Hello, David

Last night, I was home alone after visiting my brother, his wife and my beautiful nephew, who is about eight months old.

I called the ex, Dick, and was going to invite him over to eat with me. I was preparing a steak chili, which was on my mind since that morning after arranging the cans in the cabinet, having read the back of one of them.

My sister in law and I had gone to the local Mall that day in the hopes of finding a realistic and traditional Santa for my nephew's first Christmas. We are all trying to normalize things despite my mother's killing, and this was one of those activities in the attempt at making the normalization process work.

I called Dick again, no answer on his cell. I decided to make the steak chili anyway, figuring it would last me for a few days. I am not used to cooking for one, having come from a family of five siblings, having cooked for the lot of them for most of my life.

I prepared the chili and it's accompanying cous-cous. Depsite having omitted most of the ingredients the canned recipe called for, such as sugar, cinammon, tomato soup and oregano, the chili tasted pretty damned good.

After I finished eating, Dick calls. He was in the supermarket, buying King Crab.

As I previously relayed, Dick is a Taurus and their fascination with food is uncanny. What is also unfair is his ability to not pack on the pounds and cut a very striking figure.

For instance, true to form, I was speaking to him the other night, telling him instead of meeting him, I was going with a friend who was picking up something she wanted from FreeCycle. I happened to mention I was eating a grilled cheese sandwich, something quick and easy because I was getting picked up in few minutes.

No sooner were the words out of my mouth, I heard the lust of food in his breath before he said that sounds so good; and with that, he ended the phone call because he was well on is way to making his own grilled cheese concoctions. It is literally as he became blinded or mesmerized by the suggestion of food.

So he asked me if I wanted King Crab. No, Dick, I do not, I just ate. He asked if he could come over with his groceries and though I was tired at this point and in sleep wear, I agreed.

When he arrived, he had about three pounds of Crab, four cannisters of Pillsbury Crescent rolls and one pound of butter.

I had a large pot ready so he could steam his crab and pre-heated the oven for his crescent rolls. He melted one half pound of butter into which he put his de-shelled crab. He also dipped those already buttery crescent rolls into the melted fat.

As he sat at the table eating, he was unable to finish because he had a large bowl of steak chili, proclaiming his approval of its goodness, with every other mouthful, prior to shoveling large spoonfuls into his mouth. He scoffed at the cous-cous since it did not contain any oil or butter.

I had the television on in the kitchen and we watched television as he ate and I drank a cup of hot tea.

Dick is the most prolific channel changer, having to have total control of the remote. I never did enjoy watching television with him due to this unruly habit of overworking the control; bits and snippets of various movies, shows or news was not how I enjoyed the television. On occasion, he would have the opposite effect of his regular viewing habit-he would doggedly watch something he found of interest.

And last night, he had on the Discovery Channel's secrets of the Free Masons, talking his way through this program, complaining every time a commercial was on. This was about 1 am and I was beginning to think it was a creepy show. I am not a fan of being creeped out knowing I was alone at home for the night after Dick would finally leave. He insisted on relaying to me information about various evils. We went from watching the Food Network to creepy Free Mason secrets.

As I was sitting there, trying to not fall asleep, hoping Dick would decide to go home, I see my new blog friend, David, on the television. When I first saw him, I was a bit confused. Having had the initial instinct of recognition, it took me a minute to remember where I had seen that face. Albeit, his hair was short, but it was he. I was so surprised, I called out, I know him! Dick was demanding how I knew someone who was obviously living in England.

No one I know, knows about this blog. I had to fend for an explanation of how I recognized this man, David. My explanation was truthful, having read his wonderful words on his website about London.

Hello, David, so nice to have seen you last night. Good thing Dick was more interested in his cup of hot cocoa laced with Bailey's; and my promise to provide him with homemade marshmallows when I get around to making them, and, permitting him to see how it is done. A good thing.