eating | The Direction of Intention

In The Form Of Food [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on April 13, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

“There is no sincerer love than the love of food.” ~ George Bernard Shaw

As you probably know by now we close-out our day by watching hiking videos, usually of people attempting long distance thru-hikes like the Pacific Crest Trail or the Appalachian Trail. Much of the time on trail the hikers dream of food. Hamburgers and pizza, burritos and pancakes. Hiker hunger fills their imaginations with Romanesque feasts. They ache to satisfy their deepest-food-yearning.

I used to delight visiting a bakery with Joe. He would press his nose to the glass and moan with delight at the prospect of eating pie. Making a choice was never easy and took considerable time. Patrons would come and go with bags full of goodies before Joe would at last settle on a selection. He reverently carried his wild berry or apple cinnamon pie to a table, his first taste was nothing short of adoration.

We delight in cooking together. I am the sous chef and Kerri the masterful Julia Child. We have favorite recipes which are supplanted by new favorites which help us rediscover the old favorites as if they were brand new. Like the hikers, when we plan our menu for the week be begin to dream of Wednesday’s dinner or “We can’t wait for Saturday!” Sometimes the anticipation is too much and we rearrange our plan to eliminate the delay in our gratification. We are not good at delayed gratification. It’s something we will have to work on if we actually attempt a thru-hike; we imagine a drone service bringing meals-on-demand to us on the trail. Or, perhaps, a chef hikes ahead of us with a mule train of supplies to make all that we yearn to eat.

Late in the night we heard the clang of the useless squirrel guard on the bird feeder. It sounds like someone dropped a metal garbage can lid. We flipped on the back porch light and peered through the blinds. A raccoon was feasting on the bird seed. He expertly worked the mechanism to deliver new seed to the tray. He snacked like an uninvited guest at a wedding buffet. We chuckled at his delight, his nonchalance. The bright light did not deter his dining. His worship was more gluttonous than Joe’s pie-idolatry but no less satisfying. I suspect he knows that we will refill the feeder and do nothing to deter his future food frenzy.

We believe that in these dark days it’s important to affirm in any way possible that there’s enough love to go around, especially if the love comes in the form of food.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE RACCOON

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Eat! [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on December 26, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

Sitting at the dining room table late at night on xmas eve, in a lively post-dinner discussion, I suddenly remembered Ms. Brunell. I hadn’t thought of her in years.

She was in her eighties and lived alone in an apartment nearby. Ms. Brunell loved to cook. I was seventeen years old and would visit from time to time, to help her with odd jobs, cleaning her apartment or simply to sit at the table and chat. And eat. Chatting required food. Lots of food.

Thanksgiving day, after eating an enormous meal with my family, I was slipping into a food coma when the phone rang. It was Ms. Brunell wondering where I was. She’d made a Thanksgiving meal for me. She forgot to invite me.

I was desperate. I knew the meal she prepared would come in many courses. She was Italian, and rich, thick lasagna was most certainly on the menu. She was old-school so each bite would be replenished by another scoop of food. “Eat!” she’d chirp and smile, reloading your plate. Food was her love language.

As I drove to her apartment I pondered my-death-by-overindulgence. I was caught in the-good-boy-trap and wrestled mightily with my dilemma. Do I confess that I’d already eaten and disappoint her? Do I lie and tell her that I was starving and find some way to put down yet one more spoonful of food? Neither option seemed tenable. How do I reconcile my moral code of honesty-at-all-times with my third-child-need-to-please?

Ms. Brunell was excitedly waiting for me at her front door. Her shining face resolved my dilemma. I have little memory of that meal. I ate. And ate. And ate. I must have blacked-out somewhere after the second course. Death-by-over-indulgence seemed the only option. My honesty-code didn’t stand a chance when faced with the-need-to-please.

Listening to the laughter at our late-night table this xmas eve, a discussion of impossible dilemmas, I sat back in my chair awash in gratitude both for Ms. B., for surviving her generosity, and for the Thanksgiving meal that taught me that shining faces are sometimes more important that made-up-moral-codes. Real life is never as simple as it seems in the code reduction.

The best thing to do when faced with a genuine quandary; eat! And eat again.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FOOD