So before I drift off to sleep let me meditate on sweetness. A sensation with which I have a complex relationship. As s child no meal was "live" for me unless it had a dessert. Ask my sister. She'll tell you. There had to be jello or Pepperidge Farm refrigerator cake or gingerbread or something in order for that sense of completion to set it. I am a natural born sugar addict. In junior high with no one policing me lunch was most often three dixie cups of vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce. Much better than sloppy Joe's which had about as much sugar. By my late twenties, working long hours in the film business, five cups of coffee and cookies for lunch was not an unusual routine. I could put away an entire package of Nutter Butter cookies in a single sitting. No one taught me to cook much beyond spaghetti and nutrition was something I had to learn about the hard way.
Now so much as a glass of wine or one Mallowmar can be my undoing. By this I mean I turn into lobster woman. Ridiculous rashes in the worst places - palms of my hands, my shins, the tip of my nose - Gack! I will gladly give up the Girl Scout cookies to avoid the cortisone. The white death, as I now call sugar, is something I try to avoid like the plague.
But I do cheat now and again. The red velvet cake I bought at Zaro's for dinner at friend's last night was hard to resist. Red dye # 40 - how yummy.
Sweetness is something to be enjoyed in small doses I realize and its value can be fleeting. Even though some of my ancestors made their living by selling sugar processing equipment to the sugar can plantations in the West Indies, and the sugar industry is still cranking out the "white death" right here in Yonkers at the Domino Sugar factory down the river, it something I have pretty much sworn off and must seek sweetness ( or good things) from events and memories in life.
Sweetness is my husband sitting in my studio all day for me Sat to receive visitors, so I could attend a training.
Sweetness is Jon Ossoff coming first in the Georgia special election this past week even if he still needs a runoff. After the continuing trials of 45's admin, and the horror possible in France with Marine LePen and the far right - Front National, it is sweet to see our phone calls bear fruit and see one small wave turn the opposite direction of this negative government. Let's hope this sweetness lasts and grows.
Now so much as a glass of wine or one Mallowmar can be my undoing. By this I mean I turn into lobster woman. Ridiculous rashes in the worst places - palms of my hands, my shins, the tip of my nose - Gack! I will gladly give up the Girl Scout cookies to avoid the cortisone. The white death, as I now call sugar, is something I try to avoid like the plague.
But I do cheat now and again. The red velvet cake I bought at Zaro's for dinner at friend's last night was hard to resist. Red dye # 40 - how yummy.
Sweetness is something to be enjoyed in small doses I realize and its value can be fleeting. Even though some of my ancestors made their living by selling sugar processing equipment to the sugar can plantations in the West Indies, and the sugar industry is still cranking out the "white death" right here in Yonkers at the Domino Sugar factory down the river, it something I have pretty much sworn off and must seek sweetness ( or good things) from events and memories in life.
Sweetness is my husband sitting in my studio all day for me Sat to receive visitors, so I could attend a training.
Sweetness is Jon Ossoff coming first in the Georgia special election this past week even if he still needs a runoff. After the continuing trials of 45's admin, and the horror possible in France with Marine LePen and the far right - Front National, it is sweet to see our phone calls bear fruit and see one small wave turn the opposite direction of this negative government. Let's hope this sweetness lasts and grows.
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