Last week, Amy sent
me this picture of Elsie – and she’s wearing a little dress I made her big
sister Emma, about 12 years ago.
Last Monday, two of
our grandsons had birthdays: Lyle turned
11, and Levi turned 8. We got each of
them a big tin of Double 15 Dominoes.
Tuesday
afternoon, Victoria and I were having a discussion. A good many of our conversations wind up on
the subject of ‘babies’, these days. For
instance, this time we talked about all the things babies put in their
mouths.
Fortunately, babies
usually choke on something and spit it out before they actually swallow
it. But scary things can happen.
I once let a baby
play with a necklace of mine that had great big plastic beads, thinking
(stupidly, in retrospect) it was quite safe, as the cord was thick and strong
----- but the baby suddenly pulled on it, broke the cording, and kerplunk, a
big ol’ bead fell right into the baby’s mouth! She was lying on the floor
at the time.
I flipped that baby
over onto her tummy and swooped her up so fast, I scrambled her brains.
But the bead popped out.
Scared the livin’
daylights out of me.
Victoria told about
a trip to
the grocery store. “Carolyn ate half of
my list while I was loading groceries onto the conveyor belt. I extracted the mush from her mouth.” hee hee
When Teddy was
about that age and just learning to crawl, he would at least inform me on all the things he put in
his mouth. Insert item. Work it around, announce, “Bleah, Mama,
bleah.” 😆
The other babies
weren’t so helpful.
That
evening, Hester wrote to tell us, “Keira finished her first full
bottle this morning.”
The baby was
over 3 ½ pounds.
We had thought we
might go visit them that evening, but shortly after 6:00 p.m. – almost the time
when we would need to go – Larry was still setting beams at a big hog barn and
wouldn’t be home until a quarter ’til ten.
I
got a little more done on the rag-shag rug that day, bringing its measurement
up to 37” x 39”.
I
also posted pictures I took last Thursday when I went with Victoria and Baby Carolyn
to Omaha: Lauritzen Gardens
Just
look at these gorgeous azaleas that filled the woods everywhere we looked.
It was a warm day Wednesday – 87° – and would be even warmer in the next
few days. I worked on the rag-shag rug until time for our evening church
service.
Hannah had a
checkup that afternoon. It was a bit
traumatic, as the doctor uses a scope to look at the sinuses, and suction to clear
them. She has to be on antibiotics and
have another round of prednisone again, as he suspected a bacterial infection. She can’t afford that.
The doctor said it
was one of the most severe cases of sinus disease they’d ever seen.
She can breathe
better again, but those procedures make her quite miserable. Fortunately, they caught the problem before it
got too bad. She’s been so used to not being able to breathe well, she
hadn’t even noticed she was getting stuffy again.
That night we had our graduation ceremony for the high
school seniors.
We love to hear the children sing.
Ten students – five girls and five boys – graduated this year, including
two of our great-nephews, one of our great-nieces, and one of our nieces, along
with Jeremy’s youngest sister and Andrew’s youngest brother.
You can see the entire service here:
http://www.bbccolumbus.com/Fortyfour.htm. At
the end are many pictures. Don’t stop in
the middle!
A quilting friend dyed some fabric the
other day – and forgot to don gloves before she plunged her hands into the
vat.
She’ll be sporting blue hands for the
next few days. I consoled her with my
own story:
I did something similar whilst making
salsa once......... Here, I’ll just put in an excerpt from my journal of July
16, 2012. It sort of jumps into the
middle of dialogue, but I think you’ll figure it out:
Friday (07-13-12), I made salsa. I threw peppers, tomatoes, onions, garlic,
etc., into the pot, and added cayenne and jalapeños and crushed red pepper to
the mix.
Soon there was a humongous pot of way-too-hot
salsa bubbling away on the stove. When I
realized how hot it was, I started looking up remedies on the Internet. I discovered, of all things, that you can add
peaches to it to tame it down. So add
them I did, for, after all, our peach tree is bowed right down to the earth
with its overabundance of peaches.
I let it simmer (the salsa, not the peach
tree)… tasted it (the salsa, not the peach tree)… Mmmm, mmm. Just right. Just right for me, that is. Still much
too hot for the rest of the family. Hmmmm…
there were five jumbo zucchinis on my counter…
I typed ‘zucchini salsa’ into Google – and
came up with all sorts of recipes for zucchini salsa, how ’bout that. In went a gargantuan zucchini. Another hour of simmering.
