Easter is late this year. Which means Lent starts late (today). Which means that I have been left far too long out there on my own without this annual tap on the shoulder to stop it already with the constant indulgences.
Hey, there were the holidays to celebrate, then an engagement to celebrate (another glass of bubbly anyone?), then birthdays and Valentine’s Day for which I made one request and one request only of my generous gift-giving people: candy. As in See’s (their chocolate caramel marshmallows rule) and Fabiano’s (perfection in a fabric heart box that is all but demolished by now). You get my drift.
Why can’t I be more like Aunt Hilda or Aunt Louise who, when gifted a fine box of candy, save it. For company. Dan tells me he has never reached for chocolate just for the heck of it until he started hanging around me, and now it has to stop (“I can’t keep doing this”). Good thing he’s so swarthy and all of that.
Fine then. The next sweet I eat will be our wedding cake, that’s what I said as I ate more than a spoonful of Fat Tuesday cake with orange blossom caramel sauce (for the book, and is it goooooOOOOD). That’s June though, and that’s a little crazy. It would be better if I could just have 40 good days of Lent, or even a solid month of March to do the kind of fasting that has always put me on a path toward physical and spiritual good. Or how about this: how about if I take today and try to do today well? Then we’ll see about tomorrow.
Sweetless, Meatless March Menu, Lebanese Style