Today my lunch consisted of a stale oatmeal raisin cookie left over from a Friday-night fundraiser combined with a generous smear of chunky peanut butter on a slice of Wonder Bread from the middle of the package which, unlike the slices near the open end of the package, didn’t glow green when placed under a black light. As for the peanut butter, it was smooth when I bought it, but I’ve long since learned to not make eye contact with my food because, after all, a mom’s got to do what a mom’s got to do.
But why so pathetic a lunch, you ask? Because, a) I didn’t plan well over the weekend and b) we live miles and miles away from the nearest store of any kind so on any given day, we have no choice but to make do with what’s on hand.
While I love living in the middle of nowhere, it usually requires a level of organization and planning that escapes me all too often. If I don’t make a list and carry it with me, then I won’t know what to buy at the store, but if I carry the list with me, my husband and kiddies can’t add things to it so it becomes useless anyway. You can see my problem. And please don’t get me started about toilet paper.
So, today I munched on a stale cookie and dubious peanut butter and laughed. Today I foraged for what’s on hand. Last week, hunky Italian men with names like Renaldo and Luca delivered handmade pasta, fresh seafood and bottles of wine to me while I murmured “grazi” before “accidently” dropping my fork so they would have to bend over and pick it up.
Sadly, as you can see, today’s lunch was a bit of a downgrade.
So forgive me if I tend to dwell on my Venetian adventure. Because, had I been in Venice, even if I didn’t WANT to go out to eat (which I don’t see happening any time soon), I could have waddled just a few blocks to the nearest market where fresh produce, gallons of wine and unimaginable piles of seafood would have beckoned to me like Renaldo’s and Luca’s bent over behinds.
Which leads us to today’s blog entry – Part II of the every day life of Venice. Let’s start with the food, shall we? And while you’re reading this, I’m going to go burn that peanut butter….
Tomatoes the size of my head – what’s not to love?
This is my idea of a sandwich shop!
Don’t even get me started on the fresh seafood. I live in Indiana, after all. The closest thing to fresh seafood around here are the snapper turtles in Flatrock River.
As for the wine, I like to buy in bulk, don’t you?
Should my peanut butter make me violently ill, I’ll have to call 911, but in Venice, I could go to the hospital in style.
Not to mention, the hospital pharmacy is just that darn cool. I wonder if they carry Viagra…
On second thought, maybe I WILL just go out to eat. Just think of the time I’ll save by not having to do dishes.
The real question is, which ristorante do I pick? Decisions, decisions….