One of the first things a young boy wants to learn to do--once he learns he is "a man"--is to learn to spit. Have you ever seen a youngster trying to spit? There is no way I could describe it, spit dribbling off the chin, and all. But soon, too soon. they have mastered the skill and, it seems, it never departs.
As evidenced by the retired gentleman I watched today. He shuffled to the mail box. It took a while. Just before he got there--I was now thinking of him as a dear old soul--he spit. So much for the dear old soul, bit. Wow, could that old feller spit.
We drove to Salt Lake today and on the freeway we passed a plumbing van. I was bored and so read all the things written on the back. Just as it got interesting and I was reaching for my camera he took an exit. Here's what it said: "Courteous, Clean, No surprises. We wear belts. Cash back if you see a crack."
This is on my cookbook blog tonight. It was very tasty. Everyone at dinner pronounced it good. And if you are into food storage, most of the ingredients are things you can have in your pantry/basement/bomb shelter or under the bed. Where is your food storage kept?
PS I couldn't do without tweezers. I explained in the Mexican Casserole post. It is one of the four things I hate about growing old:
1. A turkey gobbler neck
2. Eye Boogers (Do you remember that comic strip in Bloom County where they called Eye Boogers "the great social equalizer?" One of the characters--was it Opus?--said, "even the Pope has them."
3. Dirty eye glasses
4. And chin hairs.
But I should have added #5. Bat wings. Every woman over the age of forty knows what I mean. If you know a remedy please let me know. I could probably sail a good distance.