Pigging Out...........

Lap Band Style..........


Yes, we made our yearly pilgrimage to the farm. I'm a city girl, you know. But, once a year, we travel the 45 minutes to my version of a farm. They grow things and have animals and stuff. Well, I know for sure that they have pumpkins and apples. And, they have this little petting zoo. Yep, it's a farm. They also have lots of yummy food stands---sausages, kettle corn, nachos, french fries, ice cream, hot dogs, cheeses, carmel apples, funnel cakes. You name it, they fry it, cover it with goo or melt butter on it. In addition to that, they have several lovely, to-die-for shopes on the farm selling crafs, antiques, china, Christmas decor, garden stuff---oh, you know---MY kind of stuff. However, in order to get from the parking lot to the stores---you have to walk through the pumpkin display area, the petting zoo area, the cornstalk maze area and then directly through the food stands. Anyway, you know me, the city girl that I am, as soon as I get out of my vehicle, I am on one mission and one mission only----I want to get into those shops. Yeah, yeah, the pumpkins are nice...not sure why anyone would want to grow so many. Oh, yeah, a cute little goat...seen one seen them all. The cornstalk maze looks fun.....not my thing. But, then.....OOOOH, the smells....do I EVEN need to tell you about the smells of kettle corn popping, french fries frying and sausage simmering in peppers and onions? Like Emeril says "too bad you don't have Smellivision" or in this case....smellacomputer. A world of tantalizing delectable temptations lies between me and my true destination. In my pre-lap band days, I'd loose my willpower somewhere between the overhormoned pumpkin and the snaking line to enter the cornstalk maze. Thus, delaying my visit to the shops and lightening my wallet---preventing me from buying some extra things I have to have but definitely do not need. And, of course, it would also cut into my shopping time. There's no way any shop owner worth his or her cash receipts who would allow a woman balancing a large drink, a bag of kettle corn, a plate of fries, a dripping sausage sandwich and a funnel cake into their quaint little shops. That food was standing between me and where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do. But, not today.