I am not a huge veggie fan.
I should be. We grew up on fresh vegetables. Meat was a rare treat. Coming from a large family, mom had to make due with what we had and made our food do what it needed to stretch feeding 13 kids and a dad. Wow. Whew.
Mom would toss left over this, what in the fresh hell is THAATT!? and make super tasty meals. I never felt poor. We weren’t. We just did not have a lot of funds, let alone discretionary ones.
We learned the valuable lesson of enjoying life with little in the way of material things. We were our own company. Since there were so many of us, we had our own ⚾, basketball 🏀, 🏈 teams.
We would have track races, in the middle of the street. We would line up, on the painted white lines. Straining, taunting, deliberating over who would win the race.
Two combatants, the other bros/sis lining the street, on both sides, cheering on the fierce gladiators.
Ready.
Set.
Go!
Hooting with laughter, feet pounding hot pavement, us Scott’s would be about it, doing our level best to defeat one another.
Sometimes, us young ones raced each other. Leaving the older siblings to duke it out.
Other times, us ALWAYS picked on little sis and bros would challenge the others.
YYYAAAAAAAAAAASSS!🥰
I appreciated being raised healthy. Over time, alas, I used long work hours, being lazy, fifty million other reasons to grab junk/fast food. Fast food has a way of killing your act right real fast!
Slowly, I have been getting back to vegetables. I love green beans so no problem. It’s the rest of the lot that peer forlornly at me, longing to be chosen.
A bit ago, I reluctantly ordered two cans of black eye peas. When they arrived, I shoved those bad boys to the back of the cabinet. They have forever been hollering me to add them to my meal prep.
Tired of their accusatory look and carrying on, I drug them out of the tomb, from whence they came and sadly, poutedly, pointedly sniffed my way into tossing some nasty, black eye peas, to my meal prep. Supposedly, black eye peas are considered to bring prosperity, financially, when eaten for the new year or some kind of yearly ritual situation.
Making sure NOT to kill two poor, innocent birds, with one stone, I decided today would be the day to add a bit of nasty to my diet. Who knows? They may help me beat some young, muscular, possible marriage material hunk, as I get about getting my health life in order.
I shall jog, discreetly, allowing aforementioned muscular, young stud to sweep this 54 year old ready for love young lady off her nasty eating feet.
*Thinking of her love of a name she just did not know, Cassandra dropped her writing and got to getting some nasty in her diet.*
Ready.
Set.
I go!
Come with me.
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe
- THE HAND FROM HEAVEN ✋🏾☁️🧻🤣
- COME SIT AT MY TABLE 🪑❤️🩹
- BELOVEDS, YOU CAN HAVE MY FLOWERS. I DON’T NEED THEM ANYMORE.
- Forgive them, Cassandra, God said to me
- Still In Love
Why Can't I Be Loud?! 