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Tuesday, June 25, 2013


It flew out of the bowl! Really, it did.
Picture not altered to get this color yolk.
Look at the orange yolk of the other egg
at the top of the picture in the bowl. 
Grass or greens=orange yolks=omega-3

My blood sugar was dropping. I was giddy and nauseous. Only real food works for me. I had to have food and now. I did not want more cheese. I had had milk. So, I decided to fix a meal for 2 p.m. that would last longer than an hour: two slices bacon, two eggs scrambled with smidgen of salt, orange juice, and milk.  NO toast.
I always beat my eggs with a mixer. I have two hand mixers in a drawer along with the four beaters to attach. I needed to wash dishes, so one set of beaters was in the sink in a bowl of water. It is the best mixer. The other mixer was quickly deployed because I was so queasy and weak. I cannot find a bowl for beating eggs that is within reach. I would not step on a stool to get a bowl waaaay up in the top cabinet. I could have fallen in this condition. So, I grabbed the short Corelle bowl, thinking I would not turn on the hand mixer full speed. However, there is only one beater of any kind still in the dishwasher or anywhere. Do you think one beater will be okay in the mixer?
My feeble brain thinks it better be okay. So, I put two eggs in the bowl, admiring their orange color. With the mixer turned on low, the beater started swirling the eggs round and round the bowl but the yolks remained unbroken. Faster and faster they flew as I chased them faster and faster with the one beater until one yolk flew out! Who would have guessed that would happen?
There the beautiful egg yolk lay on a dishcloth I had just put there. Thankfully, I had not used this for one single thing. I had just gotten this clean one out, a new one fresh from the dryer. By the time I got back with my camera, the lonely, displaced yolk was oozing liquid gold.
The egg yolk was so sturdy that once I dumped it back into the bowl, I still  could not puncture it as it raced around the bowl ahead of the one beater.  Since I know how that ends, I quit chasing the yolk with the beater. Okay, so I am easily entertained! Finally, I started moving the beater  around the bowl in the opposite direction the beater was turning. That did the trick! It made me feel silly to be chasing that yolk! This scene could clearly be amusing in a comedy.

After scorching one  tiny place on one of the pieces of the bacon, my lunch was ready. I am still puzzled where the other beater could be. But, I am recovering! I waited too long to eat after I knew I was crashing.

Update: Now, two hours later, I found bowls and beaters. I had started to empty the dishwasher, stacked some nesting bowls and took out some of the items in the utensil holder in the dishwasher, and placed them into the bowls. I have to hold onto the counter so I can bend, therefore, not all the dishes are removed at once. In my fog this afternoon, I missed a huge mixing bowl at my elbow, full of utensils and the other beater I needed.

Your turn
Does hypoglycemia leave you in a stupid fog? The fog is not stupid. I am a fog of stupid. I am glad I did not step up on the stool. Has an egg ever leapt from your little short mixing bowl? No?
Mine neither. Do you hate cleaning up broken eggs as much as I do? I would have invited a hen in to dine on it.


  1. That does not sound like a feeling I would enjoy at all. Imagine you being able to cook any proper meal at all while feeling that fog!

    An orange yolk is beautiful to behold. :-) Your girls are getting lots of healthy lutein in their diet. Wonderful!

  2. Sue,
    It's miserable.

    Yes, love those yolks. I think that may be the prettiest picture I have ever taken just because of what it represents, not for anything else.

  3. LOL! my eggs often land in places they shouldn't. Dogs are happy :-)

  4. Patti,
    My hens would be more than happy to come in and eat from the kitchen floor. When I drop one outdoors, they are superfast getting to them to eat. I am sure your dogs are fast also.

  5. Yes, all of my life I have had episodes of what is called reactive hypoglycemia. I am not diabetic, but whenever my bloodsugar is checked it's about 56. I have had my share of little household and occupational oopses through the years when I have eaten later than was anticipated. Yes, I would describe hypoglycemia as a fog accompanied by butterfingers !

  6. Jane,
    No doctor has ever told me what it was, just tested me for diabetes. Then, I figured it out myself and told a doctor who just ignored what I said. Reactive hypoglycemia is a curse. The blood/brain barrier being broken is what scares me.

    Butterfingers is certainly right. And, insisting on chasing that egg certainly showed me I really had poor judgment. I mean, what I was doing was clearly not working, but I tried harder. Who chases an egg yolk?

    Mine started about the time of puberty. And, it got worse with menopause.

    I am so glad you understand. Oh, five hours after eating mine was 50.


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