Spaghetti tonight, enough for six people though there are three. Why can I no longer measure spaghetti into portions anywhere close anymore? I wonder, remembering my single days, my younger days, when the last strand was the last I could put down. Perfect. No waste, no hunger.
Ah, it dawns on me. Younger, voracious, I ate whatever amount I made. Truthfully, in a salad bowl–no, not the individuals, the big mother serving bowl–smothered in white clam sauce with escargot and black olives and parmesan cheese.
I eat less now, but weigh 5 lbs. more. I never vary anymore from 100 lbs.