(Self) Satisfied (Git Maybe?)

It just so happened that just the other day, I was in my car.  This is already cause for alarm and panic.

The athlete I like to think I am.

We add to this I was on the road in Short Pump, on a Saturday during shopping prime time #1 (when the stores are just opening).

We also throw in (just for good measure) the fact that there was weather occurring.  A cloud in the sky!  Oh no!  Where is the bread, the water, the generators!  How does this car thing work again?!

A long sigh escaped my lips, and then…  I paused in my thoughts, a little shocked at the sigh.

Not the fact that I sighed.  It was the type of sigh… not the weary sigh of hating driving in Central VA during any type of non perfectly blue skies and non-working (or non-existent) turn signals. 

It was a sigh of deep and pure contentment.

The athlete I actually am.  A blur of gasping and poor posture.
I know I’m not cool!

I guess I was due, but I’m not sure from where it came from.  My life (at that moment in time or just in general) was far from perfect… and yet right then and there I feel deeply satisfied.  

Everything is starting to click a little more.  Bit by bit each day really.  Getting more comfortable with sense of self, with life and with circumstance.  Feeling stronger, healthier, and happier than I’ve felt in quite some time.  Stress was still stress… but not nearly as stressful.  Which makes no sense at all.

However, this is me where this is all coming from.  Deep from within my soul.  I learned a very long time ago, never expect any sense to come out of me!

Certainly not as cool as The Husband and
his fancy moon boot.


Once upon a time, I studied abroad “Across The Pond”, as they say.  The very first meal I enjoyed there (and I did enjoy it) was breakfast.  Good to start with breakfast.  It’s one of the three most important meals of the day.

As with all quality foods, you must start
with a quality ingredient.

The elements of said breakfast involved the familiar (fried egg), the surprising (what do you mean this is bacon), and the “What the… ?”

In all of my not-many-years-at-that-point on the planet, I’d never thought one would have beans for breakfast.*

Yet, it did become one of my friends and constant companions (along with pints of Heineken for for a pound, Cadbury Crunchies, black coffee so that money for sugar and cream could instead go towards more Heineken and some light cigarettes.  

No; I really wasn’t a healthy soul.

But I do believe in the  “What the… ?” piece of that breakfast.  It was simple, satisfying, and it stuck to the ribs.  It was also something I never thought I could re-create at home (and why do that when I could order some pretty bad pizza and wash it down with Miller and light cigarettes that from then thought were slightly inferior, as was any of the chocolate I could get…)

So when I saw a familiar-looking can at my local World Market, I knew two things straight away.

1) I would, once again, have proper, proper, vegetarian and simply scrumptious Beans on Toast.

With practice, precision, time and care,  you too
can enjoy a quality, blurry breakfast.

2)… I would totally add some spinach to it.

I warned you not to expect any sense from me.  

In any case, if you have a World Market or an internet, I’d encourage you to try this some time.  The ingredient list and cook time may seem intimidating… but the end result?  Utterly worth it.

*  To be fair, I never thought to have beans ever.  I was not quite the eater I am today, which I always find ironic.

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