|These spongy white fluff puffs might be the death of me.|
I don't think I have a single TCOY item to list today. Until 6:30 P.M., it was a lost day. We got another nice note from Figgy @ camp, and I did call the camp store to be sure she had a little money in her account to buy a Frost Valley sweatshirt or sweatpants, an annual tradition.
But otherwise, I slept and read and eyed a corner of the blue sky out the window and listened to the laughter of the kids outside and ate way too many soft Jet-Puffed Marshmallows, graham crackers and Ghiradelli chocolate squares. I even plunged a fork into the mallows, two at a time, and toasted them over the gas stove, making s'more after s'more, which I ate alone in the breakfast nook while H. reseeded the lawn and put thatch on top. But no matter how many more I had, could not recapture girlhood and Girl Scout days.
While overeating, I thought of:
- How I liked making s'mores in the toaster oven when pregnant with Figgy.
- How Figgy worries about my health and since she is away, she wouldn't catch me/see me.
- What my doctor would say [not good].
- What H. would say.
- How unhealthy this was.
I didn't even take poor Sug for a single walk. Back to square one. Tomorrow=new day.