Bleh.

I'm getting old. I think I need to do one of those detox diets, for real. Not one of those things where you suck down some vile concoction of cayenne pepper, syrup and water, mind you (Bulimia, much? Been there, done that. Had the therapy.) I don't have the stomach for that. Nope, I'm considering detoxing for a week, eating nothing but fruit, vegetables, the occasional whole grain and some lean protein here and there. And nuts, but not the dill-pickle flavor cashews I had last night. Those made me puffy and tired, not what I hope to get out of the detox diet. When Michael Phelps is my age, he'll quit smoking wacky weed; he won't want anything that makes him more tired than he already is.

I was chatting with a friend the other day and she pointed out that diabetics can drink vodka. Ergo, I think it should be included in my detox diet. But what about coffee? It is brown, which is a very natural color, but it has caffeine. I suspect I might sleep better if I cut out caffeine. No, no, in all seriousness, I think I might detox for a week, maybe with this diet, which appears to be more or less reasonable. But, oh, how I will miss the caffeine... And, yes, I know I should eat healthier all the time, but let's be realistic. I love me some raw fries. And cheese fries. And cheeseburgers. And liquor.

Speaking of things I miss, how about the Grass Cam? I feel tentatively excited, anticipating the re-greening of our grass in the spring (No, not that kind of grass, Mr. Phelps.) If you look closely, you will see one tiny piece of green grass. In my darkest moments, I imagine this is because the rest of the grass is dead, never to return. I think (and hope, and dream) that his little grassy friends will follow suit as the weather gets warmer and go green. At least the grass is still pretty thick, right? Right?



Do you hear the train in the background? I like trains and find them relaxing. Hope you do, too.

Namasté, y'all!

PS Have just realized I cannot do detox this week as husband has brought something called "Loaded Baked Potato Pringles" into the house, along with a huge bag of gingersnaps. Oh, well. Maybe next week. Maybe I should invite Michael Phelps over. He might really enjoy these snacks.