I woke up Saturday morning to discover 16 bananas on my kitchen counter. I knew I did not buy 16 bananas. Farmer H is their regular consumer. I give him 5-7 a week, because they go bad. AND I have to rip them apart from the bunch, or they go bad faster. We tried that banana hook thingy, but after breaking the third one, I gave up. So imagine the image of 16 single yellow-green bananas laid out, spooning, on the burgundy kitchen counter. Okay, not all 16, because some were on the kitchen table due to overcrowding. That's a lot of bananas.
Farmer H has been on vacation this week. He got back from the auction
late Friday night. I have no idea what he buys until it appears, or he
brags about his bargains. I asked him why he bought so many bananas,
when I had just brought home five on Friday. Hmm. He didn't know. It
seemed like a good price. AND, he bought five ears of corn for a dollar.
Never mind that roastin' ears are 22 cents apiece at The Devil's
Playground, and we still have two from Save A Lot in Frig.
Last night, Farmer H, #1, and I had a bowl of sliced strawberries and bananas. I had a banana for my lunch dessert. Farmer H had his morning nanner as usual. That means 11 bananas of auction on the counter, 11 bananas of auction. Not quite as promising as 99 bottles of beer on the wall. We're a virtual Bubba Gump Banana Emporium. Banana fruit salad, frozen bananas, chocolate dipped bananas, banana splits, bananas Foster, banana bread, banana pudding, bananas on Cheerios, banana cream pie, banana muffins, banana smoothies, peanut butter and banana sandwiches, banana pancakes...naw. Don't go copying down that menu. I'm not going to raid the Hillmomba mint to buy fixin's to go with a couple of dollars worth of auction bananas.
I fear that we are dangerously close to crossing the Auction Meat line.