Fruit and Fish.

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I went to the doctor's yesterday. I had made the appointment for a variety of achey, malais-ey, vague-ish reasons probably related to that 20 lbs I acquired during my stay in this fattening, foggy town.

My doctor was very understanding, he didn't predict that my eyeballs would explode, nor that I'd keel over suddenly. He just said I'd better return to my Flip Flop weight, otherwise he'd have to put me on medication. Which is icky to me, since right now I am med-free. He gave me three months to get it under control.

When he asked me about my favorite foods, I sheepishly told him about my new skills of baking bread. He recommended baking small loaves and eating more fruit and fish. Since he put it that way, it doesn't seem nearly so onerous. Also, Dutch has to go on the diet with me.

Salmon and Regrets

That didn't stop me from going home and crying all over Dutch's shoulder. Nor from hitting the market and bagging a trout salmon. I was mostly crying over the elysian fields that populated my dulcet sojourn in Flip Flop. Oh, those sunny skies! Oh, those fresh market veggies! Oh, kick-boxing and taco Tuesdays! Oh, Eleven and Seaweed Girl taking me swimming! Oh, going biking down the River Trail! Oh, those sundrenched shores! Oh, the trees! Oh, Pogonip! After Dutch's shoulder was thoroughly drenched with tears of self-pity, I remembered why I left Flip Flop (oh, the poverty! oh, the commute! oh, the nights-alone!). When I left, I had no idea the price I'd pay in terms of the girth of my patootie.

It is berry season right now, somehow Dutch and I will survive. Hopefully, we'll be a little thinner by the end of Summer.