Run ahead, lag behind, carry me.

A walk is never a linear progression with a three-year-old in tow. But I doubt we would stop and examine everything, even the mud, quite as much without her.

::

One thing I don't talk about here nearly as much as I think about: food. You may or may not have picked up on it, but I'm fairly obsessed. All across the spectrum: food sources, food shopping, cooking food, reading about food, the politics of food, looking at food and pictures of food. Eating food. And most of all, feeding the ones I care about.

{I'm going to interject here, that what I am not interested in, at all, is food science. By that I mean, someone telling me about how marination breaks down the whatsit in the meat, or the gluten content of such and such contradicts the starch in so in so. Bored by it. Don't care, I'll see it with my own eyes & taste it and figure it out. Leave me alone. Just saying.}

Some might say that my...ahem...fixation...on food is not healthy, as intense focus on one thing often is not. Of course, that's nonsense. It is, exactly, healthy. Everything else can wane: Social life? Pretty limited. Ability to travel widely and freely? Ditto. Energy and time to develop new hobbies? Working on it. But no. Disposable income? Fresh out.

But, around here? We eat. And well, if I may say so.

I thought I might tell you about it, a little. So tomorrow, I'm going to start in on breakfast tales, and then lunch, and then...well...you get the picture.

For now, I'm going to leave you with this:

At the end of the day, if I've fed them all well, if I've enjoyed a few moments myself where I've sat still, and savored a good something or other to eat, if they've said please and thank you, kissed me before running off, or, in the case of the man of the house, held my hand in between bites, and mmmm-ed and ahhh-ed; I'm pretty much pleased as punch.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

tt