Choices

Choices parade before me in an array of color.
It is both the beginning and the end of  something; of many somethings.  Traditions. Habits.  Choices.
Last week the yellow, pink and purples of sugar covered Peeps mixed with the bold rainbow of assorted jelly beans drew me over and over to the overflowing Longaberger Easter basket sitting on the table.

Each morning for the last several weeks I have poured fifteen extra pounds  into my biggest jeans. Today as I try once again to button them up, sucking with all my might to pull in the belly that so loves the sweet sugary white frosting cross on top of deliciously buttered Lenten treats, I am relieved that Easter has passed and spring has sprung. I am delighted that, knowing where I was headed, I made a promise to myself that today I am determined to keep.  Ambivalent, but determined.

Good food and I, great, abundant, healthy, organic, locally grown or raised food and I, have had a longstanding love affair - but I am promisuous.  I dance with the devils of saturated fats and empty calories and love every dip and swirl.  I am not even discreet about it and now I am being called to task.   My inner being cringes that the indiscretions are scoring the most points.  Oh, and my pants won't zip. 

I walk the aisles of Adams Fair Acre Farms and new choices parade before me in an array of color
It is both the end and the beginning of something.