When is too much too much?

Here I sit, digesting and thinking about when I can eat more. The food was so good. Is it really THAT good or is it because we only cook like this occasionally? So many foods from our sentimental past. My grandma's noodles were a feature this year - they turned out perfectly. The turkey (which I only eat if I can see it wandering the field before it's brought to our table) was divine. Gravy - this year an exact science that couldn't have been better. I always forget something - this year it was the dressing (sitting in the freezer from a double batch made at Thanksgiving). But with minutes to spare I shoved it in the micro to thaw and a quick blast in a hot oven, then spooned onto waiting plates at the table. We didn't even REALLY need it, but hey, at least I remembered!

The dilemma - no room in the fridge which is the size of a medicine chest. So much food left over plus leftover chinese take out from Christmas eve. What to do? Why didn't we cut back? Why didn't I leave the dressing in the freezer? And also food in the fridge from the weekend Christmas open house. Oy. We'll be taking some of it round to friends. I will dream about the turkey sandwich (or as my daughter spells it 'sanwij') I will have tomorrow. You see?? I am already dreaming of the time I can eat more and I'm still in great discomfort from the food I've just had!! TOO MUCH FOOD makes you crazy.

I didn't make dessert this year because I knew with just four people (one of them being four years old) we simply wouldn't need it. Yet we're making ice cream sundaes shortly. With home made chocolate chip cookies. You see?? It never ends. The holiday of stuffing oneself.
Where is my self control? My willpower? Did I leave it in my stocking or wrap it and send it away by mistake?? Geez, I hope not - I'm gonna need it when the whole new year's resolutions kick in!!

later mashed tater and merry hoho

When the countdown gets to 1!

Hi there me.

It's Christmas eve here in Bedford-town, UK. We've picked up our free and happy turkey from the local farmer, dropped off cards, bought last minute shopping and baked cookies. We're headed over to some friends for ghost stories (!), mulled wine, a christmas film or two for the kiddies and something involving the words 'take out' for dinner. All the ramping up to bring us to this day. Tomorrow is Christmas in this house. What fun!

I'll do another post once the dust has settled, the smoke has cleared and I can see over my stomach after Christmas dinner. For anyone else reading this - Happy Holidays!

later xmas tater!

the downward spiral shaped like a holiday

So, we're counting. Yep. I bet you are, too. It's December 1st today. 23 days until Christmas. 23 days until the fat man comes down our chimney and leaves a doll that is a princess that turns into a fairy with purple or green wings under the tree ('i'm not sure santa understands what you're describing my sweetie'). 23 days until i become a whirling cooking maniac. 23 days until my husband eats an entire tin (I mean a BIG tin) of Celebrations mini-chocolates all by himself, starting at around 6:30am. 23 days until we swear we won't buy 'this much stuff ever again!!'. Do we even remember how this holiday came to be in the first place? I try. I try and find time between Christmas shopping, wrapping gifts, addressing cards and trying to obtain desired food stuffs. Between the girls' Christmas dinner, the daughter's Christmas pageant, and the various other holiday experiences that must happen. I sound really put out don't I?

But here's the thing. I LOVE this time of year. I love that my husband gets to be home for about 10 days straight. I love that there is no school. I love that we get a REAL tree (even though my husband REALLY disagrees with this). I love the hokey faux church with rainbow lights that we put out near a window. I love the food (the best free range bird we can find). I love the stories and the tipple, the neighbours dropping round. One gift on Christmas Eve and chinese food. I love it because it's mine to create. I can take all the things I really loved about Christmas when I was a kid and transform it - create something like it but more personalised for my daughter. It's her Christmas memories I'm making now. I want them to be warm and fuzzy, very special and full of fun.

So, although it feels like a downward spiral because I put every bit of this work on myself, it's actually a countdown to a great time with my little family. Everyday she asks 'Mommy, is tomorrow Christmas' and I answer 'in three weeks' and she says 'in three days?' and I say 'no in three weeks'. The advent calendar will be out this week and the fun begins. She'll see the countdown for herslf. We'll take her to a caroling service this year at a church in the town center. She'll have newly created decorations that she made in school for our tree. We'll video her performance as an angel in the school production. It's all going to be magical because I'll
see so much of it through her eyes. It's changed the holiday for us. It's magic.

Happy holidays everyone!
x

thanks alot actually!