It had an excellent flavor, though still
rather hot. It was time for supper, so I
popped some Italian meatballs into the oven, and we had them on thick pieces of
homemade wheat bread, toasted and buttered, with the salsa poured over the top.
I thought that should make it bearable
for the wimps who can’t cope with a wee bit o’ spice without turning into fire-breathing
dragons, but poor Larry was sweating before he had taken three bites.
He spread a big spoonful of cottage cheese
over the whole works – and then finished his meal, happy as a chukar in a
garden of chili peppers.
While the Hot Stuff sizzled (the salsa, not
the husband), I peeled and sliced peaches, putting a quart at a time into
Ziploc freezer bags. The tree is still
full of peaches. I think it puts out new
ones to take the place of the ones I pick, the moment I step back inside the
house.
Several more quarts of peaches… and then I
quit for the evening. If those peaches
want me to slice more of them, they’ll just have to quit ripening all at once
like that, the recalcitrant things!
Caleb came home, ate a few bites of the hot
salsa on meatballs on toast, proclaimed it scrumptious, and rushed back out the
door to play volleyball with his friends at Pawnee Park. Brought to mind times when Teddy was a wee tot
in his highchair, and I’d put something in front of him that he didn’t think he
liked, and he’d say, ever so politely, “This is really good.” ((pause))
“And I’m full now.” – sometimes without
taking so much as a solitary bite.
I ate mine, and it was good all right, but
hot enough that I had to blow my nose multiple times as I worked my way through
it.
Saturday morning (07-14-12), I thought I
would attempt to tame that salsa a bit more. It was still too, too hot for just about
anybody but me. Think ‘flamin’, ragin’,
HOT. In bold red letters, HOT. I
added a quart of water, another enormous zucchini, two cups of sugar, and a
couple teaspoons of salt. It was soon
better, temperature-wise, even before the zucchini was completely cooked. I let it simmer for a couple of hours. Next time I make this stuff, I shall remove
some of the seeds from the jalapeños!
I sew like I cook. I keep going ... and going ... and going ...
adding on, adding on, adding on, more stitches, more stitches, more stitches,
until I step back, give it a critical eye, and think, Good grief, I should
have stopped yesterday.
Soooo. . . if you ask me for sewing or
cooking advice, whatever I say to do ----------- do less. Especially when I’m using cayenne or crushed
red pepper.
An online friend asked, “What is your recipe?”
‘Recipe’, did she say?? Recipe???!!! Eh?
“Well, you at least START with a recipe, then
‘tweak’ it, don’t you?” asked my friend.
Uh, no? I just cut up all the peppers (sweet bell,
jalapeños and chili peppers of all colors, and cherry peppers, too) and
tomatoes (including a few green ones) I have, throw them into a gigantic pot
with water, a can of tomato sauce, a bit of white vinegar, some salt, sugar,
and lemon juice, and turn on the burner. Then I begin adding stuff that would ‘theoretically’
tame it all down.
A friend who has a greenhouse gave all this
produce to us. The peppers ripened a few
days before I had a chance to use them. Several had turned yellow, and some had turned
red. Hotter by the day! Good thing they were ‘only’ jalapeños and
chilies.
I’ve used the even hotter serranos and habaneros
in salsa before, and discovered that even one
of each ----- is too much. Furthermore,
I wasn’t smart enough to wear gloves, and my hands burnt terribly, and it was
sheer misery to do such things as wash my hair every day for a week. Once, hours after I had gotten the peppers on
my hands, and after washing thoroughly several times, I forgot and touched my
eyes.
WooooooeeeEEEEeeeee, did that ever burn.
Usually when I make salsa, if I don’t know
how hot a pepper is, I taste a teensy weensy bit of it in order to better
decide how much to put into the mix. Well,
I once had a habanera pepper – and didn’t know it. I cut a tiny sliver… put it in my mouth… didn’t
taste it right away (either the taste buds it touched were not those that
detect heat, or they were momentarily stunned by Heat Trauma)… so I cut a
smallish chunk, popped it into my mouth – and crunched.
Ooooooweeeee
oOOOOOOOooooooweeeeEEEEEEEEEEeeee.
I proceeded to run madly ‘to and fro upon the
earth’, grabbing bread, milk, water, juice, ice cubes, light bulbs, anything!
– and cramming it into my mouth.
At the time, I was bewailing my woes to my
sister-in-law, and she asked, “Why didn’t you just throw it all into your
blender for a moment or two?”
