If I am repaired, can we meet again for the first time, in all of the places I have feared to go, and then, again, in all of the places I will have forgotten, if I am repaired?




SC




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Here is the desk drawer in which all of my odds and ends are kept, tidbits that would otherwise never see the light of day.











Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Lunch Today

A
On the menu for lunch… sorry, dinner… today is catfish, or, what inland Southerners classify as... Seafood.

Our mud-sucking, bottom-dwelling fish will be breaded, fried and served with ample sides of slaw, white beans and hushpuppies, and steamed to succulent perfection in its Styrofoam container for roughly fifteen minutes: the drive time back from Harper’s legendary Catfish House, just across the State line, in Kentucky.

Aside from the sarcasm, I count a half-dozen challenges in the above paragraph alone, where I can apply what I’ve learned in the past month, and possibly overcome.

I don’t know about the Styrofoam though. It gives me the heebs... that squeaky noise. I don’t have to have compassion for Styrofoam, do I?

I hope not.

Anyway, it’s an adventure. Right?

1 comment:

  1. I feel like a cannibal when I eat my fellow bottom feeders but I eat them anyway. Lots.
    As for Styrofoam I learned to detest it in our trip from Hawaii to California. There was not a day we did not spot some floating in the Pacific. Food has to be exceptional for me to accept takeout in it and I confess that there are two places I know like that.
    It ranks right up there with men's jockey (briefs) underwear on the list of things I do not want to see.

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