Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Every Meal Is Not A Banquet, Every Post Is Not A Masterpiece

Does time ever get away from you? Like when you sit down to write something, and you get all involved, and the next thing you know, an hour has gone by with nobody letting you know?

Yeah. That just happened. It's not like I was writing anything good. No War and Peace. Or perhaps you know that classic by its original title: War, What is it Good For?. Heh, heh.

No, I had just settled Farmer H with his supper of beer-battered fish and big bowl of steamed broccoli/cauliflower/carrots with cheese sauce, and slapped my own supper on a tray and headed to my dark basement lair as the sounds of feeding emanated from the La-Z-Boy.

I had an idea that I wanted to put in blog form, and started typing. The more it evolved, the more I became conscious of my food sitting idle at my left elbow. Oh, don't think Mrs. Hillbilly Mom was feasting on anything tasty or anything healthy. She had a delicious BBQ Chicken Wrap for lunch, and only needed something not very filling for supper.

Okay. The main part of my supper that I became conscious of was my little plastic party cup of birthday cake flavored ice cream. Uh huh. Only 110 calories, people! Let the record show that you should probably plan to eat it before 45 minutes elapse after taking it out of the freezer. That would have been pretty good, I think. Because after an hour goes by, your ice cream party cup has the consistency of that foamy stuff that forms on top of the water when you boil pork steaks before barbecuing them in the oven. But it's much more tasty! I actually LIKE my ice cream partially melted. But not completely melted. What's that? Yes. Of course I ate it!

So now I have my actual entree sitting here at my crusty elbow. I'd show you a picture, but nobody wants to see that. Besides, I'd have to go upstairs and stand on the porch, holding my phone out over the steps, to send the picture to my email so I can save it on my computer and put it on my blog. Which would kind of delay my delicious (now-stale) roll and can of Armour Potted Meat (still sealed, like the day it came off the conveyor belt) even longer.

Nom-nom. I can hardly contain myself.

Okay. I can.

And the thing is...I decided to use that post I was writing on my OTHER blog sometime. Sorry.


Sioux Roslawski said...

HM--The readers of this blog protest. We feel like we're riding second-class, in regards to your blog.

Address our concerns immediately.

fishducky said...

Your other twelve followers & I are upset!!

Kathy's Klothesline said...

I like my ice cream partially thawed, too! We have way too much in common! Now I want some beer battered fish .... You are right about a point of no return on that thawing, though. I would have eaten it, too.

Hillbilly Mom said...

I am NOT giving you each $20,000 for your second-class seats! The matter will be discussed when I am ready to discuss it. Now have some peanuts. You'll have to pick them out of the giant plastic tub of mixed nuts that has been sitting on the kitchen table/counter since before Christmas. DO NOT EAT THE LADYBUGS that might be mixed in.

Well, your angry mob will need a few less torches than 13, because some of those followers have not been seen in a coon's age.

We are really doppelgangers, I think, only you are the better-looking one!