10.5.08 it was his last meal

Or hers. I'm not sure. I didn't get close enough to the little mouse in our kitchen who we discovered this morning had, well, um, taken the bait.

Okay, that's morbid and horrible.

In other news. The vegetables and fruit to pass my lips today have all been of a distinctly distorted version. Raspberry jam, and apricot jam with an actual apricot in the spoonful. On a brioche, of course. I would like to point out that wheat was once a green, growing thing - does that count?

Let's see...ice cream in Battersea park from the Mr. Whippy van so not even any cream in that let alone green stuff.

Green stuff? Wait! There was pesto on my pasta tonight. Basil must most certainly count.

And the cheese, a fantastic hard, round ball of a thing from Whole Foods, was a orange as a carrot (but not because of some weird food dye like some countries like to put in their cheddars).

A cappuccino in St. Pancras station this morning with a friend we were dropping off at the train. I won't go back for another at the restaurant we tried, but there are half a dozen more in the new and improved gateway to Paris. Which makes me think that since I'm at the station already, next time I might just go to the source and eat my crispy, buttery, chocolately wonder in the shadow of the Eiffel tower. It will be more expensive, of course.

Oh man, look at the labels. Not the healthiest day I've posted, but the sun was shining and the Buddha in the Peace Pagoda was smiling, as were we when we visited the dogs at the Battersea Home for Dogs and Cats. In other words, there was a lot of walking involved today. We probably nearly maybe broke even...