1300. A feast to celebrate!

Even in the jungles of darkest Africa, the wild creatures wondered how to celebrate most appropriately the 1300th story on this blog.

“Why don’t we,” suggested the pretty hyena, “celebrate with a dance?”

“A dance is a good idea,” added the elusive tiger, “but why not combine it with a feast?”

“A feast it is!” declared the imperial lion. “We shall celebrate the 1300th story on this blog with a massive feast.”

All the animals of the African jungle did just that. They attacked en masse the people of an entire village. There was plenty for all, although not a scrap left. And there was blood all over the place! What a feast! What a celebration! Congratulations!

1206. It was Christmas Day!

 

It was Christmas Day! It was also Patsy’s first Christmas for fifty three years without her husband who had passed away in June. Both her children were overseas; one on military duty and the other in the diplomatic corps.

“Let’s not get morbid,” thought Patsy. “I shall celebrate Christmas with a little feast.”

Patsy purchased an hors d’oeuvre (“Do not defrost, heat in oven for ten minutes”), the biggest chicken to roast that she could find (“But for Christmas I shall cook it like a turkey”), and a host of vegetables as side dishes (“Different enough from the usual to make it celebrational”).

“I shall have a little wine with it all, and then end with a slice of homemade piping-hot apple pie with whipped cream. I shall top it off in front of the TV with a nice coffee and some marsh mellows.”

But what a stormy Christmas Day! Snow flurries and sudden gusts of wind! And then the electricity went off. A black out. Everything was only half cooked.

Patsy sat wrapped up next to the fire and roasted her marsh mellows on a stick. Oh! She almost forgot! A little wine!

Happy Christmas everyone!

840. Daily feast

I don’t want to bore you, but I do want to tell you a little about what I’ve been eating. At least, it’s what I’ve been having for the main evening meal. It doesn’t include what I might eat at other times during the day.

On Monday it was ground shoulder of farm raised beef served over pearl barley and oven-roasted red potatoes. Served with a sauté of fresh pan-wilted spinach, fresh kidney beans, zucchini, green beans, roasted corn mash and a touch of garlic.

On Tuesday it was hormone-free baked chicken breast and ground New Zealand leg of lamb again with pearl barley, oven roasted Idaho russet potatoes, and fresh baked whole-wheat croutons. Served with a sauté of California carrots, broccoli, and yellow squash.

On Wednesday it was slow-roasted ground pork, farm raised hormone free turkey with long-grained rice. Served with sautéed cabbage, steamed butternut squash, California broccoli, and fine ground fresh grated carrots with fresh baked and toasted rye croutons with organic safflower oil.

You get my drift… The trouble is, it might look and sound nice enough, but it’s predictable as you can get. Every Monday is the same. Every Tuesday is the same. Every Wednesday is the same. Need I go on?

It sucks being a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel in this household.

To listen to the story being read click HERE!