February 15, 2017

Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses.


Ann Landers



I’ve only noticed it over the last few days, it was probably always there, but I was too busy doing other stuff to play much attention. I spend a great deal of my day eating, planning what to eat or thinking about what I want to eat next. It’s no wonder that every New Year I have a resolution that includes eating healthy or exercising, most of the time both.



In the morning as soon as my feet hit the floor I’m contemplating what is the best thing to have for breakfast. (I cannot tell a lie, this process starts the night before. But for purposes of this blog I wanted to give a full 24-hour accounting.) Often as soon as I push away from my breakfast meal, I either make lunch or start thinking about the best thing to accompany what I already have in my stomach. Most of my thinking has to do with how many calories I want to consume in one day.  My dear husband is often overwhelmed when as soon as he has taken his last bit of breakfast or lunch I ask him about dinner.




I’d like to think that I’m proactive. Always analyzing the future and preparing. But in my heart I know I’m just a foodie. I have snacks and treats squirreled away in every imaginable place. I’ll never get caught off guard. I have something to eat in my purse, in my desk and in the kitchen I have a drawer dedicated to snacks. At any given time I have at least two candy jars on the first floor that stay packed with delicious surprises.  My cravings for sweet runs like the seasons, I move from conversation hearts, to jelly beans to candy corn to truffles in a seamless transition. I’m probably the only person I know who packs food in the suitcase when I’m traveling, even when I’m traveling by plane. I don’t know if I can tell you the last time I was even really hungry.


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With this much attention to food, you’d think I love to cook. Nope. I don’t. Standing over the stove holds no appeal. I just like to eat. Maybe I need to spend a little time figuring out what my relationship with food is all about. Could I have some deep-seeded fear that one day I’m going to starve?  Am I destined to always be in a battle with my weight because I can’t stop thinking about food?


I’m sure this is an issue I’m not going to resolve anytime soon. This didn’t just happen. To get this wrapped up in food has taken me a lot of years. So while I’m giving my relationship with food some thought, I’ll have a snack.