I'm glad you asked. During the time I blogger-slacked, as it were, I learned to cook.
Let me clarify. I learned to cook better than I did before. This did not come from a sudden interest in pots and pans. The metamorphosis occurred when diabetes hit the castle. Homer and I were diagnosed the same day!
It was time for his mammogram.
Now we live in a world of blood sugar meters, expensive test strips (hard to find for animals), sugar substitutes and pills that make people crazy.
I, in my good-natured Queen way, set upon a path of desperate cooking research to help
myself him manage this most aggravating condition. I'm exhausted trying to cook for him. NOTHING satisfies that dog. I even dyed the Stevia orange, sprinkled it on lettuce and fried some up in a pan to make artificial Cheetos. But do you think he appreciated that?
Maybe this is my way of saying to the blogworld, "I have diabetes."
There. I've said it.
Not to worry.
I've got this.
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