Hey readers, it’s been a year since I started writing forknifespoon, and I’m curious if anyone is not seeing something they want to see posted, seeing too much of something else, or has any other (constructive) thoughts or opinions to share in order to make my blog better for you. (Other than that you want me to come make food for you in your home, Tom.) Feel free to post comments! If you’re 92.5% happy with the kinds of recipes I’ve been sharing, then let’s just say we’re all good, huh?

BTW, did anybody miss me??? I’ve had a doozy of a month, starting with an ambulance ride to ER when I woke up with back pain so bad I couldn’t move. And that’s not just a figure of speech! I really couldn’t move. I’ve been gradually healing from the disk and nerve issue that is the problem, but I had weeks where I couldn’t stand long enough to cook, or sit long enough to blog. Thus the lack of fresh posts!

And as a result of all the medical junk and crazy prescription pill popping I’ve been doing, my husband and I decided to try the Whole30 cleanse for the next 30 days. I’ll be sharing the recipes I’ve tried—and liked—and our experience as we trudge through the land of lean meats and varieties of veggies. If you’re not familiar with Whole30, it’s a plan to purge your system of all the sugars and processed foods we consume, and see if what we are ingesting might be causing internal inflammation and a host of other medical issues. So bear with me while I take a food foray into some new territory!

Here’s a funny story related to the previously mentioned ER trip, regarding the kind young men who rescued me from my home when I was in agony. Once I was finally mobile again, I called our local fire station to find out when the two guys who had helped me worked. I wanted to bring them some fresh chocolate chip cookies as a thank you. I was just going to drop the cookies with a card and run, but when I got to the station, the receptionist insisted I give the treats to them personally.

I met Jared and Matt (my new BFF’s) in the fire station hall, and sort of stammered my appreciation, and I realized as I was blubbering away that they had zero recognition of me. And why should they? I was standing upright, with hair and make-up done—not curled up in fetal position, crying from pain in my pee-soaked, ratty flannel PJ’s.

So I elaborated on what had happened, including “you had to come get me out of my bed” (a weird thing to say to two handsome young hunks…) until I finally saw the lights go on in their heads. “OH!!! Yes, I remember you. You look SO DIFFERENT!!!” one of them blurted.

Well, I certainly hope so, Jared, I certainly hope so.