And those eggs were probably uniform because they were powdered...

I bought hot dogs.

Sorry. I've tried to start this post at least six or seven more writerly, interesting ways, but that's what it all boils down to (ha ha, boils, which is what you do to hot dogs? No? I'll keep working on it...). I was at Trader Joe's on Friday, picking up far healthier groceries, and I decided I had a craving for hot dogs. Trader Joe's has an uncured beef hot dog with cheddar, which sounded perfect. The only problem is that once I've had a hot dog, I've got an open pack of hot dogs that are just biding their time until I throw them out because I'm not sure how long they can last when they're uncured and also, is it normal for them to get a slimey outer coat? Probably not?

So I pondered, as one does with problematic hot dogs, and I figured out a second use for the wieners.

I vaguely remember going to YMCA day camp one summer in my youth, and naturally, my one memory related to it revolves around food. I remember eating uniformly perfect lumpy scrambled eggs with hot dogs cut up in them. Like any chubby child--I imagine--I longed to go back into the breakfast line in a series of disguises to get seconds, thirds, fourths, and fifths. When I described the dish to my mom when she picked me up that afternoon, I believe she said, "That sounds disgusting."

Inspired by nostalgia, but also feeling pressured by my participation in a Lose It challenge to eat more veggies in March, I moved ahead with a modified version of the dish I remembered by sauteing a cup of Market Pantry Italian Vegetable Blend (broccoli, cauliflower, zucchini, green beans, maybe?).

I don't know that Mom was 100% with her assessment, but like Hostess Snoballs, I think eggs and hot dogs lose their appeal once you've passed age 12. I don't think I can blame it on the vegetables, though on second thought, I don't know that Italian Vegetable Blend with large hunks of cauliflower floret were the best choice.

This morning, like a reasonable grown-up, I had oatmeal with berry mix.

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On Monday, I attended my first BodyFit class. I've been looking for a way to challenge myself and increase my strength training, and the class description promised it was good for beginners. It was, I guess, if you don't mind spending the next two days feeling like you've been pummeled in your arms and legs. My first experience with an exercise ball, and at one point, I wanted to kick it across the gym in a fit of pique. STOP TELLING ME TO KEEP MY BOOTY OFF THE GROUND! I HAVE TOO MUCH BOOTY! IT HAS NOWHERE TO GO AND ALSO MY HAMSTRINGS ARE ON FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE!

I'm going back Sunday morning. I hope by then my triceps have recovered--when people speak of "shredding" their muscles in a workout, I think my mental picture of running my tender, noodly muscles over a box grater is apt--and I've somehow managed to forget how horrible the verb "pulse" can be.

(But really, it was great--I was exhausted by the end, and my legs were jelly, but it was exhilarating to be challenged and, despite some whimpering, keep up with the class.)

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Day 3 of Otter the Kitten and just as I predicted, Trumper gave him a sample bath last night. This morning, they were running back and forth through the apartment like cuckoo birds. E. Edward joined in every now and then.

Plum retreated to the space between the couch and the slipcover again. Her response when I pet her and said goodbye was probably the cat version of an expletive. So this is probably the first and last kitten I will be fostering.