My sane self is very cautious about what I should eat, and what I shouldn’t. Mostly I adhere to the rules of eating healthy food, and to avoid sugary snacks. Sometimes my traitorous heart rebels, and takes over my saner self to disobey.
Last night I quickly left the dinning area after Son sat down to enjoy his chocolate caramel cone. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to desist from getting one from the freezer. I have noticed that there has been a detoriation going on with my previous iron clad will. It’s no longer under my command. I succumb easily to eating desserts, and Icecreams.
I will have to find a way to shore up my crumbling wall of sensible eating. How to do it I have no idea?
Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
Pistachio Ice cream in the making.
Back in 2010 my (late) husband, and I visited my daughter. At that time she lived in Charlottevilles, Virginia. My son in law who is a doctor by profession, but at heart he is a superb chef. He kept us giving different versions of ice creams; like chocolate vanilla, cookies & cream, banana & walnuts, mangoe ice cream, chunky monkey, and so on.
Each was better than the other. Once you are hooked on home made stuff, store brought doesn’t appeal.
My daughter did tell me to buy an ice cream maker like hers’, but we had no extra space to carry it back home. I consoled myself with the thought of finding one like that in the local market. The old quote “Act in haste, repent at leisure” could be modified in my case to “Don’t Act, repent at leisure”. My repent was, “why didn’t I buy one?”
Last year I bought one with two bowls, and I had my fill of home made ice creams.
Vanilla, chocolate, or something else entirely?
Daily Prompt: Saved by the Bell
Tell about the time when you managed to extract yourself from a sticky situation at the very last minute.
My husband’s friends rang up to say that they were in town. They planned to visit us at 5p.m, and would have a cup of tea, nothing more.
R was excited at their coming, and asked me what was I going to serve. Except for shami kebabs (I promptly took some out to thaw), there was nothing else cooked and ready to serve.
I had already concluded that I will have to forgo my afternoon sleep. I set out to work. I made a dessert first, and put it in the freezer to chill. Then I made chicken tikka and chat. I heated the shami kebabs. By that time it was already four thirty. I switched on my Hostess Trolley to keep the eatables warm and rushed to take a shower.
The friends stayed till late, and my husband kept pressing them to have dinner with us. I had nothing for dinner. Normally I cooked in the evening. I kept praying in my heart that they will refuse, which thankfully they did. If they had stayed, I would have been in a fix.
I wonder why husbands are so obtuse?
Invitation to Dinner