Uh, ? Why,
indeed.
“Because you didn’t tell me to!!!” I exclaimed.
++++++++++++++++++++++
If I ever make salsa again, somebody
please remind me to wear gloves.
A friend who lives in
Oklahoma, upon seeing these pictures, wrote, “I will stop it when it gets to
the Oklahoma border!”
haha
Things I’m making do seem to have a penchant for growing/escalating/complexicating
(Caleb’s word, back when he was a young teenager), don’t they?
My
motto: Why just walk, when you can make a marathon out of it?!
Larry got home
about 6:30 p.m. that day, scurried to take a bath and make himself presentable,
and then we headed for Omaha to see Andrew, Hester, and Keira.
Caleb stopped by on
his motorcycle just before we left. He’d
gotten overheated that day at work, had quit sweating, and didn’t feel so
great. By the time he rode out to our
house, he was feeling better. Suddenly
hot days in the spring sometimes catch the menfolk off-guard, and they don’t
realize they’re not drinking enough water to stay hydrated.
Hester entertained us as we drove by sending a picture of Baby Keira
in a tiny sleeper, with the caption, “I’m wearing clothes!” She was asleep, but there was a little smile
on her face.
So I wrote back, “Looks like she’s downright happy about
it, too!”
Keira was wide awake when we got there. Andrew was changing her. She
weighed 3 lbs., 14 oz. that day. I
gave them the bag of clothes I’d bought last week at Big Wheels 2
Butterflies.
The Big Wheels 2
Butterflies resale stores (five of them) are in Omaha and Papillion (suburb
of Omaha) and are operated by two women who are twins, along with their
mother. It’s mostly a used clothing store, though there are some new
things.
The nurse opened the
isolette for me, so I could get a picture without a reflection in the glass. Keira is staying awake a little longer at a
time. She cried momentarily when we were there, such a tiny little cry –
but a whole lot stronger-sounding than the first time I heard her. That time, it was a wee little mewling.
I can’t quit
looking at her sweet little face! We love her so much.
Upon leaving the hospital, we went to eat at
Applebee’s, as our neighbors had given us a gift certificate for caring for
their goats and chickens while they were gone.
When we got home, I
worked on the rag-shag rug for a while. By
the time I quit and headed for the feathers, I figured I had about five yards
in that rug, and would probably have about seven in it when it was done. But I can’t be sure; I didn’t measure all the
yardage I cut. Some of it was in scraps
and odd shapes anyway; hard to measure them accurately. This rug is heavy!
I’m going to paint some rubbery stuff on the back, so it’ll be quite stable to
walk on.
Here’s what I got:
But there’s this,
too:
I got Fiber-Lok
because it was the only kind I found at the time I bought it. If I would’ve
had both to choose from, I think I’d have picked InPlais – seems like it’s not
so toxic, maybe. And strong smells
bother me a lot. I’ll probably apply the backing outside on the deck
table.
I had my windows
open that night as I sewed, enjoying the cooling night breeze.
I heard a
‘meow’. I looked at the window – and
there stood Teensy on the steeply sloped roof edge just below that dormer
window.
He’d gone up
Larry’s ladder! Larry has been putting
new shingles up there where a recent windstorm blew a bunch off.
Victoria used to
remove her screen and let that cat in. I can’t get the screens out, though, and,
besides, I don’t like to encourage the cat’s penchant for climbing on the roof!
So I ran down the
stairs, opened the front door, and called him.
It was pitch black out, so I couldn’t really see what happened next; but
that cat was on the porch, meowing, and coming in the door so quickly, he
couldn’t possibly have come down that
ladder one rung after another, the way he went up. He must’ve jumped a good deal of the way. He was still walking on all four legs, so I
guessed he hadn’t broken anything. Crazy
cat.
Friday afternoon, I finished the rag-shag rug (all but the
Fiber-Lok). It feels nice underfoot.
The cats must agree; they were immediately underfoot, too, sprawled on the rug,
from the moment I laid it down. It
measures 45” x 66”.
I trot around
barefooted most of the time. A friend remarked that she didn’t think
walking on double knits – wadded double knits – would be comfortable at all.
But I like how it feels. It’s
thick and soft, and will be more restful for feet than the bare oak floor,
whilst standing at my frame quilting away.
 |
| Note the striped tail on the right. |
Baby
Carolyn has recently taken a real shine to books. And she loves to be outside. Victoria sent a picture of the baby sitting on a blanket on the front lawn, holding a book about kittens. (Never mind the fact that the book was upside down.)
