I’m was thinking just now, and intermittently through Sunday, about the magic of peanut butter sandwiches. On Saturday I cared for a kind-souled quadriplegic man. After I remarked on the large scar on his coccyx, he told me that for five years he suffered a bedsore there. He, his wife, doctors and nurses tried everything to make it heal. When someone suggested he eat peanut butter sandwiches daily, he did, and within two weeks the sore magically healed. I think about it and want to say of course it was the extra protein that did the trick, but my whimsical side believes it was the trick that did the trick.
Speaking of tricks, I “sandbagged” the sport category at the Portland Mountain Bike Short Track Series last night, thinking I would be duelling it out with Susan for first place. She switched last minute to the expert category, leaving me to savor the tastes of pineapple chapstick, blood, and victory! (Hey – and peanut butter sandwiches at the finish line!) Chapstick may have done the trick, but next time I’m bringing mouth lubricant. It gets dry in there! Smack! Smack!