Say It Ain't So

This morning, the scale paid me back for  my previous merriment by crossing my mystical weight line (referred to just a few days ago) in reverse and adding about a half pound for good measure. I know there is no immediate retribution for a meal the previous day, but I still blame the Mongolian Beef, even though I ate only about a tablespoon on just a little couscous. Maybe it was that little, tiny bit I sampled earlier to see if it  really did go with couscous, since I was purposely out of white rice. And maybe it was because I didn't make the  Mongolian Beef myself (why would I, when Kroger's deli does it so well?) and it was, well, shall I say, really sweet.

Now, today is Father's Day, and of course that means food. I chose a lunch that my husband would like and which I would never eat and which would require almost no work: a spread of deli selections, mustards, breads and some stuff to put on top, like lettuce, tomatoes and avacado.

My husband almost never eats sandwiches.  When he's home at lunchtime, he makes himself a big salad.  When he takes a meal to work (he works on Hong Kong time, so lunch is in the middle of the night) he takes a salad and an apple, or maybe just raw veggies.  So you can see what I have to work with, and also why he looks about fifteen years younger than I do. 

A rare roast beef on rye is a big deal, which makes cooking easy today.  Another thing that makes it easy is that we are eating this meal at The Cottage at Possum Ramble, which is not some chic little inn but the house next door, which my husband and daughter are remodeling. Our merriment, if you can call it that, will consist of admiring the potlights which he recently installed in the kitchen ceiling, and the fine drywall work by our daughter, when she repaired the kitchen ceiling after my husband put his foot through it, installing said potlights.

Then there is the new ceiling fan in the den, the previous one removed for looking like it belonged in a bordello. This fan is on a dimmer - no lights, but the fan speeds can be frequently and endlessly changed, to the installer's amusement.

I can't blame food eaten at the movies last night, because I didn't line up at the concession stand or take anything with me. Popcorn, even without the grease they put on it, is not a diet food, you know. No virtue even if you eat plain, air popped corn at home. It's pure starch, people! It turns to sugar as fast as your salivary glands get hold of it and start to break it down. You might as well eat a basket of nachos with fake cheese on top. Actually, the thought of that sounds pretty good. I went for my walk this morning without eating. I know you are supposed to always eat breakfast, but I am holding off for lunch, or something close to lunch, and am in no danger of blowing away just yet.