...Or, "Marie can be really expensive dinner date," says her sweet husband.
I'll spare you the unpleasant details, but will say that I spent the majority of the day with a large piece of pork lodged in my esophagus.
Last night my dear husband took me out for what was to be a scrumptious dinner for two at a Blowing Rock restaurant. I took one bite of my grilled pork tenderloin (I should have stuck with my first choice of grouper) and the euphoria of being on a date with my husband came to an end. It felt horrible people. And it was embarrassing. Really.
I spent the day in the hospital waiting to have a get-it-out-ectomy. For the record, it killed me to be in there, to be privy to all kind of interesting sights, and not have my camera with me.
But it is over. I am all better. And now you know why there is no photo on my blog today.