When I woke up this morning, the heavens above were screaming one thing at me:
Not the buttermilk kind. The sweet potato apple cider oatmeal kind.
Running late on this fine Monday morning, I slapdash mashed a lunch together, starting with a yog mess.
Not the Greek yog kind. The poor man’s plain yog kind.
Afternoon snackage was more randomness. Some carrots and a bag of these, which I scored at the marathon expo.
Not the greasy kind of Cheetos. The wannabe “baked” kind.
Dinner was a fall harvest feast. Butternut squash mashed with coconut oil, roasted brussel sprouts and a meaty kielbasa sausage link (with dijon mustard) to top it all off.
Not the real meat kind. The Tofurky kind.
However, an after dinner drink kicked any memory of the not-so-tasty kielbasa dog (sorry Katharina – I did not love!) letdown.
Not the alcoholic kind. The POM Kiwi spritzer kind.
I got home to work, and “When, what to my wondering eyes should appear?” but a small miniature box at my door with a bottle of Xagave so dear.
Not the artificial kind. The mix of natural blue and white agave kind.
Thanks to Robyn and the lovely people at Xagave for sending me all these goods. You are too good to a gal!
So, what’s a gal to do now? Perhaps some writing, dishwashing and if she wants to go to San Fran, a lil’ baking as well.
Not the Paula Deen kind. The Healthy Everythingtarian kind.