So this past weekend I ventured into the arctic territory north of here, known as France to the geographically challenged.  This was a big weekend.  It was bigger than meeting Poppy’s Poppa.  I was meeting Poppy‘s BFF Break Boy… and of course the possibility of him breaking my kneecaps was quite real indeed (in fact there is a rock tied to a rope that is tied to a swing set for what appears to be just this very purpose… but we shan’t dwell on that).

Luckily… I think he liked me.  Besides making garlic bread, garlic flavored chocolate cake, and garlic french toast… he also made some killer concoction that set me back a bit in the armchair.  Still… I awoke with all my limbs attached and a Poppy beside me.  So I guess I must be at least okay to some degree.

To be honest though… I definitely felt a bit out of my element.  I’m not a cooker.  I’m more of a baker.  But the garlic… it entranced me.  I’ve never had to break a garlic clove before or press it out… it has always been done for me.  Yet, I found myself drawn to the power of the garlic.  There’s something almost mystical about it… as it dominated not only my sense of smell and taste but also my mind with the complexity of its natural design.  I know… it sounds crazy… but I suddenly have this serious urge to go chop up and press some garlic.  Some people are comforted by t-shirts… some people by luggage tags… but me?  Well… I think I want some garlic to nestle next to.

I think anyone who at anytime thought I was vampiric… I think its safe to say I’m not.

For those of you who may be interested in what Public Relations people at huge companies think about blogs… be sure to check back tomorrow… because I got the opportunity to speak to a PR Director from a major company on the very subject… and what he said may surprise you as much as it did me.