With all the buildup, this little bowl seems a bit humble and plain now, but it was so satisfying and delicious a melange of simple and fresh that I am compelled to share it. The bottom layer, the foundation, if you will, was a generous glob of Fage 2% (an aside: in the battle of Greek yogurt, Fage takes the day in the 2% category, but Chobani has surpassed the rest in 0%). To me, a bowl of Fage is like a ready-to-burst cloud (if rain came from cows): soft and thick, smooth and dense, heavy, yet at the same time light enough to float in the air. Resting on this dairy nimbus was a chopped peach, rescued from an imminent trip to the garbage (call me frugal, even cheap, or just downright gross, but I will eat around moldy patches on fruit if I deem it still "good"). Call it God, intelligent design, or nothing but a one in Avogadro's number chance, but the full force of nature went into making certain fruits delicious. I don't care how many years of training a chef has or how many hours or how much thought and technique go into preparing a dish, nothing ever tastes as good as some of the things that just grow on trees or sit in the dirt. Knowing strawberries were in my future, I decided I wanted a little texture and crunch before they came on the scene. I sprinkled on some homemade muesli (really just a term to make throwing all the oat, nut, grain, and dried fruit leftovers in the cabinet sound impressive) inspired by Alayna's. Briefly, I contemplated layering on some banana soft serve, then my gaze fell upon the already hulking pile of dirty dishes; I decided to spare myself the task of washing the food processor as well. Instead, I dusted the peaches with cinnamon and drizzled on some maple syrup for sweetness. Chopped fresh strawberries ($3.26 a pound organic at Trader Joe's - makes them taste even sweeter!) topped the concoction, followed by another smattering of muesli.
Yes, Virginia, people really do put pictures of their food on the internet for public consumption (at first the pun was unintentional, then I decided to roll with it). I claim no skill whatsoever in composition, lighting, or food design, so feel free to fill your belly with laughter at these photos (ok, ok, I'll stop with the lame figurative language now; even I'm cringing).
My last day ever (?) at work is in three days. The question mark is superfluous; my time at Daniel Webster Animal Hospital really is over, but I can keep from crying by putting it there. To be short (since I was so long-winded about so petty as matter as breakfast, why not be short about a four-year experience that has shaped who I am at my core and changed the course of my life?), it's been a source of challenge, learning, discovery (mostly about myself), frustration, intense sadness, pride, and a quiet and bone-deep sense of happiness like nothing I'd felt previously. When doubts about moving and the endeavor of vet school creep in, I remind myself of this sensation and what it means - this is what you want to do, what you are at your deepest core prepared and designed to do, Megan. When nothing about my impending (6 days from now) future is certain and it all seems overwhelming, these Hallmark card sentiments have kept me calm, sane, and committed . (Look, Mrs, Thistle, I'm weaving in another theme!) As with my shoes, I hate to leave this place behind, but I anticipate more challenges, disappointments, heartbreak, and true joy in a new hospital, in what seems like a whole new life.
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