Do you argue with food?

I have to point out that I didn't start the argument. It was food. I'm not sure when it began to speak to me or why I wasn't at all perturbed at the voices, but I am sure they did indeed start the debate.
Oh, I suppose it's not all debate. It encompasses discussion and discourse and even prolonged silences wherein we both seem to understand that anything we say is going to be exactly the wrong thing and will surely lead us into a heated argument.
Yes, there is a hint of marriage to all this, and like marriage sometimes one of us will natter on and on while the other cools to the conversation and is distracted by anything else handy such as rearranging the dinnerware or straightening the place setting. Well that's what I do when the meatloaf waxes poetic about it's ancestry and how the combination of ketchup, dry mustard and brown sugar glaze topping changed the eating habits of children throughout the western world.
"I was forever finished being chokingly dry and inedible and achieved the highest status possible in household fare. I became a staple of the family diet! I had become beloved of children!" Like I didn't know this to be true...sigh.
I used to make about a half gallon of the sweet, slightly tart glaze topping as a fail safe guarantee that the sugar buzz would glaze the very eyes of the suspicious little vermin who would end up dipping green beans and potatoes and broccoli into the calorie soaked mixture, little realizing they were getting actual nutrition.

Forgive me dear reader, but this may show up in a shortened form as I accidentally hit post again as my war with technology continues unabated. I do not understand why they place these commands so close to each other. Damn little techno-f**ks, they're still mad about high school! (sorry M.H.)

Well, food is off the menu now, I've lost my appetite.
I'm gonna make more coffee and see what else I can bullsh*t about.
I got up to admire the first light of dawn, which turned out to be the monitor screen reflection in the top left corner of my living room window.

I am plowing through a selection of books from my priest, and haven't enjoyed this pastime so much since my Robin Hood days circa 1958. I know I did say I was 'done like dinner' with foodtalk today, but I just recalled how I came out of my basement bedroom for a Sunday beef dinner, my mind lost deep in Sherwood Forest, sawed off a great chunk of meat, tore one of my Mom's fresh baked loaves in half and sat down and began eating both with my hands. Violence can erupt so quickly in a situation like that, and I never did get a chance to say why I wanted to experience this forest primeval dining experience...the blows came that fast.
Hopefully these theological writings won't lead me to push some parson from his pulpit and shout my first 'Jee-ee-zus-ah!' in some crazed rapturous frenzy.
I'll keep you posted Jamie!

For those who wonder why I have burst back onto the blogging scene with such good humour I will tell you I am in mourning and this is how I handle it.
My Doctor says it's a healthy thing, but he's the same practitioner who insists I eat lard sandwiches to get more fat in my diet.
"Baloney & cheese is a poor substitute for something as natural as lard, Byron," he railed at me last checkup! "And use white bread dammit! Who knows where these ancient grains have been hiding all these years?"
I asked him about stopping smoking and he yelled, "What are you? Some sort of quitter?"
Yes, I am deep in mourning.