The good news is that my dad will not have the surgery next week. The doctor said that as soon as he promises to lift nothing heavier than a glass half filled, he can take his vacation first, and then have the operation end of August, begining of September. This is super great because my dad will get to go to the summer house this Sunday, and spend 3 weeks there swimming and resting, which is something he really needs.

And for me is a big relief too because I have a big theatre production on the same day he was having his operation.

Last night it was a quiet night at home. I made Angelos' favourite summer pasta and I shared it with him guiltlessly. Its fresh and yummy and here is how you can make it: Boil wholegrain pasta of your choise al dente. Last night I tried the organic wholewheat garlic pasta and it had a nice garlicy after taste. Take your trustworthy blender and put in it a bunch of fresh basil, a bunch of fresh mint and a bit of fresh oregano, 4-5 ripe tomatoes, a Tsp of olive oil and a pinch of salt and pepper. Blend them all till they form a thick juice. As soon as the pasta is ready rinse it under running water, put it in a big bowl, and pour the tom/herbs juice on top. Stir well till it goes everywhere and sprinkle a little parmezan on top, or any other cheese you like. Easy peasy, healthy and yummy!

I am not sure my point came across right in yesterday's post. I do not want to be the harlequin heroine in terms of looks and moves. What I want is to loose weight and not feel I am in a diet. I know it makes no sense, but sometimes I feel like there are two of me. The one who drools over a ripe peach and the one who devours a pint of valhrona sorbet in one sitting.

What I really want is to take the peach girl on holidays. I have dreamed of leaving for holidays on the low eighties. I am still 88 kilos. Angelos thinks it is amazing that I am able to so easily maintain this weight with the way I eat. And the valhrona girl is really stunned and happy and very grateful to her body for not gaining the weight back, but here comes the peach girl who gets angry and thinks that if she had just eaten a few more peaches and a lot less valhrona she would have been where she wanted.

This always happens to me when I give myself deadlines. I want to weigh that much by that date. It all goes down the drain at some point. Besides this gorgeous and shinny 3 weeks before the trip to Amsterdam.

Another thing I got aware off lately is that food will always be my comfort. But never in the way it used to be. I really love and appreciate myself enough now to never go back to these self destructive techniques. Yet, when I am stressed or sad or tired, I want to eat something nice. But I also am aware of the reason.

Food is love. Our first perception of love is really breastfeeding. There is really love in every feeding. A mother will look for the freshest egg to boil for her baby's first egg. And will boil it carefully so that the yolk is soft and the white is not runny. And will peel the shell and all this time she will be glowing inside because her baby is growing and having their first egg! And this love goes to the baby. And the baby feels it.

And then, this baby grows up and one Sunday wakes up secretly earlier than usual and tries to prepare breakfast for their parents. Messy, undercooked, burnt breakfast that the proud parents manage to swallow because in this not-so-yummy-looking plate the basic and foremost important ingredient is love indeed.

I can go through hundrends of meals, from Christmas to romantic dinners for two and give examples how food is really love. I can dare and say that fast-food and processed food is also alienation among families. Perhaps it is because I am Greek. Food is such an important thing in my culture. You know that when we cook we almost always speak to the ingredients. We speak sweetly to the dough so it raises. We do a weird whisttle to the egg-lemon sauce before we put it in the pot so that it does not turn sour.

The mistake is to substitude love with food. This has been my mistake during these couple of years I gained my 60 kilos. Food is not the enemy really. Food can be an ally too.

All I need to do is persuade my ally to come with me on holidays!