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Hold the onions please

As the body ages, I notice things that creak and things that no longer work the way they used to. One of those things is my stomach. Its tolerance for food has grown picky and I am no longer able to enjoy some of the foods I once loved. I am grateful that my tolerance for milk products has remained intact after many years of spotty indecisiveness on my digestional behalf.

Today I was reminiscing with my co-workers about our love of onions-- RAW onions. We both gnoshed them regularly in our youth, the rawer and stinkier the better. My favorite dish was a tuna sandwich. Wheat bread; tuna with mayo, relish and tons of diced RAW onions; lots of black pepper; and alfalfa sprouts. Yum. Pair that with Fritos and you've got a winner. Unfortunately the days of raw onions are over. Bye-bye poke, bye-bye macaroni and potato salad a la Grandpa, bye-bye burgers, bye-bye to all other things I used to enjoy with raw onions. Now I can only eat well cooked onions, which is not as fun.

My mood: tired and certainly catching some sort of cold

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