Tag: eating

Eat Trash? Um, yes please!

On By AngeliaIn Beautiful Life, In my heart forever & ever, LOVE, Posessed by Nikon19 Comments

I ate trash tonight. And I don’t mean fried chitlins.

I mean White Trash. The yummy, edible stuff.

Trash sent from Georgia

What a nice surprise to come home to a package. To open the package and have a sweet card, sweet hearts, and yummy trash.

Sydney eating la trashe´ blanc.

Jason digging in the trash.

Molly loved the grub, and the sweethearts.

I can’t believe our family got so trashy!

And who do I have to thank for this dumpster diving gift?

None other than my dear bloggy friend Square Peg in a Round Hole Peg. I met her – ohmygosh! has it been a year? – almost a year ago in person.

We are just thrilled with this gift. The thoughtfulness, the explosion of flavor, and the surprise. If I were a young hip kid, I’d say, “That is soooo beast!”

Maybe, deep down to our core, we are just trashy people.

Whichever it is, it made us all very, very happy to enjoy.

A white trash kind of happy.

Seriously Peg, thank-you for sharing (sending) your trash. We are just tickled Georgia peach.

P.S. This was a great capture for my 365 project.

Please send me your trash any ol’ time. I know right where to put it.

Dear Trick or Treater

On By AngeliaIn The Truth Series, Wee Wee Wee all the way home!24 Comments

I have a confession to make. When shopping for Halloween candy to give out this year, I had you in mind. You wouldn’t receive the “bad” candy; tootsie rolls, pixie sticks, or smarties. That just wasn’t good enough. Not for you. Not for my trick or treater. Nope, for you, I would splurge on (gasp!) chocolate. Because? It’s Halloween. It’s a treat. You deserve it! You deserve it for all the times the wee will be scared out of you on this Hallowed frightfest night. And what could I get you that would be most deserving of your adorable costume? Your pumpkin bucket? Your painted green witch face? Your big smile and open mouth? A treat, I myself would love to receive. A treat that is chocolaty, and peanut buttery, so smooth in all it’s yummy goodness it should be renamed chocolate heaven.

Reese’s Peanut Butter cups

Scrumptious, most delicious treat of all Halloween time.

This is the good stuff.

This is what you deserve my little sweet faced friend. I bought bags with you in mind. With your well-being. With your coming home shrieking in pleasure, “Reese’s! Reese’s! I got a Reese’s from the house that gives out the good candy. Yeah!”

I felt like the Grinch who saved Halloween and grew a heart to stop handing out orange and black peanut butter chews for something with substance. Good candy. Chocolate candy. I am nothing but over generous.

Then, it happened.

I had one little bite. Just one Reese cup package. Just a little snack. Just a desert after dinner. It was my biggest mistake and a pitiful spiral of self-control defeat worthy of any horror flick.

One opened the sacred bag. One lead to another. I was taking “one” to eat after lunch, then “one” mid-breakfast, and then “one” as an after work snack; after stress treat, after dinner, before bed. And……and….and….and…..

I’m sorry.

I hang my head in shame. The Reese’s are gone. I am not allowed to buy anymore. There is no more “good” candy allowed in this house. Only the stuff I won’t touch. Maybe you should just skip our house?

I apologize dear trick or treater. It’s all my fault. Enjoy your dots….

…..again.

Next year. NEXT year, we will have the “good” stuff……..I (um) promise.

*images by Google

Love and Restriction

On By AngeliaIn Beauty is on the inside, The Truth Series18 Comments

The first thing that comes to mind when I think of love and restriction is food. Yes, food.

Hey, it’s better than my second thought, which was the time I got grounded from my first car, a week after I got my driver license. Not for one week. Not for two. It was for SIX MONTHS of restriction. I have videos of the car set to the song, “Cry Little Sister” from the Lost Boys soundtrack. It was THAT bad. What kind of parents do that to a teenager after giving them a CAR for their 16th birthday? Apparently mine, because the LOVED me.

Longest six months of my entire life. Still painfully clear twenty-three years later. So you see? Forget the second thought, let’s go with the first one……contemplative cuisine; the snacking, shoveling, and wolfing of it.

I LOVE food. Any kind of food, in any way. An array of delicacy to have affairs with.

Pasta, seafood, sushi, steak, bread, chocolate, dairy, fruit, fast food, slow food, and any kind of mexican – any kind of bakery goods. Fried, baked, buttered, battered, or grilled – doesn’t matter. Like I said, any kind; any way.

I can’t even cook. I am a foodie at the mercy of the many fine chefs mastering in their nummy kitchen heaven in the comfort of their domains.

God love em’.

By the way, my sixteen-year old daughter wants to be a chef when she grows up. Coincidence?

I read somewhere that you only savor the first bite or two of jubilant noshing, and after that you are just eating on auto-pilot inhale. Not me. I savor every morsel. Every one. With pleasure. With rapture. With complete and utter devotion to the chew.

Love…

Restriction…

See, here is the scoop. Food lovin’ makes me gain weight. My tummy bloats. I get heartburn. It clogs my arteries and gives me muffin top. Well… bigger muffin top; like my muffin top eats your muffin top for breakfast, or my muffin top is pregnant with triplets kind of muffin top. So although, I’d like to eat a gazillion calories a day. If I did that, I’d be movable by Mack truck only. So, I restrict myself. Sadly. Tearfully. Does anyone feel my pain?

That’s my restriction – the love of nummy, yummy food.

Now, if you’ll excuse me. I hear a Reese’s cup calling my name.

*Originally a guest post on The Scoop on Poop, re-post today, as I really need to drop some pounds before D-Day the BIG day – when I shouldn’t be too “big” eh?

*Images by Google.