The Girl Who Learned To Kneel

I wonder what Simon is doing in Montreal? I imagine he’s drinking and schmoozing. He was very anxious to get his haircut before departure, which says to me he was planning on drinking and schmoozing. Hair is an excellent tool and he knows it. So are shoes, by the way.

Back in Ontario, things are moving at a much slower pace. The Davey women are not eating sugar on our cottage getaway, and sis and I are going crazy. We’re trying to help our mama with some naturopathic adrenal gland stress cure and going completely nuts…but pretending to be fine. Oh yeah, no, I don’t want any chocolate or lemon-poppy seed coookes or REAL FRUIT JELLIES, none of that for me. Fuck! All we have is agave nectar and Ontario plums.

I can’t write anymore. My preggo sugar-free blood is thinning at a rapid rate, and I need to go comfort Elsie. She is also suffering.

p.s. Natalie is now making a ‘sweet paste’ in desperation. Almond butter AND AGAVE NECTAR. God help us.