Today, here in the UK, we celebrated (in our house) Thanksgiving. It was wonderful. Good friends came over with children and the adults ate, chatted, napped, and even watched a bit of telly. It was super.

The meal came off without a hitch (except for the salmon which I forgot to make - microwave, I love you!). My own cornbread dressing (aka stuffing), a free range bird (we'll call her Lilly), homemade giblet gravy, roasted garlic mash, sweet potato casserole (with tri-color marshmallows, of course!!), and green beans as a garnish. Yum, I say it again, yum.

I couldn't have done it without my favourite helper, my Jojo. He is stellar on holidays. He LOVES the food therefore he is on hand to do anything, anything at all to help it on it's way to the table and then as a token of appreciation, he does the washing up. What a dream.

The kids got on splendidly and didn't fight (well the brother and sister did ONCE, that in itself is amazing for a full 6+ hour period). They tried everything they were given to eat and were most patient when the grownups wanted some quiet time to digest and try and force down a cup of tea/coffee.

The weather bit the big one so in a way, it was a blessing because this kept us indoors and visiting, gaining a bit more quality time with our lovely friends. The house felt so cozy and our friends were so at home that one of them napped on the sofa. A true compliment I say.

If I could have had one wish it would have been that I hadn't lost my voice the night before due to the dregs of a cold. So I was croaky and whispery most of the day, no singing for me. Maybe a good thing?

Ok, and one more wish (since we're wishin' and all) is that all the crap we loaded up onto our queen size bed in an effort to make the downstairs more hospitable (and indeed habitable) was magically put away by the tidy up fairy. Alas, it was still there when I drug my tired butt to bed. It's now all over our floor. A fire hazard, yes probably. I'll sort it tomorrow.

I hope that everyone else who celebrated Thanksgiving was able to just sit and enjoy themselves for a few minutes. So much effort to travel and cook, etc. Do we give thanks on this day?

Which reminds me, we totally forgot to give thanks so here it is:

Thank you for my lovely family, my beautiful daughter and lovely husband. Thank you for my health (laryngitis not withstanding), my home, my quality of life and my wonderful friends. Thank you for my mom and grandmothers who encouraged me to cook, showed me what they could and passed on their cookbooks. Thanks very much indeed.

Until next time, ciao!

A life of halves

I've never been one to worry too much about weight. I was a tall skinny kid who developed hips in my teen years (sadly not a matching pair of breasts) and then in college and my twenties I kept everything even stevens by lots of dancing, skipping meals, working four part time jobs, etc. My late 20's and early 30's brought on a weight gain due to a marriage and then the loss of that weight through divorce. Anyway, suffice to say I had the normal thoughts a woman would have about her shape but I never had to go on lots of diets.

Alas, this was not to continue (can you HEAR the violins, can you, CAN YOU??). A baby at 40 and I'm still fighting off the weight gain. Anyway, I got into fitness a bit, triathlon a bit (I am the least habitual person you'll ever meet so nothing sticks, I'm like the wrong side of velcro!).

Now I realise I am not a woman who is a candidate for Biggest Loser. But I have a great deal of respect for anyone who is trying to get the scale to go down the otherway, regardless of whether it's 10lbs or 100lbs. To control diet, to make time to exercise, to drink water, to get everyone around you on board, to exercise self control in the face of tempation, the deck is stacked against you to be sure.

I have been reading a book called 'In Defense of Food' by Michael Pollan. Enlightening to say the least. There is so much advise out there and so many 'experts'. I have tried a few things with limited results - limited either because the loss wasn't notable or I didn't keep it off (back to that least habitual thing). So what's a poor 'I am NOT weighint THAT!' girl to do??

Enter the land of halves. Let's face it - all portions are too big in the western diet. I am NOT going to starve. So if I take what's in front of me and 'break' it in half, I'll A. enjoy the food and shut off the hunger alarm and B. not overeat and C. possibly eat the rest in a couple of hours.

It seems to be working - the ultimate result is a few smaller meals. It does mean stopping yourself. It means eating with AWARENESS. It means not caving in. It means feeling a little hungry in the day. But as long as your blood sugar level is happy (I must keep mine up a little bit or no one wants to come near me) and you're hydrated and feeling good, you're ok.

What we're talking about is portion size. A protein portion should just fit in the palm of your hand. A 1/2 pound cheeseburger (sure it's a HALF of a POUND but don't be a smartass!) doesn't do that, or a full size chicken breast for that matter.

