Hello toaster, my old friend

  Alas poor toaster, I knew him well. Now he seems destined to sit alone, abandoned in the dark for interminable periods, waiting, pining for the time when we may be reunited and once again rejoice in the heady aromas of freshly singed bread. Unfortunately though, I don't speak toaster so there's no way I can explain and comfort him.

  The sense of rejection must add to his burden as during the extended periods of solitary confinement, would not any rational being eventually come to the conclusion that they must have somehow been responsible for their isolation and punishment? If only I could explain.

Does anyone speak toaster?

  It has to be said that his pain is shared to some degree. He is not the only one who is suffering. I miss him terribly and long for a return to times past when I'd greet him with a spring in my step and a loaf of sourdough in my hand. We might meet over breakfast with a couple of eggs, bacon and some avocado or have a little get together in the afternoon with a cup of tea and a pot of jam. Without fail, at every occasion, we would be joined by our friend, butter. (Sigh...)

  There is however, a glimmer of hope. As interesting (and possibly healthy) as life is with loads of fat and a minimum of carbs, there are many friends who's company I miss. Life is just that little bit emptier without them. So what's to be done?

  The plan at the moment is to spend three weeks on the low carb, high fat mission then have a weekend off to wreak as much havoc as possible before going back to boring town for another three weeks. My diary has notes to this affect and my 'party' weekends coincide with some exciting events including a supper club in July on Friday 13th. This date will be the end of the current experiment then I'll have a look at the results and... Well, who knows?

Kirk out

RevoltingFood.com