It was
hot that day – it got up to 99°. That’s
a good 20° hotter than average for that date.
A friend wrote of how some of her in-laws sometimes show up without
warning, and are never polite enough to go away when they can clearly see they
are intruding at an inconvenient time. Plus,
they are not hesitant at criticizing her for how she keeps house.
“They are bloody perfectionists!” she said. “Nothing I do ever pleases them anyway. Maybe I’ll just sew.”
My recommendation:
Keep vacuum, broom, dusting cloth, and
dishcloth waiting, and the moment those critical visitors show up, say (all
twinkly), “Oooooo, so glad you are here! Here you go.”
Plop a dusting cloth/broom/whatever into
their hands. Add, “And thank you!”
A woman we used to know once arrived at my
house unexpectedly. There were toys all
over the living room (it was the only room where the children
could play, other than their bedrooms – we had no family room), and a pile of
clothes I was folding was on the couch. When I saw her face, I scooped up a big Tonka
truck that was directly in her path and handed it to her (people automatically
take what you hand them, whether they want to or not, ever notice that?), then
piled a stack of folded diapers atop the truck.
“Those go in the baby’s room,” I told her,
pointing.
She trotted right off like a good girl to put
them away, looking a mite shell-shocked.
The kids were all standing there giggling
behind their hands.
In moments, with her help, the living room
was spic and span, and we sat down to have a cup of coffee. Her face was hilarious, and she had no
idea what to talk about. ((snerk,
chortle))
Make disapproving face at me, will
ya!!! ((evil sniggle))
It
was her snippy, snotty, judgmental face, when I knew her house was often in
just such an upheaval as mine, that brought out the worst in me. 🤨 Or
the best. Maybe that’s the best.
heh
Lydia wrote that
evening to tell me they are going on a little camping trip.
I wrote back, “Sounds
like fun. Can I come?”
Lydia responded, “Jacob
says there’s not room. 🤣 In all seriousness.”
“Haha!” I replied.
“Tell him Grandma didn’t mean it, because he probably snores and would keep her
awake.”
He laughed.
They went to
Nebraska National Forest, near Halsey.
I began piecing together batting for my Americana Eagle quilt.
Bobby and Hannah
and the children, Aaron, Joanna, Nathanael, and Levi, came visiting that night,
bringing a blueberry lemon cake to share with us. Since it had been Levi’s birthday the
previous Monday, Hannah brought along candles for the cake so they could light
them and Levi could blow them out again.
😊
After we ate, some
of us went upstairs so I could show off my new rug. While we talked, I began loading the backing
for the eagle quilt onto my frame. I was
no sooner done than I realized, Oops,
it’s wrong side up.
Thankfully, I use
Red Snappers rather than pins, so it’s a quick job to remove things from the
frame and start over again. Takes a few
minutes to get it rolled on nice and straight ... but not as long as taking a
quilt apart because the backing is wrong side out! 😲
Later that night, I
got the layer of Hobbs Heirloom 80/20 (80% cotton, 20% polyester) batting
loaded and stitched down.
Saturday wasn’t
quite as hot as the day before – 94°. Still, that’s hot for May.
I rummaged up
enough medium-high-loft Hobbs Poly-Down batting to add another layer before
loading the eagle quilt top. This will make it puffier on top, and the
quilting will really show up. I haven’t ever done it before (except for
years ago, when I tied quilts instead of quilting with a machine – and
then I did two layers of extreme high-loft batting, because I thought, the puffier, the better. I hope I can keep the batting nice and
smooth.
Professional
quilters do it, so why shouldn’t I? (Why,
indeed, heh.)
After I sewed the
first layer of batting down at the top, I looked at the back with my mirror and
flashlight. It looks perfect. No giant needle holes like there were
on my last customer’s quilt. And I’m using the same size needle, and the
same kind of thread. It must be
the fabric; that’s the only difference.
I pulled up Outlook
to write the lady a note – and discovered an email from her. She’d bound her quilt that morning, put it
into the washer and dryer... and she says this:
“Out of the
dryer...we have achieved crinkly, quilty goodness! The back still looks pretty rough, but again,
to the normal eye, I don’t think it is terrible. All of the stitching holes righted themselves,
as I hoped they would. The black binding
just frames it all in and really looks nice! Sending PayPal today.”
