Being somewhat vaguely connected to certain things, it had not hit me until this morning that I had accepted a dinner invitation with a group of friends and neighbors in Bay City for this evening that might be a problem for Lenten aspirations. It was.
I had counted on Terry to have one of his wonderful soups and thought I could plead some impending medical proceedure and get away with only eating soup. No soup in sight and I got a ribbing from Brian about eating solid foods. Well, that's all there was and I don't like being a pain in the posterior oriface, so I dug in, enjoyed and start over tomorrow on no chewables. And no more dinners out until Easter.
Dinner was great and the roast beef, in particular, was very tender and flavorful. (Though a couple days on fluids could have factored in.) When asked how the meat was prepared, Mark just gave all and sundry a look that said either, "I'd have to kill you if I told you," or "I did something inapproriate with that meat and you don't want to know." Well. It was good, anyway, and the company was, as well.
I sat in the window at a smaller table with Bowen, Michael and Wes. The last making references to boredom that inspired me to say:
"Well. I have a whisk that could change your life."