The Staff Of Life or The Tale of Lunch

Contemplating Lughnasadh, the coming of school, and fall had brought to me a measure of nostalgia as I pitter pattered away at my keyboard. Earlier in the day  I had read for a few hours about the passing of Lammas, when heavily it occurred to me: I need a sandwich! 

Of course nothing could be more appropriate for thinking of the harvest. 

So I went to fix one up for myself. (You see I was raised in Texas, and when you’re about to do something you’re, “fix’in,” to do it.) To my chagrin there was no bread! How can this be?

All I have done all morning is gaze at photos of wheat and articles about harvest time and tasty fall types of food!

No bread=Not acceptable.

So I laced up my tennis shoes and took a walk down to the Ravelin Bakery, in Denton, Tx. A place filled with charm and comfort for the mind, knowing that whatever delectable morsel one should choose, that it is wholly organic, local in its origin, vegan, and delicious. 

Never can you make a harder choice in a bakery than when you are hungry!

I settled upon a loaf of semolina parmesan. Lovely. Pre-sliced.

So happily I tottered back to my little house, to be greeted by my cats Mina & sweet little Aida. I patted them on their fuzzy heads and proceeded to make myself the most fantastic sangy of all my days. 

Now my mouth was watering, and I now proceeded to tear through my kitchen like Mr. Hyde desiring above all things some arugula, & white cheddar: “

“…and it was as an ordinary secret sinner that I at last fell before the assaults of temptation.” -Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde

Haha! Temptation indeed.

So, my tower of tasty completed, I plated it with some carrot sticks and chips, and left it sitting on the table,waiting for my return.

Tea. What a resplendent idea.

A lovely glass of ice cold ginger peach tea was the only thing to make this working lunch, “THE LUNCH.”

So I set forth to pour a glass for myself. 

It was when my back was turned, as is true historically in most cataclysmic events that evil sprang forth.

A poof of fur, a plop on the floor and in an instant: THE CAT… HAD MY SANDWICH.

“NOOOoooooOOOOooooooo!!!!!!!” I cried to the heavens. What karmic darkness was this? What could I possibly have done to deserve such malice from the gods?

YOU,” I glared at Aida.

What?” She looked back at me feigning innocence and perfection of kitten-kind.

“Ugh……” I sighed, knowing that she had won, and that she was eating the spoils of her espionage with happiness, vigor, and the knowledge that it was the best damn sangy ever made.  

I had a potato chip.


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