Eating WITHOUT thinking spells weight gain, and possibly health problems. Eating WITH thought brings about a bit of control, enjoyment and knowledge. By knowledge I mean you KNOW what you're eating, you've thought about it. It's something you know ticks all the boxes - some protein, a little bit of carb and fat (try and stay as far from processed anything as you can). Here is an example: In London on way to a meeting. Gotta find something I can eat but don't want too much. Don't want a sandwich. Find a falafel and humous and salad wrap - cut into two pieces. Perfect. Ate one at the meeting and one a couple of hours later waiting for the train home.

Sure, I'm enthusiastic now but that's because in 5 days I've seen results. And the first day is always the hardest, after that it starts to make sense and come a bit easier.

Wow, so that was preachy. But I like to share when I get excited about something.
I have half decaf, half-n-half, half a wine so it was only a matter of time, wasn't it?

Oh, the one thing I don't sacrifice is breakfast - I may not eat much if I don't feel like it but breakfast shouldn't be too skimpy (or skipped at all). A piece of toast - no way is that gonna hold ya. A pain chocolat? Now that's just silly afterall this is a kind of diet. But a piece of toast with a hard (or soft) boiled egg - good. It's the lunch and dinner that can be pared down and the snacks need to be pared down and REAL. Bag of Doritos? Not real. An apple? Real. 1/2 pack of salted peanuts? Real. Pringles? Definitely not real. A Snickers, nope. Some dried fruit and seeds? In small portions, good.

Anyway, you get the idea. Oh, with strenuous exercise, make sure you get your calories in - halves is probably not for you!

later half a tater

So it's not daily, but it's there!

Hello me (and you if anyone else is reading). We've made it through three full weeks of school and are now well into October! Hooray. The weather is changing and soup is on the stove. The indian summer here was beautiful to say the least, but I think it's on the wane.

I had hoped to sit down every day and add some witty, interesting, possibly humourous post - it hasn't happened. Much as cleaning the house on a regular basis hasn't, tidying toys, nope, nightly dishes, uh-uh, clothes always put up, that would be NO Bob. (Sigh). It just doesn't come naturally. What to do? How do we 'g' ourselves up? How do we motivate ourselves to carry out the most mundane of tasks when we are so flamin' tired?? Everyone else's needs get met (mostly) and then the house?? The bank accounts?? The cooking and cleaning?? Oh dear. How do those amazing women do it all??

I suspect they don't sit on their butts at 7:00 to eat something and watch Voyager reruns. I suspect they don't go to bed at 9:30 whenever they can (or earlier if we're really cooking with lazy gas). I suspect their husband is a bit more anal and keeps up with stuff as much as they do. I suspect they hire someone. Hmmmm. Not an option right now so, darn it, it looks like it's going to have to be me. Poor house. Poor family. Last seen gasping for last breath underneath a pile of papers, clothing, books and random stuff. They didn't sign up for this, did they? I feel like I am letting them (and myself) down.

But am I really??? Houses are lived in - that's what families do. There is so much going on in a four year old's life, does it matter that her toys aren't picked up daily or that things end up where they are dropped? Well, a little bit, it does. If I want her to be different - to learn about taking care of her things and keeping up with the endless wave of mess, then I must lead by example. I know this and I already see signs that she is following my hopeless lead.

I WILL get better. I need to go to something like LAA (Lazy Ass Anonymous) or have some treatment for Allergic to doing stuff after 4pm. I have great waves of motivation at 10am (any body clock specialist will tell you this is true) but 4pm? Fahgitabowtit.

Well, in the time it took me to type this I coulda done the dishes. My computer is a constant source of distraction - I can procrastinate indefinitely thanks to the internet!

Ok, ok, I'm going.
Later tater.

First day of school

Howdy folks (well, me actually but I'll pretend I'm not the only follower!).

It's been a couple of weeks. Today is the first major milestone for a four year old here in the UK. FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. I did well. Not too teary, just a little bit as I walked away. My girl looked lovely, very grown up and walked in without a hitch or a single glance backward. Well done grasshopper. Now I teach how to cook dinner.

