Yesterday was Saturday, and we had a really good day without sugar. For breakfast there were whole wheat pancakes (leaving out the recipe’s called-for tablespoon of sugar, and of course the maple syrup) with strawberries (organic frozen); for lunch we had homemade hummus with chips, crackers, brie and clemetines; for dinner we had a homemade bean and kale soup from the freezer with homemade french fries (with mustard instead of ketchup which contains sugar.) I just felt really good, physically happy, all day.
Now today was a little harder. See all those “homemade”s up there? Well I love to cook, but the clean-up involved in all this “homemade” all over the place is a killer. Today I was exhausted- a wreck. Consequently Steve cobbled together not only breakfast (eggs and toast) but lunch (Jap-Che noodles from the Dorset Farmer’s Market, coupled with spinach salad, some leftover steak and feta cheese) and oh yeah, dinner too (apple sausages with sauerkraut and homemade bread, and Farmer’s Market cheese and apple sauce, unsweetened.) We’re still eating good, but I feel like dog poo.
Not to mention the fact that the dishes just never get ^&%$@%-ing done around here. No sooner has every single last remaining dish been hand-washed or placed in the machine, and I am wiping the dreck at the bottom of the drain out, than the next meal starts and the dishes begin materialize again like some terrible, annoying video game. I’m starting to feel like Ma in Little House on the Prairie: all I do is cook, clean, wash up and start over again. My hands, which never do very well in winter to begin with, are cracking and bleeding at a most alarming rate. My new hobbies have become applying hand lotion like Lady MacBeth, and falling asleep at the drop of a hat.
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Eve O. Schaub 