Appetizing Muse

My parents left for home yesterday. Their six-day stay was not long enough, but that just seems to be the way of it. I wish they lived around the corner instead of hundreds of miles away.

I'm not accustomed to eating three meals per day. This is a personal preference which has been deeply ingrained within me over the years. There's no reason for it other than I like lunchtime, but find food in the mornings and evenings unappetizing unless it's a special occasion such as Christmas or some other seasonal celebration.

My parents eat three times a day, so we seemed to spend a lot of time in the kitchen cooking, eating or washing dishes. After two days, I started rolling my eyes to the ceiling when dinnertime rolled around, a mere four or five hours after lunch. I did this on purpose to get my Mum to respond, which she did. "You're awful" or "you're mean" are her two favorite phrases in reference to my reactions.

We had some good chow, though, so I won't complain too much. We also spent an afternoon at my cousins Sheila's ranch, where I absconded with goodies from her garden: potatoes, cabbage, cucumbers, onions, mustard pickle, jams and jellies and fresh eggs from the chicken coop.