Reflections on the puddle of life

This is not so much a blog about food, but a blog about how great it is when you have someone who just really understands you. It's a good thing, honest. Read on.

I've been sick recently I've been laid up with bronchitis for the past week, ranging from steaming hot to shivering cold, sleepless and sleepy, aching, coughing coughing coughing coughing, aching some more, generally feeling miserable and sorry for myself. Being really sick - really sick, not the kind of sick where you feel a bit naff and think it's worse that it is - always messes with my senses and it always takes me a little while to recover from that afterwards. Maybe another week or so. Maybe longer. It always makes me think very hard about perception, about how we're perceptual creatures, but perhaps I'll blog about that separately when I've got a bit more time.

One of the nicer side effects of bronchitis is a complete loss of appetite. I just don't want food. Nothing tastes right and nothing is appealing. This was not a problem when I was wafting around at home, sleeping and watching my jeans expand around my waist, but now that I'm fit to be back at work it does present rather more of a problem. At some point I need to build some calorific intake into my day. Hmm. Problem. Because it's easy to eat when you want to eat, but when you don't it's a real effort.

So it got me to thinking, what do I want? After some considered effort I narrowed it down to this: wet food. Yes, definitely: wet food = good, dry food = bad. Simples. Armed with this straightforward matrix I put myself together a lunch comprising tomato soup and grapes, both obviously wet foods, and BINGO! I have calorific input. No fainting today.

This works nicely for today, but tomorrow I'm going to Edinburgh and I'll be on the train at lunchtime. I can't have train food as, regardless of what it is train food is definitely dry food, and taking the flask will add unnecessary bulk to my baggage, so soup is out too. Ordinarily I'd pack myself a peanut butter sandwich, but peanut butter sandwiches rest on the uncertain border between dry food and wet food, depending on the freshness of the bread, and in my present state it's a risk I'm not willing to take. So I decided to discuss this with my husband to see what his thoughts were. This is kind of how the conversation went:

Me: I need to think of something to take to eat on the train tomorrow, but it needs to be wet food.

Hubby: Wet food?

Me: Yes, wet food.

Hubby: Like soup?

Me: Yes, but not soup because I can't take the flask.

Hubby: Hmm. (Thinks about it for a little while)

Me: (being helpful): Like an egg salad sandwich, that's wet food.

Hubby: Yes, egg salad is definitely wet food.

Me (hopeful): But a cheese sandwich is not wet food.

Hubby: No. Sweet and sour chicken (which we were having for dinner) is wet food.

Me: Yes it is. And it's very nice.

Hubby: But bacon and mushroom tagliatelli is not wet food, even though it is saucy.

Me (impressed): Yes you're right, it's not. Like strawberries are wet food, but apples aren't.

Hubby: Now I'd have said apples were wet food.

Me: Hmm. (Thinks about it). Maybe some apples would be wet and others not. I think, because I like the sharp green apples that's why I don't think they're wet food. But red apples are wet food.

Hubby: Yes, I'd say apples are wet food.

Me: Sushi isn't wet food.

Hubby: Unless you dip it in soy, then it becomes wet food.

Me: I think I'll have an egg salad sandwich on the train.

Hubby: With beetroot. That'll make it extra wet.

Me: Extra wet. Yes.

And I thought, isn't it great? Isn't my hubby great? Because no matter what random, bizarre comment I come out with he intrinsically understands what I'm getting at. Which is nice. It's nice to have someone who understands my weirdness. It makes for a happy day.