I am desperately trying to keep up the regime I was on while in my “medi-spa”. Trust me when I tell you, not yet two days out and it’s not as easy as one might imagine. Every day my trays arrived with exactly what I was supposed to eat, in precisely the acceptable portion sizes. After several weeks the eye does become accustomed to portions. That part is not a problem. Yet.
To accomplish one of my goals, which may seem ridiculous to some, but not to a butter slatherer like moi meme, I bought boxes of individual portions of butter so I could stay on message. According to the dietician I am allowed 20 grams of butter per day. Each of the little rectangles of individually wrapped buerres, is 10 grams. You would be surprised at how much mileage I can get out of those two little packages. My new motto is: scrape, scrape, scrape.
Before, when confronted with a slab of butter (in a lovely dish or butter whatsit of course) I was incapable of judging quantity. I’m trying to transfer the notion of quality over quantity from my wardrobe to my meals. One is easier than the other.
|Delicious donut or Saturn peaches.|
After buying three boxes of butter, I then headed to my favorite market to buy the “donut” peaches I discovered in rehab. When MRFLIF saw them he said, “I’m not eating those things.” Fine with me.
Then I visited my friend Mr. Google to see how many calories there are in a donut peach. He told me 60.
Oh yes, just for the record, I don’t count calories.
* When I told you a couple of months ago how sick Charlotte was, she was put through a battery of gruesome tests. As near as I can translate from the French she has rheumatoid arthritis and she’s a sick girl. Our veterinarian, whom we love as I’ve said, told us it’s not fatal, but it’s not curable. She was on massive doses of cortizone and now progressively less. The cortizone makes her ravenously hungry and yet she has lost a great deal of weight. Maybe some of you have some thoughts on the subject.