Three for a dollar

I awoke this morning with artichokes on my mind. Which is weird. Not nearly as weird as it would have been to wake up surrounded by artichokes - a realization that made me feel a little better.

I wasn't dreaming about artichokes, you understand. But at 6:30 as soon as I opened my eyes (and experiencing a bit of an upset stomach) it was almost all I could think about. Mainly just the word and the image of what they look like.
I started thinking about artichokes as a metaphor for time, with each year being a leaf torn off the thistle. This is a frightening image if you think about it (which I did) because eventually whoever's doing the tearing will get to those really thin pedals, rip them out all at once along with the fur, causing everything to age decades in an instant, then bite into the heart which would what? End all time?

So I shook that metaphor and started to concentrate on the last time I had an artichoke. Narges' grandma gave me three this past June or so, and I cooked them up for myself, Andy and Rew. I made a Parmesan garlic butter for dipping (cause I didn't have mayonnaise) which was good. While I ate it I tried to remember the last time I had had an artichoke. At the time I may have been able to remember, I don't know.

Again, I should point out, I didn't wake up wanting an artichoke, or with an artichoke taste in my mouth. Their existence just occurred to me, is all.

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