Yesterday was Saturday. My husband followed his usual routine, well almost. He skipped his trip to the lumberyard and hardware stores.

But he did make his weekly venture to Wal Mart. Well he is from Arkansas.

Of course I receive a call from him while he's in the grocery section.

"I shouldn't have come to the grocery store while I'm hungry."

I am slightly amuse and scared at the same time. I know he will return with gluten filled, genetically modified, over processed, artificially flavored and high fructose corn syrup delicacy that my will power will succumb to. So I give him a couple of simple instructions oatmeal, chicken breast, bisquick. I know he won't get the gluten-free or even fat free bisquick but I took a chance.

We are both starting to feel the urge to stock up on winter foods for the pantry. There is huge gap in our preferences.

Second phone call: " what size bisquick?"

There are only two of us here and when our son, duaghter-in-law and grandson visit they are pretty much gluten and dairy free.

My answer is the middle size.

He arrived home and put the groceries away quickly before I could see what he bought and handed me a bouquet of flowers.

Uh oh!

Sitting on the counter was the largest box of Bisquick and the largest container of oatmeal I have ever had in our home.

"A family of 12 walked up and I couldn't get to the smaller sizes."
Hmm, even they didn't look at the gigantic super-size.

I didn't want to know, so I proceeded to make chicken and dumplins that turned out great. Yay for me. I used cream instead of milk. Not fat free.  See what I mean about self control.

This morning I asked if he wanted oatmeal or pancakes. He wanted a surprise. So I got the bisquick and the griddle out and happily  began  mixing everything together rather excited that I had all of the ingredients. I even had Irish butter made from the milk of grass fed happy cows.

I was thinking  that it has been so long since we have had pancakes as I whisked the mixture. Pancakes. Real old fashioned supposedly unhealthy pancakes with butter and maple syrup. Maple syrup. I "paniced" myself to the pantry and found a bottle of maple syrup with an inch of syrup left.

I held the bottle up to my dear husband and he said, "I guess we'll have oatmeal." 

I am grateful for being able to adjust and adapt and understand that little everyday disappointments are not tragedies. I am grateful for the food we have to eat.

Have a beautiful Sunday morning.  

Lotsa Love,

Patrina