NaNoWriMo excerpt — Day 17

Today is Day 17 of National Novel Writing Month, and I am up to 31,771 words.  This is my latest chapter, one of the lighter-hearted ones.  Enjoy.

Some foods I can take or leave, but then there are some concerning which I have little sense of moderation.  One of those foods is butter.

 Butter has always been a treat – as kids, we might have tasted butter 2 or 3 times a year, and those times were made special thereby.  Sheer joy was when Mom or Grammy gave us lobster and a dish of drawn butter to dip it in.   I remember visiting my Aunt Lydia and Uncle Norman.  At that time, Lydia was baking her own bread – she may still be, at 93 – and every once in a while, I’d have a warm slice of homemade white bread, with butter melting over it, and a glass of homemade birch beer, or homemade root beer, or cold, cold milk that was still in a dairy cow out in the barn that morning.  It was always wonderful.

 Through my adulthood, I have mostly stayed away from butter – probably once every year or so, I’ll go on a butter binge – buy a pound of butter and eat toast, or eggs in butter, or bread and butter.  I haven’t had Saltines and butter for years and years, but I used to finish a sleeve of Saltines with butter on every one.

 And I never just put a thin layer on anything.  I would plaster big chunks of soft butter on my bread, and then add peanut butter, or jelly, or nothing.  I always left the butter out, so it would be spreadable.  But if I hadn’t, that didn’t stop me – I put slabs of cold butter on English muffins, and bagels, and zucchini bread, apple bread, banana bread, French Toast, pancakes, all kinds of yummy, carb-laden foods that quickly became carb-laden, fat-laden foods. 

Oh, yummy butter!
Image courtesy:

 I just came off one of these binges – that is what stopped my logging in its tracks.  I now buy butter mixed with canola oil, as if that is much healthier.  I also eat sandwich thins, instead of regular bread, which allows me to eat sandwiches with bread on both sides for the same carbs as open-faced.  Of course, the trouble with those is that now I can toast them and put butter on each half.

 I don’t know if I’ll ever learn better.  But this time, I waited almost two years since the last butter-fest.  Maybe spreading the time between incidents can make up for the sandwich thins.  But no matter what happens, please don’t set butter in front of me.  I haven’t yet  resorted to eating it off my finger, but the night is young.



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