Cheryl had asked in a comment for me to write about one of my and mom’s meals. Helen, my father’s cook and maid, cooked a delicious chicken pot pie yesterday afternoon. Mom called me and had asked me to come eat supper with her. Helen’s chicken pie was filled with chunks of chicken breast; dumplings made the traditional southern way with lard, potatoes, carrots, celery, and sliced boiled eggs. This was cooked in a rich, creamy white, peppery sauce and topped with a flaky pastry crust. She also prepared her signature cornbread muffins which are slightly sweet and not traditional southern style. Southern style cornbread where I live is usually tangy, crunchy, and made with buttermilk, hot oil, and white corn meal. For the dessert, Helen had prepared pear salad which consisted of a pear half on a bed of lettuce with a dollop of mayonnaise sprinkled with sharp cheddar cheese and topped with a sweet candied cherry. It was delicious and I went back to the stove for a second helping much to Helen’s enjoyment.
There was a different cashier yesterday from the usual lady with the glass eye. I recognized him as the son of one of the men who goes to Alcoholics Anonymous with me. I was very nervous and wary that he would be unaware of my relationship and tab with the restaurant and that there would be problems.
“You eat up baby,” She told me. “I thought of you while I was cooking it.”
My father soon arrived home from work to eat with us. I and mom had almost finished.
“What in the hell is Maggie barking at?” He asked me.
“She has barked all day like a mad dog,” I replied. “I don’t know what has gotten into her.”
“It must be a possum or a deer.”
I walked home as the sun was setting as I looked for more photo opportunities. I am trying to gain a photographer’s eye for things.
I still have a tab at Roger’s Barbeque and ate lunch there yesterday as well. I am going to gain a hundred pounds the way I have been eating lately. I ordered two chunked pork barbeque sandwiches and a bag of Lay’s potato chips. As usual, the restaurant was busy which makes me nervous and paranoid, but my hunger and the want of a free meal overcomes my fears.
There was a different cashier yesterday from the usual lady with the glass eye. I recognized him as the son of one of the men who goes to Alcoholics Anonymous with me. I was very nervous and wary that he would be unaware of my relationship and tab with the restaurant and that there would be problems. Thankfully, management had filled him in and my check out process and tip went smoothly.
Well, this radio program will go on until the wee hours of the morning and my eyelids have grown so heavy I don’t think I can stay up any longer. I will try to write again in the morning. Good night.