DO NOT THINK OF OYSTERS!

After an exciting night I conclude that my goutish issue has returned; that's the only possible explanation for my aching foot. It doesn't help that being on my feet for most of the past few days, combined with arthritis and circulatory issues leads inevitably to a whole smorgasbord of different symptoms down there, at the terminus of the body. Damned right foot. And another conclusion is that perhaps I should not have had so much duck liver pâté.

All of this woke me up four or five times during the darkness and created some mighty interesting (peculiar) dream images.

Unhelpfully sped along by high blood pressure medications.

Also, yoghurt and ginger combat inflammation.

I will not share this with my doctor.

There is no reason why anyone in the medical profession needs to know my goofy ideas about food. The last time I shared them I left a dietician/nutritionist green and nearly in tears. It being just before her lunchtime, and my loving descriptions of roast duck (燒鴨 'siu ngaap') and melted cheese covered porkchops on a bed of noodles with oodles of sauce (焗豬扒意粉 'guk chyu baa yi fan') being so near to her growling stomach. And I was just getting started, because I usually eat lunch several hours later, after the crowd has left whichever restaurant and I can enjoy my baked Portuguese chicken rice (焗葡國雞飯 'guk pou gwok gai faan') in peace. With a goodly sploodge of hot sauce, of course.

Hot sauce is a vegetable. That's important.

I did not have any yesterday.

One dream involved a singing red head and three girlie-poo midgets. Though the vivacious aire was sung entirely in Japanese, their accents were distinctly Southern.

This was probably influenced by two things: 1) Ginger posted a video of karaoke, and 2) Mary showed a photo of her dinner last night: Slow roasted ribs with seasoned beans, jalapeño cheddar butter cornbread, and cinnamon bourbon pecan bread pudding.
Mary lives in The South, hence the overload of Dixie in her meal.
It looked yummy and delicious.


Another dream involved an army of sprightly girl scouts marching through the Western Pailou (西牌樓) in the outskirts of the city; someone left an entire package of Samoas at work; there are now considerably less of them. I seriously doubt that it was one of the old farts in the backroom, they would probably have eaten the kids and not bought any cookies.
Probably my coworker.


I haven't had gout in a while. That's a benefit of mostly maintaining a good diet; avoiding beer and shellfish, especially oysters, and other rich foods. And I rarely indulge in thick tidal waves or avalanches of gooey melted cheese on anything.

Fatty meats, spicy curries, scrumptious dumplings, and cream sauces are still on the menu.
There are, as I mentioned, some things medical people don't need to know.
They're horrified enough already, and easily triggered.
And they already know about tobacco.


Lunch might be roast duck.
But I am still deciding.
Not hungry yet.



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