Real

Sometimes when you are sick with a stomach bug or whatever
(:::cough::: chemo) you get to the point where you are convinced you
might possibly not ever be able to eat real food. Again. Ever.

That's where I was, around midweek. Thinking that dairy and tomato
sauce might be out of the question for a couple of months. And a
hundred other things except for chicken soup and the starchy foods
recommended by some of my friends via Twitter.

Chicken soup. I can live on chicken soup, right ? I accepted that
thought. Reluctantly, but with "it could be worse".

Then yesterday my friend, another one of my cooking angels, brought
over this crazy dinner of breaded chicken cutlets fried in olive oil,
ravioli, and simple homemade tomato sauce. She more or less said
"maybe we can get some real food into you and you'll feel better". My
brain said "don't do that". My stomach suddenly popped back into its
socket and said "hey... Uh, let's have a little". I had a kiddie
portion, and sat on the couch and waited to be sorry. Stomach said
"more please". I was deeee-lighted. Good stuff! Simple homemade food.
Real.

Today I went to work for a while and had more Good Stuff for lunch.
Not wanting to rock the boat, at work.

Around 2:30 my sister kidnapped me and took me to a bar. Obviously I
wasn't about to drink but she and her fiancée (!!!! Big fun here last
night!!!) were celebrating with friends and it was about 70 and sunny
and wonderful on the patio. Listening the the group of people
laughing and joking and feeling the sun warm my back was bliss. I even
stole 3 glorious sips of beer.

The evening continued with the Boyfriend, now known as Future Brother
In Law, teaching my son how to make this insanely good grilled salmon
with a maple soy sauce glaze. YUM! I feel *normal* tonight. Really.