Eating Leaves.

One thing that hopefully has changed by the time you exist and are reading this is that your father often accuses me of "only eating leaves." As in, "All you ever eat is leaves!"

Of course, children, this couldn't be further from the truth. I also eat a number of roots and tubers, and occasionally a flower or two (including asparagus and broccoli).

Nevertheless, I admit that when he traveled to visit his brother (your Uncle Charles) last week, I found myself preparing an awful lot of "leafy" dinners.

Like this one, made of leaves on a bed of rice.


And this, composed of leaves and raisins and seeds.


And this one of leftover leaves with other leftover footstuffs.


OH MY GOD, I KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING. This is like in On the Banks of Plum Creek, when the grasshoppers come and eat "every green thing" and the Ingalls family can't make a crop and then Mary gets the scarlet fever and it settles in her eyes and she goes BLIND!


AND I'M THE GRASSHOPPERS!!!!

... I'm so sorry, Mary. And I'm so ashamed.