Hungry Day

Every once in a while I have what I call a hungry day. For whatever reason, my usual amount of food just does not suffice. Perhaps this is hormonal. Or perhaps it is in response to an accumulation of a sufficient number of days in which I have eaten at a slight caloric deficit, and this is my body's way of INSISTING that it wants me to weigh what I weigh and not a drop less. My brain on the other hand, would like twenty pounds gone. Unfortunately, on these hungry days, my body usually wins. And no, it's not cookies. I lost track of my calories somewhere around mid-afternoon in a huge protein craving. So I made some soup and have been noshing on that and rye crackers, trying to do as little damage as possible while satisfying this urgent need for protein, warmth and calories.

It probably would do better not to put fat on those rye crackers, but hey...it's winter and I'm HUMAN.

In addition to being hungry, I feel like a little old lady today. Sore, stiff, frumpy. My favorite clothes are frumpy cardigans and comfortable sandals and wool socks.

Perhaps I should go out grocery shopping to get some relief from five days of persistent domesticity. I HAVE stepped foot out of the house this week, don't get me wrong: coffee with a friend Monday night and some good fresh air walks with my kids, too. Oooooooooo.

I learned the hard/expensive way, this week, the virtues of vacuuming out one's furnace air intake filter. I guess the world this winter is unusually dusty, because I've actually neglected the thing LESS this winter than heretofore, but the lack of having it vacuumed caused our furnace to quit getting our house much warmer than sixty degrees. After a stubborn week in a relatively cold house, I called the heating guy and he fiddled around while I vacuumed the filter. Too bad I wasn't the one who got paid fifty-nine dollars for that job.

If your furnace is not working, I'll be happy to come over and vacuum your furnace air intake filter. It will only cost you fifty-nine dollars. He he.

I also learned that at sixty degrees, children behave indoors as if they were at a park on a crisp fall day. Like hyenas. Imagine that!

Someone told me they'd read in a book somewhere that dust is actually the decomposed body parts of dead fairies. If it was in a book, it must be true! Suppose I should send the fairy guild a bill for my furnace service?

Currently reading that book about how omnivores are a delimma. Well, I'm happy the the virtues of eating an idustrial organic meal have been filed down to almost irrelevant. I also want to know what planet the author of that book lives on because he says that Americans spend only a tenth of their disposable income on food. Where? Huh? Which Americans? DISPOSABLE????? What's that supposed to mean? You mean like I take all the things like housing expenses, heat, electric, etc and subtract, and then see what percentage of what is left over we spend on food? I'd LOVE to be on the planet where two hundred a week is TEN PERCENT of our disposable income. Whoever that Berkley-living author is, he need's to do some research journalism over here in Kentucky. HA!

But speaking of local farmers, if I start smoking, I will endeavor only to buy locally grown pipe-weed. Longbottom leaf, perhaps? But then again, half of what is locally grown in this state is somewhat suspect in its legality, so I shall remain smoke free, except what I blow on this blog.

The ONLY things, so far, that I'm inspired to perhaps do food-wise, from reading this book is pick up some Laura's Lean beef when it's on sale (which I already do), make more of an effort to barter for, or purchase venison if I get the chance, from friends or family who have access to such, and PERHAPS see if some lettuce and tomatoes might grow out back this summer. While I'm at it I might plant some butternut squash. I sure do love butternut squash!

Maybe some day when my grocery bill represents a mere ten percent of my disposable income, then I'll be able to shop off the grid or afford to go hunting in the wilds. The author's arguments notwithstanding, I just don't buy the idea that most of us have the option were we to so choose, to buy all local and/or organic all the time. Cause I don't have cable and the twenty bucks it takes to add my cell phone to my husband's business phone would buy ONE organic chicken per month...a partial meal for a family of six, and then soup a few days later. Whatever.

As my friend says: I am always the gadfly on these issues. I suppose I am. Zzzzzt. Zzzzzt.

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