Walking. Cross-Costco.

cream-puffs

We’re on a Costco run.

I’m generally not invited on Costco runs due to some Priors, some unfortunate displays of lack of self-control, some poor judgment, followed by regrets: “It won’t happen again.”

But rations were way down, there was some heavy mule work required, and so, here I am, with my adult chaperone.

The front of the store is stacked from floor to ceiling with 65″ HDTVs, deeply discounted laptops and seasonal deals on cell phones. Gadget man’s entire body is trembling, but is pulled forward with a scolding: “You don’t need any more. Come on!”

It’s 10:30 am and I’m working here on an empty stomach. The nose catches a whiff of chocolate and separately, of cheese. Sampling Stations! 

“I’ll catch up with you later.” I can feel the stink eye on my back, but first things first. I turn and head across the store, the stimulated nostrils acting as the GPS. [Read more…]

The temperature rises, the pressure builds, and then…(85 sec)

Breakfast


Too good to eat (almost)

desert-red-fruit

When does food cross the line and become art?

Probably when it looks as amazing as these glass-finish cakes created by Russian bakery artist, Olga Noskovaru.

Don’t miss her dessert wonders at Contemporist or at her Instagram site here: olganoskovaa.


Source: Contemporist

 

 

Dinner

tomato

It was a table laid for men of good will. Who could be the actual expected guests who hadn’t come? But it really was for us. So that woman gave away her best to just anyone? And contentedly washed the feet of the first stranger. Embarrassed, we stared. The table had been spread with a solemn abundance. Piled on the white tablecloth were stalks of wheat. And red apples, enormous yellow carrots, plump tomatoes nearly bursting their skin, watery-green chayote, pineapples malignant in their savagery, calm and orangey oranges, gherkins spiky like porcupines, cucumbers wrapped taut round their watery flesh, hollow red peppers that stung our eyes— all entangled with strands and strands of corn silk, reddish as near a mouth. And all those grapes. They were the deepest shade of purple grape and could hardly wait for the moment they’d be crushed. And they didn’t care who crushed them. The tomatoes were plump to please no one: for the air, for the plump air. […]

We kept eating. Like a horde of living beings, we gradually covered the earth. Busy like people who plow for their existence, and plant, and harvest, and kill, and live, and die, and eat.

~ Clarice Lispector, “The Sharing of Loaves.” The Complete Stories (New Directions. 2015)


Notes:

 

Belly Up: Tiramisu pistache au café sucré


Thank you Eclecticity Light. Don’t miss other wonders at Eclecticity Light including The Best Thing For Being Sad.

Hit me

breakfast,food,hungry,morning


Source: homemadehooplah.com

MMWC*: Where the H*ll is my Breakfast?

baby-heron-cute-adorable


Source: teatimestories (baby blue Heron lookin’ like a pterodactyl). MMWC* = Monday Morning Wake-Up Call.

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

Koustav-Maity-birds-cute-baby


Federal Recreation Lands Photo Contest. Honorable Mention selection for “Wildlife” by Koustav Maity, Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming. Source: Recreation.gov

Push my body to the limit

pasta-food-noodles-cheesy-dinner-hungry

i like to push my body to the limit
but not in the healthy living way
more like in the how much pasta can i eat
before im unable to physically move way

~ angie


Source: Looks Delicious

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