Please note that what happens on Raccoon Ridge stays on Raccoon Ridge, no matter how dirty your shoes are.
(17 March) Give me the microphone - it's time for my Sunday weigh in. I'm down .6 #. Make sure you see the decimal, six tenths of a pound. I am so ok with that, that's nearly 2 1/2 cubes of butter coming off of somewhere. I just hope it's coming off symmetrically. I am all about the asymmetrical hemlines, but I don't need one haunch noticeably bigger than the other.
I went to geriatric pinochle last night, and although it sounds like a simple outing, I assure you it is fraught with obstacles for someone who is carefully and unobtrusively counting her points. Every attendee is instructed to bring food - it is basically a potluck.
Stuffed mushrooms are standard fare, and there are always ribs of some sort in a crock pot. Breaded orange chicken is also a frequent flyer, and meatballs often make an appearance. As at any potluck, chips and crackers (with their accompanying dips, salsas, and cheese) abound and deviled eggs are plentiful. I have brought my famous brownies so many times that one person even told me to branch out, as I would not want to be known as a "one trick pony". I love to bake, but I have tried to avoid temptation in the past ten weeks by bringing a vegetable tray instead. This ensures that there is something with which I can fill my plate. To top off this feeding frenzy, there is always pie at the end of the evening. The main event is pinochle, if you forgot. After playing six sets of double deck pinochle, players are expected to indulge in a piece of pie, usually served a la mode. As I previously pointed out, the table presents multiple hazards for the point counter.
Last night was no different. I ate my 3 point chicken and guacamole sandwich before I left the house in an effort to not arrive wanting to chew my arm off. Waiting until most people had already dished up ensured that only small plates were left. I hoped to trick my brain into believing that my full plate meant lots of food. I filled it with carrots and pea pods. Someone had brought pineapple slices, and that was a delicious addition. In a weak moment I snagged a small ball of orange chicken, but it was also a strong moment in that I only snagged one. There was a beautiful plate of barbecued pork with hot mustard and sesame seeds, and I figured it would be ok to take one slice of pork. If you have made it this far through my drooling reminiscence, I may as well confess to you that I love chips more than anything. There was a big bowl of those Food Should Taste Good multi grain chips that was calling my name all evening. I did indulge in some chips. At a moment when I was feeling incredibly weak in the choice making department, I discovered a bowl of Southwestern salad. It consisted of black beans, corn, peppers, onions and cilantro, among some other ingredients. It was exactly what I needed for minimal points. I may or may not have had seconds. In the end, this made all the difference for me and I was able to avoid the chocolate pie.
I could wistfully write about each and every tempting delicacy at the table and whether or not I ate one, and maybe you are sure that I already have. (Have I written about all the food or have I eaten it? That is up to you.) This post is not turning out as witty and clever as I had initially expected, but I hope it serves as a reminder to my future self, as well as to those on my same journey, that it is OK to eat that piece of orange chicken, or snap up a chip. It is all about moderation. I may not have had a big loss this week, but I still had a loss. Trust the process. Track those points, people!