What have I done with my two hour window of time?? Well, let's see! There's the glider lesson, the bikini wax, the phone book to memorise and then of course I need to alphabetise my paperback collection...oh wait! Two HOURS. That's right folks, two whole hours for the first four months. Half days. Which is lucky really because I can get a little bit done in the mornings and still have afternoons to play. I know you are thinking I can't do math - 9am to 12pm is THREE hours. But you see, it's a 30 minute walk there and back, so I have to leave time to travel. We're going to try out the bikes tomorrow and see how we get on.

My husband asked me on the way back if this day had brought back any memories for me of my first day of school. You see, I can't remember it, not a thing. He can remember quite alot from early childhood, including his first day of school. I hope my little girl will remember. Hopefully her memory will be more like her dad's when it comes to long term (his short term memory? Fahgitabodit). I DO remember some things, don't get me wrong. Just not the first day. Do you?

With only one hour left before I have to start heading back up the road I am off to the gym - I am sure they have missed me in there since July. My waistline has most certainly missed it.

Later tater

A bit cooler, no?

It has been confirmed - my parents in Arkansas, on the Mississippi border, have said they are experiencing unseasonally cool temperatures today (Aug 23). Which proves it. The earth has shifted slightly on it's axis, because, my friends - I have unpacked. You may have noticed strange goings-on - the car won't start, all the cupboard doors are open, the grass is suddenly much shorter, the children remember their manners or to eat over their bowl of cereal, your husband remembers more than one thing and can find his own sunglasses because HE PUT THEM IN THE SUNGLASS BOWL. Yes, my friends, times they are a-changin'.

And it's weird how things work out - how the universe looks after you. I cleaned my downstairs and I've just received a message from a very great girlfriend whom I haven't seen in weeks and weeks that she is dropping by on her way to the inlaws. My daughter did observe that I had tidied the downstairs at which point she asked 'Why are you cleaning the house Mommy? Is someone coming over?' to which I replied 'No, I am cleaning the house so we can actually invite people over'. And now we already have our first guest! Timing is everything. I just can't let them into my room - the mountain of clothes on my bed is unbelievable!

Later tater

Saga of the unpacking

Well, it continues to put it simply. Have you ever intended to do something, at say, 9am, and then gone back to bed for two hours and then realise it's been two hours and think 'Damn! I gotta get up!' so you get up and then you think 'yep, it's time' and you get yourself dressed and ready and then say 'just after I rearrange the furniture down here and hang some pictures and dust (and you HATE dusting) and re-organise the kitchen cabinets'. Well, that's where I am.

Why do we put off the things we don't enjoy just to prolong the agony! And then, when we finally do the thing we hate?? We say something ridiculous like, 'Oh. That didn't take very long' or 'Oh, that wasn't so bad, why did I think it was going to be that bad?'. It's like putting off going to the dentist for a couple of years for fear of what could happen and then he says 'just watch that one in the back, otherwise you're good' and you think 'wow, ok'.

And I know what you're thinking - you're thinking she's sitting here typing when she could just reach down by her feet and grab that makeup bag and unpack it really quickly. Yeah, I could, but then I am sure the universe will cease to exist as I know it. As badly as I WANT an organised tidy little world, I don't want to do much to get it that way. Having said that, when I DO decide to clean something or organise the loft or bathroom or kitchen - LOOK OUT. I become incredibly focused and machine-like. Those are good days.

Later tater.

And that's how you have a party!

Welcome back (that would be addressed to me as I am the only one following this right now).

So, today the weather is beautiful (again). Summer seems to be making a comeback here in the UK. Well, part of it anyway. A perfect day for a one year old indian boy's birthday party. And what, you ask, am I doing at a one year old indian boy's birthday party? Do I randomly select parties to experience different cultures? Am I really that desperate not to unpack my cases?? Yes. But that's not why I found myself at a party for a little boy. I was the children's entertainment. Me just as I am. Children find me very funny and entertaining. Actually, I have started doing parties this summer, focusing mainly on my music (throwing in some silliness, party games and balloon pets for good measure). Songs were in English, just in case you were wondering.

Today was something truly special. This party was GREAT. The food was GREAT. The people were very kind and the children were all beautiful. And there was very little organisation. Folks wandered in, children joined in the singing or didn't. I stopped to eat because all the children had peeled off one by one to eat with their parents. We did a supersonic version of Pass the Parcel and Musical Statues (both were finished in under 10 minutes). Anyone who has ever been to a kid's party knows that just P the P alone can take up to several days depending on number of children and how many have no idea how to pass the parcel along. And then we did a lovely rendition of 'Happy Birthday' to the man of the day who was nearly dropped in the huge cake by his very excited father. Candle burns to the face and a crown of icing would not have made for a great birthday portrait. It was controlled chaos. I was thrilled to be there and experience it.

