“I’m late! I’m late! For a very important date! No time to say hello, goodbye! I’m late! I’m late! I’m late!”
When I married my husband, the last deserted boyfriend sent us, as a wedding gift, a pitcher modeled on a rabbit in a morning coat. My mother said “Oh, he sends his regrets.”
“What?” I asked, distracted by thing in my hands.
“He’s late, he’s late, for a very important date, ” she quipped. “There’s a message in this.” There may have been a message in the pitcher. We used it at Easter a time or two, but really, every time I went to pour something from it, I was a little creeped out. Still, when I think of the White Rabbit, I think of it, sitting on the shelf in our house in Montana.
Except tonight, when I am evoking the lapine one because truly I must go to bed, I have an enormous to-do list for tomorrow and need to be on my way to Missouri on Thursday morning. And I don’t want to be late.
So, although I’d hoped to write about the paradigms of dieting, or something witty and helpful, and certainly I wanted to thank so many people who rushed to encourage me over yesterday’s failure to reach the mark. Today is, was, another day, as is tomorrow. For now, I can only leave you with this melody from Stan Getz, and the promise that I’ll be back tomorrow.
Target number 55. Steps walked 1577. For breakfast: 6 oz of raspberries, hard-boiled egg, banana. For lunch: fresh ravioli with chicken and mushroom. In the afternoon, 2 cups of watermelon. For dinner two cups of red beans and rice with two ounces sausage, a cup of cottage cheese.