The smell of pancakes comes wafting down the hall from the kitchen, and the sweetness is perfume to my brain. I feel neurons firing and a 'coming awake' as it were. But I analyze it all, find it interesting, and move on. For a moment I regret that I am subjected to this small torment, then I remember the warmth wafting across from under the sheets last night, and I am grateful that the same someone cooking pancakes out of a propellant bottle is also the someone who loves me best in this life and is willing to warm my feet at night. So I choose to enjoy the smell, remember the warmth, and move on, thinking of the yummy blueberries that will go in my smoothie later when I am hungry.
Speaking of later, we are taking a day trip to Napa to meet friends for lunch. This will be my first visit there since ditching dairy and gluten. We are going to the winery with the awesome deli, but what I remember is lean peppered pastrami, pungent cheeses and sourdough baguettes. I am praying for salad & roasted red peppers & Sicilian olives - but no matter what the fare I will choose wisely. I did not like seeing Mr. 200 Monday after five days eating on the road and I am not going to do anything to welcome him back now that he's gone again. ...And now I feel like saying to the universe, "So There!" and sticking my tongue out. Is not it wonderful how a part of us never grows up.
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