One man joined me in the kitchen where I ate my plate of vegetarian indian food (dee-licous). He asked me about entertaining, children not men. And then our conversation turned to cultures, where the families were from, etc. He made an interesting observation. He and his wife went to Mexico two years ago, Cancun to be exact. He said it reminded him of how the Brits travel to Spain. Not to experience the culture they are travelling to but only to harness a bit of sunshine and relaxation while pretending they are still in England. I had never thought of it but this is true. Cancun (having never been but know folks who have) is just alot of beachside hotels and shops and resorts catering to American tourism. And now of course European tourism as well because Mexico is high on the list here. Tired of your fish and chips and beer in Spain? Well then, go to Cancun and get your fajitas and hamburgers and American beer in Mexico - and never have to speak a word of spanish in either country! Hooray!

Personally, I WANT to try and make people suffer through my attempts to speak the language. I want to know where the locals eat, where is the quietest beach, the ruins, cathedrals, etc. It's called travel. Otherwise they would call it something different like 'home away from home' or 'be as unadventurous as you like with a tan!'. I don't know. Just my opinion is all. I will say this, however, recently I have come to see the allure of a resort holiday - kid's clubs, drinks and food sorted, a pool, sleep, and no surprises. Always planning your own holiday, accommodating others schedules, trying to fit it all in, it's flaming exhausting! I know, poor me, I travel abroad and get worn out going to lots of sunny places in America, boo-hoo!! But as I may have mentioned, I moved abroad to see places even further afield, not always return to my roots. But hey, they are called roots for a reason and some of us heed the call more often than others. Some are deaf to the call or have in fact transplanted themselves happily and permanently. I haven't done this and don't think I will. I wonder what my daughter will do? If she lives here a few more years she will feel the pull of England. I wonder what her attitude will be like. Hopefully she'll be into the world and want to experience it all for herself.

I had a great time, earned a bit of cash, and now - yes, the time has come. It's time to unpack.
Maybe I can find one more party to crash.

Catch you on the flipside.

The Art of Unpacking (or not)

Hey! I've got one follower! Ok, so I am the follower, but it's a start. I'm not writing so much for the following but for the needing to sit and do this. A cathartic writing experience. A writing burp. Hear that? Ah, I feel better already.

Today's Pro and Con/Do and Don't List:

Things I Can Do if I Don't Unpack Now:

1. Add to my blog
2. Shower
3. Nibble on sweets brought over from the States.
4. Read (just finished Julie/Julia)
5. Sleep (one hour nap today)
6. Think about stuff (constantly)
7. Sit outside and think about stuff and/or read (did that twice)
8. Go to the pub in an hour (after #2)
9. Complain about how badly I need to pack
10. Hold off on laundry (like this is any different to any other day, with or without suitcases)

Things I Can Do IF I Unpack Now:

1. Wear something different
2. Begin laundry (and we now all know how I feel about THAT)
3. Know where all the stuff is (and there is alot of STUFF)
4. Skype to our DC friends who wrote their address in a note - which is packed (shoulda stamped it on my forehead)
5. Use my favourite deoderant (which is packed)
6. Offer my child something else to wear besides the dregs of her dresser drawers.
7. Actually do something productive (besides writing on my blog, of course. Oh, and sleeping.)
8. Surprise the ever living crap out of my husband. (Now why would I want to do THAT??)
9. Walk in my bedroom without tripping over a suitcase (of which there are three).
10. Allow my husband to walk through the bedroom without tripping.

I know, I know, decisions decisions. I mean, what to do? If I unpack, well, I'm unpacked. If I don't unpack I could live out of these cases for, hell, months! I packed three weeks worth of stuff! Actually, it was much more than three weeks. I did try and at least touch each article of clothing I brought - I was by far the worst sufferer of overpack-itis. And now I am suffering from i-don't-wanna-unpack-itis. If I unpack, it's over itsn't it? The holiday, over. Done. But I could do with some clean shirts. All my faves are in the case rolled up into tiny cloth sausages. Time to unroll. Yeah, yeah...hey, what's this? A MAGAZINE?? Hmmmm.

