Know what it is?
It’s blood, sweat, and tears.
It’s hours and hours of hard work.
It’s my aching back and my messy kitchen.
If you prefer my husband’s terms . . . it’s concrete.
I prefer thinking of them as little round bricks instead.
Don’t they look good?
The cats will like them. In fact, that bucket is sitting out in the gravel as we speak . . . er, write.
If you want the whole truth, and nothing but the truth –
they’re a kitchen failure.
A gluten-free flunkie.
A trim healthy mama dropout.
Oh well, at least I will sleep well tonight knowing my cats’ sugar levels did not spike, and they will not be suffering effects from eating gluten.
On the other hand, we – the “getting healthy Grabers” – had cold cereal and popcorn.
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