I just keep thinking I will wake up as a great and dutiful blogger. And then instead I wake up disheveled, tired and starving for sultana bran.
Sultana bran, you say? That is a generic and British version of Raisin Bran. And I have no idea why, because I generally do not care for raisins, but it’s now one of two things that I eat constantly. Around the clock. In lieu of all other foods. Sultana bran and pretzels. Which I also hate. And which are pretty American (or maybe German- who the hell knows or cares), but we found a decent version in this country.
It’s weird but I actually spend a good part of each day of my life standing in the kitchen, opening the fridge, closing it, opening a cupboard, closing it, repeating each step multiple times, weighing options, calculating things in my head, and then I eat an entire bag of pretzels. Sometimes dipped in humus but often plain. Or I eat sultana bran, unless we’re out of milk. Or out of sultana bran. And then I eat pretzels. I don’t know how it happened that I eat constantly two things I don’t like that much- why I am so obsessed- how this all came to pass. What is ambivalent, repetitive eating? What does it mean? When Bryan goes out of town and I have no compelling reason to cook, it’s like a sultana bran free-for-all up in here.
In a desperate attempt to expand my breakfast repertoire, I recently asked Bryan to make me toast. When he brought me the slice I asked why he only buttered the middle. “It melts”, he said. I am pretty sure that’s not how butter works- at least not the physics involved with toasted bread. I really hate when the outside is not delicious.
So the point was I am a lame blogger. And that’s one of my favorite topics to blog about. Anyway, sorry. Sorry sorry sorry.
There’s a lot I should be writing about. But this post is coming to you while my family is currently living la bonne vie en France. My mom, Micah, Janelle and our little threesome are all in Paris seeing the sights, showing Jonah how to be a world traveler. Also we are looking hard for mini-berets.
Then we all had back to London for a proper American Thanksgiving. I am shocked by how available and heavily marketed American Thanksgiving products are in London. No, no I am not.
It will be a wonderful beginning to a happy holiday season that we are looking forward to in London. Big changes. Bryan has accepted a job with a new company to start in the new year and so now we are firmly entrenched in London for a time. Or forever. Who knows. Only adonai. And Miss Cleo.