I'll let you know how I get on.

Catch you on the flipside.

Getting into the Swing

Ah, the chance to unload. However, I felt much more like unloading yesterday. Jetlag can really take it's toll. Today (thank you Mr. Ambien), I feel more awake and like my old self. My daughter slept through the night (hallelujah!) and thus, so did we.

We've just returned from a wonderful (and very tiring) three week holiday to America. I am a transplant. A turnip for a heart, a donkey's leg for a human's. I am an American in England. So although I never intended for all of my worldly adventures to revolve around the US (and family), they do.

This trip included a family wedding (was actually a GREAT time, my cousin looked AMAZING, and my daughter was a flower girl - what mom could say no? Show her to me if she exists!! She'll only have SONS!), a trip to Florida, a trip to New Orleans (Covington and Slidell to be precise), Jackson, Ms, Gulfport, Ms, Raleigh, NC and NYC and Long Island. Yes, alot to do and alot of people to see. Oh, and a layover at the Nashville airport. Which was a shame cause it shoulda been two days in Nashville considering I lived there for nearly 12 years. I just couldn't fit it all in.

So hence the jet lag. It really does throw you. I mean, I have mommy brain anyway but to put travel tiredness on top of it, it does feel like I had secret brain surgery whilst asleep on the plane. Maybe I did. Probably organised by my husband. Probably didn't get the desired effect. I bitched at him plenty yesterday (whipping post for my home visit being over). I apologise when I know I've been out-of-line (yes this can happen with some frequency which diminishes the sincerity of the apology, I know). I'm much nicer today.

My daughter's great comment of the day (so far, it's only 9:45am): Let me read to you mommy. Ok, me and you went on holiday and Jojo's underpants stayed home.

My husband was reading this book you see. It was called Superships. He says it got very interesting. Written around 1974 about super oil tankers. It wasn't my bag baby. I read from it one night aloud and decided that in order to make it more palatable, it would be nice to swap any mention of 'ship' 'tanker' 'super structure' to 'jojo's underpants'. Allow me to give you a taste:
'When jojo's underpants contain 4 million gallons of crude oil without a leak, the quality of the underpants...' you get the idea.

Well, my 4 year old daughter caught wind of this funny exchange and on the airplane to America decided to enjoy a bit of light reading. She took his book from him and said (and she shouts, it's just what she does) 'I'm going to read Jojo's Underpants'. She opened the book (upside down of course) and shouted 'One day, Jojo's underpants went to the shop. On the underpants train. And then Jojo's underpants...'. Great fun was had at my husband's expense. The uptight Brit behind him didn't quite seem to get it. The best moment was shouting to him on another flight as we all lined up like cattle to disembark 'Mom! Did we put Jojo's Underpants in the bin??' to which I replied, 'No, we packed Jojo's Underpants.

Another lovely shouting moment was leaving the first plane to go to immigration. Many people strung along a long echo-y corridor with lots of glass. I hear 'Mom! I need a POO!'. Then I hear laughter and snickering. 'Did you all get that?' I ask turning to look behind me at which point two people nod in earnest. Four year olds do not have a filter. Anything and everything that enters their minds comes out of their mouths. They pick at themselves quite happily in public. They scream 'NOOOOOO' at you. They ask you if they have the cutest bottom and winky in the public pool changing room. They comment on you at all times - nipples, pubic hair, your fat tummy, nothing is safe from the roving eye of a 4 year old tabloid reporter.

Alas, the sun is shining (it's in the mid-60's and gorgeous, the weather Gods have been smiling on us for weeks - here and during our travels) and our kitchen has nothing in it. The milk and bread a friend left for us upon our return is long gone. I guess it's time to get the the grocery and think about cooking again. We ate out ALOT on our trip. Having said that, we stayed with friends and family several nights, so it could have been alot worse.

Funny thing about returning home and eating your favourite foods - at first you eat them because you can. Oh! That first bite of southern biscuit. That first taste of shrimp po-boy. The fresh fish. The sushi. The mexican. Grits. It's a long list. But something strange happens. You (or at least I) can't seem to stop ordering the stuff you can't get back in England. You begin to dread it, just a little. You order it out of a sense of obligation. I CAN'T get it there so I've GOT to eat it now. My mouth is saying 'three egss over medium with homefries and a biscuit' while my internal diet policwoman/just plain common sense is saying 'fruit salad! fruit salad!!!'. Although I was offered and accepted fruit salad I never actually ORDERED fruit salad. Although I did (in the first few days of our holiday in Florida) eat ALOT OF GORGEOUS TASTING FRUIT. Thank you Grandma!

