sugar, cabbages and rabbit tales


It’s just after midnight, and I have tried sleeping, but I think I have ingested too much sugar this Easter and now it won’t let me brain rest. So, now it is Easter Monday and here I am, sitting in my bed, probably talking to myself.

I have probably told you this a long time ago, but I was actually born on an Easter Monday, and every decade or so I celebrate a birthday on an Easter Monday again (but not this year). My mother always said the Easter Bunny brought me and they found me under a cabbage leaf in the vegetable garden. I don’t know if my mother ever read Peter Rabbit, but I sense some appropriation in her tale!. I have to admit, I fell for the story for many years, and loved it even when I knew it was the birds and bees who brought babies and not rabbits.

We had a delightful day with my sister and her daughter’s family, at sister’s home. Petite Fille and her parents were with us as well. Petite Fille is not allowed sugar but was permitted a few “treats” today. She was amazed, and even enjoyed an ice cream cone. She kept saying she was hungry, but she only wanted a treat. Grandma made sure she got her treat – it is Easter after all and if a Grandmother can’t conspire with a granddaughter, well, what is the use of being a grandparent? Her Daddy was in a state of anxiety at the sugar dose, but her mother turned a blind eye. She knows a child has to join in and not be restricted all the time. Easter over, and back to her healthy diet. Grandma will behave too!

Thinking back, I think the last time we had a large extended family Easter was the year my mother became ill and sadly had to be placed in care. If does make it a little sad to gather when we all sense the absence of family.

My sister has a large photograph os her husband BIL who died a couple of years ago, and sitting at her dining teacher, he looked down upon us. I kept thinking, damn you should be here too – and my dear Dad, as well as poor old Mum, who lives in her confused world of dementia. The cycle of life indeed.

I wrote about 1200 words of my story yesterday, but now I think I will delete a chunk of it – too pedestrian. I don’t view it as a waste, as it helped me to develop a couple of characters, and I am forming an idea on how to make the story more edgy, so all has been worthwhile. It’s a process, as is everything creative. Well, life is in general, isn’t it – a process?

The sugar doesn’t appear to have worn off, as yet, so I foresee a sleep in on my horizon, if the dog and our granddaughter allow it.

Maybe a cup of tea in the meantime?

tea too

If there were only two kinds of cereal left in the world, what would you choose?

porridge 1

As a child, it would have been rice bubbles, for sure. Probably, corn flakes would have followed. Both served with warm milk and extra sugar.

Today, being all grown up, considerations of health have taken over pure desire. Number one, would be rolled oats, especially as they can be used in so many recipes. It is also claimed they are a help with lowering cholesterol.

The second choice would be corn flakes. My doctor always tell me to eat something highly refined like corn flakes when I am suffering with diverticulitis, so there is always a packet in the pantry. Indeed, they are a comfort food for me, now.

I need to eat both with warm milk, and sadly with sugar. In the past, I have joked about having porridge with my sugar, each morning. To compensate, I now use dextrose instead of refined sugar, and try, I really do try, to cut back on even the dextrose. That might be why I have vegemite toast most day. White bread – we won’t go there.


Tupperware cereal bowls

As a child, we ate porridge rarely. When we did, it seemed a special occasion. My mother always served the porridge in those coloured, plastic, Tupperware, bowls. The fact that the porridge was not in our usual, china, everyday, bowls made it ever more of an occasion. I mean, Tupperware was, well, special. It was the sixties, and plastic was the way to go. Modern, man.

off the wagon

I feel off the wagon, last night. I know, it is shameful. I am weak. weak, weak.

I ate ice-cream. Vanilla. Three scoops.

Sugar, Sugar, SUGAR! Tormentor thy name is Sugar!

I can just see where this will lead me. Flamingo Tubby Tummy Waddler, homeless, sniffing through garbage bins to lick empty sugar sachets, screaming “my kingdom for a cup of sugar!” into the cold dark night. Woe is me.

It was very nice, though…well worthy of the guilt and self loathing. I hid the rest of the  ice cream at the back of the freezer, so that no one can see it.

Except I know where it is …

The sweetness of success

I wrote a few weeks ago about giving up sugar. It wasn’t as hard as I thought, though that said, I can’t say it has been entirely painless.

I have found that if I eat protein for breakfast, such as an egg, then I have a much easier day of being sugar free. If I eat healthy main meals then the snacking is not so tempting.

So far, I appear to have lost 2kgs without any other change to my diet, or any increase in exercise. It is a slow process, but at least something is happening.

If I can just shed 1 kg a month for the next 12 months, I will be well within my healthy weight range.

I  actually think  I feel better, and I have more energy. I haven’t been suffering from the mid afternoon slump that I usually experience.So far, I think I have gained more positives, than things I have missed out on.

There will always be another chocolate cake to eat. I don’t have to rush.