn on some Shakira and shake my hips around the house.
Saturday, please arrive soon. The guest room is ready and I promise I will be a good hostess.
P.S. Don’t forget to bring some fresh lime and ice.