The first thing you need to know about me is that I love to eat. I think hobbits have the right idea. First there’s breakfast, then second breakfast (what else!), elevenses, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, and supper. Since I am not a hobbit, but a middle-aged woman who doesn’t want to be featured on a reality show, I have cut it back to five: breakfast, morning snack, lunch, afternoon snack, and dinner.
The second thing to know about me is that I’m very tactile. How things feel is very, very important. I have continued to read boring books because the pages felt so nice. I pet people who are wearing velour. Always with their permission, of course. Otherwise it would just be weird.
This morning, for morning snack I decided to have a nectarine and two graham crackers. since it was too chilly to sit on the front porch, I sat in my kitchen and looked at….my kitchen. Don’t get me wrong. I love my kitchen. It’s black and white and red and all farm-housey (Yes, I made that word up. That’s what we get to do in English.) But, it’s not so fun to watch it do nothing. Wait! There’s Dan in the garage. Gee, he looks cute. So I got up to give him a kiss. (I left my food at the table. No eating and kissing occurred concurrently.) Sat back down. I’m cold. Hmm. Hot chocolate! That’s what I need. Then I’d have something to wrap my hand around between bites. Got up. Made hot chocolate. Yum. Dipped graham cracker in hot chocolate. Dipped again to catch graham cracker bit that fell off in the hot chocolate. Yum. Nectarine….eeew, pithy. Hot chocolate, yum. Graham cracker, yum. Nectarine, eeew. OK, if I’m going to have to actually pay attention to what I’m eating, I am absolutely not going to eat a pithy nectarine. I gave it to the chickens who seemed to enjoy it. They don’t have such discerning palates. Don’t tell my mother.