Let's just go over the list:
Raleigh: Flying Biscuit biscuits (yum), homemade pan fried grouper dredged in cornmeal (thanks Eric!), Crook's Corner shrimp and grits and tomato and watermelon salad (in Chapel Hill, BEST cornbread I have EVER had). We even had free range bbq chicken and rosemary potatoes (the meat issue is another post for another time).
Florida: shrimp, fruit, salad, sushi at Fuju (in Naples, GREAT tiny place, family run), Grandma's pot roast (a miracle considering she has no short term memory, thanks Aunt Sandy for saving the pot roast! I had a tiny taste because when in Rome!!), Yellowtail snapper breaded and sauted in butter, olive oil, white wine & lemon (Chef me, yum!), and Girlscout Thin Mint ice cream. Lots of sandwiches and thinly sliced cheese. I even ate some mesquite roasted turkey (again for another post). Let's not forget the first meal we had in FL - Waffle House!
Louisiana: Po-boys, shrimp from Bears in Slidell. Excellent!! Nothing but loads of shrimp.
Breakfast was at our b&b in Slidell, Woodridge Inn. Lovely place and Debbie - you make the best biscuits I have ever tasted and I am FROM the south and have eaten ALOT of homemade biscuits. Knocked my socks off, they did.
Mississippi: Ok, Pepitos, Negoya (both very good mexican and sushi respectively and right next store to eachother in Madison, Ms), homecooked talapia (thank you Dan!), lots of great sandwhiches, pancakes at my sisters (yummy) and all the crappy snack food you care to eat - Pizzas, Little Debbies, Doritos, Hostess DingDongs, and a real show stopper - Oreo milk shakes (again, thank you Dan!). A final farewell to Jackson was at Cracker Barrell. We then ate in Gulfport fast food (only once) and at a new restaurant called the Half Shell. Excellent Gumbo, Ellie said the shrimp po-boy was better than Bears and the cheese grits were lovely. Everyone oo'd and ah'd.
Nashville: although a brief layover, we ate at Baha Burrito in the airport. Gracias.
New York: The Diner (around the corner from Hotel Gansevoort), veggie burger, very nice. Breakfast the next day too. Ethiopian food (don't know the name of the place but around NYU and very good). City Bakery for a bit of lunch. On Long Island we ate mostly at St. Ignatius retreat center for all wedding meals. Very nice food. Back to the city we had a slice of pizza at 33 & 3 and dinner at Gobo (6th Ave at 8th and Waverly, or Beverly as our indian cab driver called it). This restaurant blew us away - even my husband who likes all kinds of food said it rocked. It is a must for anyone who visits NYC. Forget it's vegan, you won't miss the meat, my husband didn't.
Breakfast was at the Barking Dog. This place rocks. Right next to the Affinia Dumont on East 34th St near Lexington. All of our breakfasts made our jaws drop. Lunch was at Blockhead's Burritos just up from the pizza place. Grande Quesadilla was superb. We brought some back with us on the plane, popped it in the oven and called it dinner on the first night home. 9Quite a list, huh?)


So, I must head to the store and buy some average apples and hugely imported bananas because the shriveled lemon and orange in my fruit bowl are going in the trash. Rice and beans and lentils and well, that's it for a while. Our taste buds need a little rest. As do our waistlines. Well, mine anyway.

Catch ya on the flipside!

ok, I'm back.

I can sit for a moment - but only a moment because my 4 year old has learned the art of flattery and bribery (ok, two arts). She is begging me to play on the computer whilst holding my hand (before I started typing), kissing my cheek and talking to me in baby-talk 'puhleeze can I play on the compu-tah?' I can't say no. Well, I could easily say no and often do but at this moment I feel I owe her some yes time. It's good to say yes once in awhile. Not all the time, but some times. All the time can really bite you on the ass.

Welcome to my world, one day at a time...

Welcome. I've decided it's time to get this c-rap out of my head and out there somewhere. Better out than in. Good. That's over. I'll be back.