I’m not sure exactly how this post will flow (ignore supposed
transitions) since I’m going to double post it—both on Joe Average Writer and here on Fatty’s Blubber Blog. The rare few who frequent both sites
don’t need to bother with reading it twice. But I guess those of you
who are anal enough to do it…can…I guess. I’d just recommend another
hobby…or therapy.
Back from the tangent now: yesterday
I came back from being on the sick wagon. No, I didn’t stuff myself
with too much turkey or stuffing or pie (mmm…pie) or any birthday
treats. Believe me, or not, I’ve held my eating in check at the start
of this birthday/holiday season. More on that in a moment.
Last
Friday night, Sariah got sick in the bathtub. Gross, I know. Then
around one in the freakin’ a.m. Zac wakes me up, and says, “Dad, I
barfed. Could you help me clean it up?” Give him credit—he wasn’t
covered in puke. He even made sure he made it to the bathroom.
However, he didn’t quite make it to the porcelain. An explosion of
not-so-well-chewed bean with bacon soup covered the entire bathroom
floor. The backsplash made it halfway up the tub and cabinets, behind
the toilet and up the far wall at least six inches. How he escaped the
blast zone without any on him, I’ll never know. And he was too asleep
to register anything.
Two nights later Amy and
Brooklyn both tossed their cookies (on Amy’s b-day, even), and my
stomach started having issues. I must point out here that I never bowed
to the porcelain god, but I still offered tribute, if you know what I
mean. Needless to say, I am tired of cleaning up chunks of chicken and
pineapple and cheese (and bile). And I am tired of not getting much
done.
So, to remedy that period of barfiness, and to
celebrate my (relative) health, Amy and I have finished the initial
version of our independent study course revision, I have turned in the
last of my (also pukey) stats homework, and I have been able to do some
planning for when my student teacher jumps ship next week. One thing I
have not done is work on my NaNoWriMo novel. Yes, say it. I’m bad.
Now,
back to Thanksgiving and birthdays and food and such. This year, for
the month of December, I am going to post a picture and recipe of “Food
That Makes Me Happy.” Yes, you smart-aleck, that could include most, if
not all foods. Yes, the title also sounds a little childish, but do
you know what? I don’t care. This time of year is one for reliving
those cherished childhood memories of Christmas, those indelible moments
that will never vanish no matter how hard we try to erase them…oh, I
mean, those moments that will bring us joy throughout our whole lives.
Now that I’ve cheesed it up enough for you (more, fresh Parmesan or
cracked pepper, sir?), here’s a taste of what is to come, because
Thanksgiving makes me happy. In fact, it’s my favorite holiday, I
think, but I’ll write about that another time. For now, enjoy the
picture. I’m not going to give a recipe today. That’s for December.
Just don't lick the screen. That's gross.
This delectable plate, by the way, includes turkey of both the light and
dark variety, real mashed potatoes, yams, sausage and apple stuffing,
homemade bread, cranberry sauce, pond scum, gravy, carrots, sweet
pickles, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, sweet bell peppers, and black
olives. Pie was later.
P.S. I lost six pounds, too.