I’m not sure why it
‘looks pretty rough’ if the ‘stitching holes righted themselves’, and I don’t
know how the holes could really go away, when for all the world it looked like
fabric fibers had actually broken. When things like this happen, I wonder
what on earth I think I’m doing, quilting other people’s pretty quilts. 😟
I wrote to thank
the lady, and also to tell her that a handful of people had told me that they
had purchased fabric from that company – not the exact piece, but similar, with
multiple dye layers – and the very same thing had happened.
One woman said I
should’ve used a size 12 needle – my needles were way too big. Well, but
they don’t even make size 12 needles for my machine! She was a
member of a longarm group... but size 12 is what I use in my domestic
machine, not my longarm. I used the smallest I could, without getting
skipped stitches and shredded thread.
Another said I
should’ve used ballpoint needles – but Superior Thread Company and plenty of
other quilting advice forums say exactly the opposite: ballpoints are for
knits and loosely woven fabrics. Sharps are what is needed for
tight weaves and high-density fabrics. That’s
true whether one is using a DSM or a quilting machine. A technician and dealer for the HandiQuilter company
even wrote to say the same.
I always wonder how
people can be so adamant about something, when they’re dead wrong.
I’ll betcha washing
that fabric first would’ve helped; that seems to be the common consensus.
The fabric wasn’t cheap – $15 a yard!
I have a new and
different problem now: squirrels have moved into the ceiling of my
quilting studio!!!
Somebody bring me a
smoke bomb.
One small squirrel’s
nest on a hot day can make the room over which it has been built smell awful,
did you know that??! I had fans and air conditioner on, and earlier I had
both windows open – but it was 95° out, and that’s too, too hot to have the
windows open in this upstairs room. Larry was supposedly going to come
home and do something about it, but he was cutting hay Teddy’s house a quarter
of a mile away.
Aarrgghh.
After getting the batting all pieced together and
stitched onto the backing, I loaded the top and began threading the machine.
When I saw that I was running low on the colors I will need, I stopped and
ordered thread. Good grief, it used up all but $10 of what I made on the
last customer’s quilt, just ordering three large cones of thread! At
least it will last a good while, since each cone has 6,000 yards on it.
For comparison, a regular spool of Coats & Clark thread from Wal-Mart
only has 300 yards on it. That spool costs $2.27. Hmmm... So
I would need 20 of those spools to equal 6,000 yards — and that would be
$45.40. So I guess the cost of quilting thread isn’t as bad as I was
thinking, is it?
I hope my new thread arrives before I run out of the colors I need. It’ll probably be here by the end of the
week; the place where I order it always ships quickly, unless there’s a
backorder.
By bedtime, the top
border of the Americana Eagle quilt was done.
S’poze I can get it done for Father's Day? I want to make a matching pillow, too, mainly
because I have exactly the right number of Prairie Points to frame a central
square on a pillowtop. I like using up every
last scrap from a project, if I can.
After our Sunday morning
church service, we put flowers on family graves, then ate dinner with Kurt and
Victoria and Baby Carolyn (though Carrie slept through the majority of
it).
It was 97°, still about
20° hotter than usual for this time of year. It’s making up for the
blizzard and extra-cold spring we were having just a month ago, I guess!
Hester wrote last night to tell us that Keira was 4
pounds, 3 ounces! She got moved to a
crib on Friday. She’s six weeks old
today.
“She always looks
curious about everything when she’s awake and calm. 😍” wrote Hester. “It would be fun
to know what babies are thinking!”
Lydia then sent pictures
from their campground, including one with the boys in their beds in the camper.
“Looks like more
fun than a barrel of monkeys!” I replied.
Larry is cutting hay at Teddy’s house again this afternoon. When he came home for lunch, he burnt a pile
of branches and old growth that I’d cleared from the flowerbeds.
Originally, the wind was blowing the smoke away from the house, but it shifted
and began blowing from the north/ northeast, and soon I was smelling smoke. If
the house wasn’t in danger, my NOSE was.
Reckon if I moved to Antarctica, I wouldn’t have to smell anything
objectionable??
Fortunately, the
wind shifted again, and the smoke went wafting off toward the east. The bonfire, having once died down, went back
to bonfiring (should be a word). Then
it rained, and the smoke, she ain’t no mo’, no mo’. 😃
Larry brought home Revenge Rodent Smoke Bombs – without reading that they
are NOT to be used in buildings of any sort.
They are only for putting down burrows. They’ll kill pets and they might kill people,
and could very well start a house on fire.
