Oh, I haven’t done it recently, like in the past week or two. Just thought I’d get your attention. My beloved Kevin Smith has lost weight of late. Not the one who is my Facebook friend. Well. He may have. It hasn’t come up. I mean the writer/director/asked to get off the airplane Kevin Smith. I love him. He’s a funny, funny man. My friend Brien is losing weight. It’s like when you’re not pregnant but you want to be and it seems everyone else is? You with me? OK. Perhaps not. I’m not losing weight because it has been an act of God. Well, I had to blame somebody. I’ve gotten so tired of saying it’s all my fault. It’s because of snow. Snow triggers excess cooking. Snow is an act of God. It’s just one of those things. Now you may be the first to point out that it’s my hand putting that divine banana bread in my mouth. And mine is divine as it is loaded with chocolate chips. Served warm. With buttah. And half a slice, well, that’s no big deal. Until I’m still in the house eating the other half an hour later (it’s a gastric bypass timing thing). My cooking is a gift, a pleasure, and a curse. I could blame Oprah, but she’s busy enjoying her new-to-her sister. Don’t want to harsh her mellow. Now is the time to not feast mightily. Because I know the pain of those glorious spring days when you go in to your closet and think why? why? why didn’t I stop? April is not a season for regrets. In the meantime, I’d best suck it up with sugar-free hot chocolate and pretend I’m chewing. Let the vicious cycle begin. Again.