Friday, January 18, 2008

Chocolate On My Mind

Hey Miss Faye,

Glad you gave the chirpers a listen. Hope you listened to the slowed-down version 'cause it's amazing how much their slowed-down version sounds like humans making beautiful music. Makes me wonder how much better we might all sound if we slowed down just a smidgeon, you know what I mean? Hope all that cricket music didn't make you have to bring out the calamine lotion last night.

So you don't like to feed one breathing thing to another, eh? Sure do wish more people felt the way you do - especially when it comes to breathing human beings. Non-breathing humans, too, for that matter, tho' I've found that as a rule, folks are much kinder to dead folks. It's also interesting the transformation that takes place when somebody dies. But we'll save that for another day's posting.

I'm with you on the boiled okra. Blechdkdt. It may taste fine, but the texture is what keeps me from partaking. And I don't really see how anybody could tell how it tastes cause it's so slippery it likely slides right on down without waking up the taste buds.

I am what's known as a picky eater, and now I'm old enough my mama can't make me eat anything regardless of the condition of those poor hungry children in China. And I don't have to hide things under the sofa either, thank goodness, cause now I am the one that has to sweep out from under the sofa.

As for dunking things in chocolate, yum yum. I'll coat most anything with chocolate and call it good. Reminds me of the Christmas I bought a jar of chocolate and a coupla paint brushes for my father-in-law and his new bride. (She was That Kind of Woman, dontchaknow.) (And he sure didn't seem to mind. Not one bit.) Well, I ordered it out of a catalog, and as usual, I did my shopping early and stuck the presents in the closet as they came in. Then, when it came time to wrap presents, I couldn't find that chocolate anywhere.

I did eventually find it, though.

When my 15-year old teenage nephew boy opened his present (ordered from the same catalog), out rolled that chocolate followed shortly by the his 'n hers paintbrushes.

Nephew boy was mightily disappointed to find that it wasn't his, I tell you what.

Think I'll go see if I can find that Little Debbie chocolate thing I hid for just such a day as this.

Miss Etta, you doin' okay?

Till next time, Miz Vul

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