There are instructions on the box telling how to render CPR.
Nice.
So off he goes to town to get a Car Bomb.
"Do you know what a Car Bomb is?" he asked me.
"Yes, they use them in Syria," I replied, which made him laugh.
Yeah, I know what we use Car Bombs for, here in the good ol' U.S. of A. They're used in cars in which people have smoked, to rid them of the smell (the cars, not the people).
"Do you know what a Car Bomb is?" he asked me.
"Yes, they use them in Syria," I replied, which made him laugh.
Yeah, I know what we use Car Bombs for, here in the good ol' U.S. of A. They're used in cars in which people have smoked, to rid them of the smell (the cars, not the people).
I went on reading more squirrel articles – and then sent Larry a
text: “You might
get bug bombs and ammonia and rags to put the ammonia on, too. Many say
this works, and gets rid of bugs the squirrels bring in, into the bargain. Hot
Shot Fogger is the one you want.”
He came back home
and ate supper – chicken breast filets, seasoned baby bakers, carrots (all
baked slowly in the pretty little Dutch oven Caleb and Maria gave me),
strawberry jello, and apple pie. Then he
headed upstairs to set off the bug bombs in the cubbyholes and behind the
in-dormer-wall drawers in my quilting studio. We don’t have an attic, as
we have high, slanted ceilings up there (as you can see from the pictures of my
quilting studio).
I think we found
where the squirrels are getting in – an open area under the eaves at the back
of the house. Hopefully, we’ll now be able to seal it off and stop this
problem. The last couple of hot days, I walked into my lovely quilting
studio and smelled... Essence of Squirrel Nest. Ugh, ugh,
ugh!!!! Can’t stand that! Plus, they chew wires, etc., and cause
all sorts of hazards. Gotta get them out.
The squirrels
should exit the place quickly... and tomorrow, Larry will put a long piece of
trim in that area under the back eaves.
Sad thing is, those
Bug Bomb chemicals evidently got to a starling’s nest that was in the eaves, at
completely the opposite corner of the house from my quilting studio. When I slid open the patio door, I didn’t
hear tiny baby birds chirping, as I have been for a week or so ----- and the
mother starling kept chirping and scolding and chirping some more. In fact, here it is 11:25 p.m., and I can
hear her out in the Austrian pines in the back yard, calling and calling.
That makes me want
to cry with her! I don’t really want bird nests in my house
eaves... but I don’t want to kill the birds!
This ol’ world can be a cruel, cruel place, can’t it? But we
didn’t mean to make it so!
Siggghhhhhhhh... {If stupid squirrels would just stay in the
maples and oaks and cottonwoods where they belong...}
Somebody wanted to
know what happened to the June bug that snuck into the house last week.
He perished. However, he went down nobly and with a grand
fight, and had me diving and dodging and leaping wildly out of his erratic
flightpath for a while. His family, in
ringside seats on the front window, will be able to tell their grandchildren, “Grandpa
died a death of great dignity, not giving in until his last flutter.”
((shudder))
I have a
gazillion email ‘rules’ with various sounds and audio clips for anyone who
writes to me more than twice -------- and these sounds regularly interrupt our
conversations, and you really would think that my computer was listening to us
talk and making fitting comments at the perfect moment.
Just now as I wrote
about Granddad June Bug, I received an email from an elderly friend named
‘Bee’. My computer appropriately made a
loud buzzing noise, not sounding too much different than a June bug sounds. hee hee
Well, I’m sad about
the starling’s nest, but at least it wasn’t an oriole’s, or a mockingbird’s, or
a wren’s. 😥
Here’s a picture of
what I had for supper at Applebee’s Thursday night. It’s called ‘Neighborhood Nachos’. I knew why they’d name it thus when they
brought me this herculean tray piled high with nachos (I got it with chicken,
rather than ground beef): it’s enough to
feed an entire neighborhood, for
cryin’ out loud! That one platter of
food has 1,850 calories in it, would you believe. I made my way through a third of it and was
plumb full. They brought me a lidded
carton for the remainder, and we brought it home, saved it until Friday
evening, and shared the rest of it for supper.
Other than the chips being a little less crunchy, it was still quite
good. We had cottage cheese and chunky
cherry applesauce with it, and then we were full.
How on earth would
any one person get around the outside of a helping like that?! Ah, well. We certainly got our money’s worth out of it!
,,,>^..^<,,, Sarah Lynn ,,,>^..^<,,,
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