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It's that time of year again, when the air is full of good intentions, which will soon be paving the way to hell. This year, as a change, I decided to set goals for the year rather than "resolutions," which to me have always had a Lenten feeling, like a whole pile of "thou shalt nots." But not this year. This year I have GOALS! I'll let you know how well this works.
The problem is that I can resist anything except temptation. I know this for certain. A pound of good chocolate lasts only a few days. If it's in the house, I must eat it. Summer ice cream cones inevitably draw me. Without consulting my mind, my feet move immediately to any summer ice cream stand. Tempt me with ice cream. Stay me with flagons.
Now, I do have standards. I won't eat soft ice cream, one of whose main ingredients is methyl cellulose, also known as wallpaper paste. (Don't panic; they use only food-grade methyl cellulose for making ice cream.) And I can easily resist anything with the Nestle's brand name. My small, personal boycott of Nestle's doesn't hurt the corporation, but it certainly makes me feel better. And the more Nestle gobbles up small ice cream brands, the better off I am, since that reduces the possibility of my being tempted. But, other than Nestle's and soft ice cream, I'm a ripe peach waiting to be plucked by the next ice cream vendor I pass. But only in the summer.
Are all my temptations food-related? Gossip tempts me. I want to know the hidden secrets. It has taken me years to learn not to tell everything I know to anyone who is around and listening.. Gossip about food is particularly tempting: the industry, who's doing what to whom, where the chefs are and why they left one job for another—this double whammy combines my two weaknesses.
Tempt me. This is hard to write about. I keep waiting for someone to tempt me with a writing topic so delicious that my writing will be like chocolate.
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