How about a little clam chowder mixed with carrot cake?
No?
No?
It all started with my son telling me on the day before I was supposed to leave for Thanksgiving in Nashville, that I'd better not come.
Thanks, William! (I don't think I'm as bad as my ex-mother-in-law, but my daughter-in-law might disagree.)
Thanks, William! (I don't think I'm as bad as my ex-mother-in-law, but my daughter-in-law might disagree.)
Then I decided, because of all the covid-fears, to cancel my Christmas trip to Orlando to see my sister which really relieved me of a lot of stress and saved me tons of money because I have to stay in a hotel, rent a car, buy food, etc. (I fly "free" on Southwest!)
A mixture of clam chowder and carrot cake with "lunch (somethings)" thrown in/by Patricia Leslie
My sister lives in a 35-years-old +++ mobile home with a sagging roof and an inside zoo (no charge for admission!). Really, the odors which waft from said zoo are enough to keep a relative outside which is where I stay when I visit.
We celebrate Christmas in her driveway in folding chairs, opening presents and drinking mimosas. When I used to go inside, her gnarling pit bull and Doberman Pinscher constantly circled my chair and were a bit unnerving. (She had to call the police more than once to separate those two. You ever read any Flannery O'Connor?)
So far, my Christmas gifts have included a used pair of Uggs (unwrapped), a drugstore calendar, and (via UPS) a smashed container of clam chowder mixed with the carrot cake in a dented plastic container, the edibles from my sister who also sent a pretty Christmas cocktail napkin and a paper plate in another box.
I'm not a big fan of carrot cake anyway, but digging among the ruins in the box, I was able to salvage some parts which tasted pretty good and were particularly moist.
Isn't clam chowder in a plastic container supposed to be refrigerated?
When I opened the box, the chowder which was not clinging to the sides of the box and had not soaked the carrot cake, splattered my brown winter coat which I wear indoors where, for many reasons, the thermostat is set at 58 (sometimes 55) degrees Fahrenheit.
The explosion and mixture of white on brown were rather Christmasy after all, like snowflakes on a mountain.
My sister also sent a whisk (?)... to stir the chowder and the carrot cake?
She works at the Walmart and to hear her tell it, you'd think she was there 90 hours a week which are actually 12 or 16.
My sister lives in a 35-years-old +++ mobile home with a sagging roof and an inside zoo (no charge for admission!). Really, the odors which waft from said zoo are enough to keep a relative outside which is where I stay when I visit.
We celebrate Christmas in her driveway in folding chairs, opening presents and drinking mimosas. When I used to go inside, her gnarling pit bull and Doberman Pinscher constantly circled my chair and were a bit unnerving. (She had to call the police more than once to separate those two. You ever read any Flannery O'Connor?)
So far, my Christmas gifts have included a used pair of Uggs (unwrapped), a drugstore calendar, and (via UPS) a smashed container of clam chowder mixed with the carrot cake in a dented plastic container, the edibles from my sister who also sent a pretty Christmas cocktail napkin and a paper plate in another box.
I'm not a big fan of carrot cake anyway, but digging among the ruins in the box, I was able to salvage some parts which tasted pretty good and were particularly moist.
Isn't clam chowder in a plastic container supposed to be refrigerated?
When I opened the box, the chowder which was not clinging to the sides of the box and had not soaked the carrot cake, splattered my brown winter coat which I wear indoors where, for many reasons, the thermostat is set at 58 (sometimes 55) degrees Fahrenheit.
The explosion and mixture of white on brown were rather Christmasy after all, like snowflakes on a mountain.
My sister also sent a whisk (?)... to stir the chowder and the carrot cake?
She works at the Walmart and to hear her tell it, you'd think she was there 90 hours a week which are actually 12 or 16.
Yesterday she left me a message that her food stamps had been cut off. At the library she forgot her password to log on for her food stamps so she called the governor's office and someone called her back the next day and set her straight on her food stamps.
The family which sent me the drugstore calendar usually sends nuts or cookies, but the calendar was my gift this year. You know what a drugstore calendar is, right?
Yep, a free calendar you get at the drugstore!
I know, I know, I know! I am a horrible person, especially in this horrible of horrible years and I should be grateful for anything. I a-m g-r-a-t-e-f-u-l. Thank you, friends and relatives for these wonderful gifts!
And let's see what tomorrow brings!!
Update: Tomorrow did not bring grapefruit my daughter and her family usually send. I love that grapefruit. Where, oh where can my grapefruit be?
Instead, they sent two little boxes. Unless the contents are diamonds or some other equally comparable gem, they cannot compare with grapefruit. With the slooowwww post office deliveries this year (thanks, Trump, and your new post office honcho who I hope President-Elect Biden replaces on January 20), I am hoping the grapefruit is delayed, and it is coming, coming, coming, right?
But this Christmas ain't what it's supposed to be.
The family which sent me the drugstore calendar usually sends nuts or cookies, but the calendar was my gift this year. You know what a drugstore calendar is, right?
Yep, a free calendar you get at the drugstore!
I know, I know, I know! I am a horrible person, especially in this horrible of horrible years and I should be grateful for anything. I a-m g-r-a-t-e-f-u-l. Thank you, friends and relatives for these wonderful gifts!
And let's see what tomorrow brings!!
Update: Tomorrow did not bring grapefruit my daughter and her family usually send. I love that grapefruit. Where, oh where can my grapefruit be?
Instead, they sent two little boxes. Unless the contents are diamonds or some other equally comparable gem, they cannot compare with grapefruit. With the slooowwww post office deliveries this year (thanks, Trump, and your new post office honcho who I hope President-Elect Biden replaces on January 20), I am hoping the grapefruit is delayed, and it is coming, coming, coming, right?
But this Christmas ain't what it's supposed to be.
Another update: On January 12, 2021 grapefruit arrived! Thank you, family! This Christmas became what I wanted it to be! Happy New Year!
patricialesli@gmail.com
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