dear bacon

I’ve been writing this “love letter” in my mind for over a week now.

It started in my head on the day that I heard the news that shook my world.

Not that it is really going to change my behavior or anything. But it still makes me a little sad.

This weekend we went on our annual “ski” trip (I don’t usually/actually ski on many of these trips, just mostly drink adult beverages and watch t.v. and look out the window at the pretty mountains while sitting by the fire) and there is approximately 200 loads of laundry to be done and piles of mail to go through and grocery shopping/meal planning to do.

So, of course, I thought that now would be as good of a time as any to get pen to paper. Or fingers to keyboard. Or whatever.

Please note that in my mind, these words are softly spoken over a montage of pictures of the lovely delights mentioned below.

But I am not able to take time to do that- and it’s one of those things that would never come out exactly right anyway, and I would obsess and be sad with the results.

I know that I have problems. I admit it freely.

Anyway.

Here you go.

Dear Bacon,

I have loved you for so long. You make almost everything better.

The very first time we met, I am sure that I knew my life was changed forever.

I love you cooked in the oven, slightly tender.

I love you fried in a pan, crispy and crunchy.

I love you on white bread. With Duke’s Mayonnaise.

I swoon.

I love you with tomatoes. I love you with avacado. I love you with eggs.

I love when you are accidentally dipped in maple syrup.

I love you in small, crunchy pieces mixed into cheese grits.

I love you crumbled on top of a wedge of iceberg lettuce with blue cheese dressing.

I love you wrapped around scallops. Or asparagus. Or chicken stuffed with something cheesy.

I love you on top of a slice of cheese toast. Beside a bowl of tomato soup.

I love you so much that both of my children were in love with you before they could even say your name.

Please don’t ever leave me.

Even if I am one day forced to only have you in moderation, I will never give you up.

You have been the reason that I have never truly been able to become a vegetarian.

And for this reason, my husband loves you, too.

I will crave you forever,

Katie

Ridiculous? Yes.

And you’re welcome

the end of times…

Now, I am not going to say that I am really surprised by either of the two things that are king of bringing me down this week…but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t bringing me down.

What am I all in a dither about, you may ask?

Well, let me tell you.

1. Bacon equals cancer.

2. Paula Deen has diabetes.

Again, I am not necessarily surprised by either of these “announcements”. And I realize that one is a medical fact and one is some extensive research.

But they both make me sad.

I love bacon. And I love Paula Deen.

I think I’ll write love letters to both of them later.

Please look forward to that.

For now, I’m just a little confused about what to do with all the bacon in my fridge. I think my kiddos will cry if they see it in the trash.

And so would Paula Deen.

new, good things and bad, habit-forming things…

Hello!

It’s super dreary here today, and it’s got us cooped up inside. Near all the snacks and diet drinks (both of which I’m trying foolishly to limit my consumption of in this brand-spankin’-new year).

So, I thought I would burden you all with some ramblings.

I’ve been thinking about the holidays as I get the final bits and pieces of the decor that took over this house for over a month down.

(Full disclosure: our tree is still in the living room, and it still has lights on it- decorations are off, but the lights are on. Big plan is to take it to the curb tonight. We’ll just say that I wanted to keep it up through Epiphany. Ok?)

I wanted to share with you something that I coveted all year and then received from my wonderful mother for Christmas:

*photo is taken right off of zappos.com*

It’s the “Lauren” wallet from Hobo International. Except, mine is blue. I guess they are sold out of the blue- so sorry for you! My family doesn’t understand my love for it. When I get it out of my purse I ooh and ahh over it. Every time. I snap it open and closed with care. I show anyone who cares all of it’s compartments, it’s lovely interior print, the strong magnetic close and it’s pocket that is large enough for your iPhone. Because, you see, it can be in your purse or it can BE YOUR PURSE! It is so delightful. If I had sponsors or extra cash, I would give one away to you, my loyal reader(s). But alas. You can just covet mine. And I will try diligently to write more, and more interesting, posts to try to get someone to donate something. Maybe if I had focus.

Wait. What?

Oh.

So, other than spending time showing off my wallet and taking down Christmas, I managed to run last week. And apparently going full-on on the treadmill at plus-eight pounds isn’t so good for your knees. Or, at least it’s not good for my right one. So, I have been limping around and hobbling up stairs for the past 5 days. But, at least I tried.

Then I took up knitting.

But that’s a whole OTHER story. And I don’t have that much to write about these days, so I’ll save it.

Oh, and I also managed to catch a nasty head cold. From my husband. And who says he never gives me anything…

(If you were here, I could ask my child to do the buh-duh-chink on the drums so that you could share in my headache love for music produced on loud instruments by small children.)

So, anyway the bad thing that we’ve got going on now is the ever-on-the-horizon addiction to:

*pop on over and order yours at drugstore.com if you’d like*

Afrin. It’s my last resort. I don’t use it unless I have had a few bad nights of sleep due to inability to breathe OR if I feel like I am choking/suffocating just trying to drink a glass of wine water, which is what was happening on Saturday night.

So, I use the Afrin. And it works miracles.

But then I need it again. And it felt SO GOOD the first time that I can’t NOT use it.

And then I sleep better, so I vow that I will try not to use it the next day. But YOU KNOW that it seems to wear off faster, and by lunch time I can’t breathe.

Slippery slope.

Now I will have to decide when to go into withdrawal.

I think it’s not today. I really like NOT being a mouth breather.