November 25 was opening day of Eating Season here at McKim/Skene stadium.
Last night we battled the pasta maker and cranked out "Oh, man! This is good" roasted butternut squash and goat cheese ravioli with sage butter.
Today we began devouring the corn bread I made for tomorrow's stuffing.
We've checked, what my husband calls, our "strategic butter reserve" to make sure we have enough on hand to bake the dozens of butter cookies we will force upon our weight-watching guests throughout December. A friend used to ask, "Are you making those f**king cookies?" Resistance is futile.
I will end the season on a cruise so I should be up to 225 lbs. by New Year's Eve.
As I strain to button my jeans in January, I'll just remind myself that food is love. And then I'll put on loose-fitting sweatpants.
Or I'll just start skipping lunch and increase my weightlifting regimen to make up for the additional calories.
Damn, I should have put sage butter on the cornbread. Oh well, there's always tomorrow... and tomorrow... and every tomorrow between now and December 31.
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