Farmer
H is skating on thin ice. So thin that a single teardrop could send him
crashing into the depths to Lock Ness Monster levels. But don't you
worry about Farmer H, because Mrs. HM is nowhere near to crying. She
might, however, emit a dangerous drop of spittle while spewing her
displeasure with Farmer H's latest antics.
We all know
that Farmer H never needs anything from the store. So I have taken to
interrogating him about specific items, and using my incredible sense of
attention to detail to compensate. I know how many bananas he has left
in the bowl on the kitchen counter. I use them as a marker for when I
MUST go to the store. I knew Monday night that Farmer H had TWO banana
left. He'd be eating one Tuesday morning, leaving ONE. So the very
latest I could go to the store was Wednesday, or he'd be out of bananas.
I
was planning on a trip to Terrible Cuts on Monday, but Farmer H threw
off my schedule. So I changed it to Tuesday. As long as I was there, I
might as well go in The Devil's Playground for my weekly shopping. So
Monday night, watching Farmer H eat his supper of shrimp and slaw and a
Hawaiin Roll, I asked if we needed Hawaiian Rolls. They're closed up in
the cabinet, and I don't regularly eat them, so my power of observance
was not in play.
"I have two left."
"Okay. I'll get some tomorrow after my haircut."
And
I did. The mini sub roll Hawaiians, which are the ones Farmer H likes
best. They stay fresh for a pretty long time compared to regular bread,
several days past the date. We rarely have them long enough to mold.
They get a little stale when old, and I give them to the dogs, who love
them.
Anyhoo... Farmer H was gone when I got home with the
groceries (SHOCKER), so I had to carry them in by myself. As I went to
put the bunch of seven bananas in the bowl, I saw that there was no
room! That glass fruit bowl was filled with tiny green bananas! SEVEN of
them. Plus the one I knew would be left, turning spotty.
That
made me kind of mad. How in the Not-Heaven were we going to get rid of
15 bananas? It's not like I'm a baker or pudding-maker. And the bananas I
brought home were beautiful! I'd wheeled out the dolly under the banana
display at The Devil's Playground, to get the good bananas. Just right!
Bright yellow. The longest bananas I'd seen in a while. Yet Farmer H
had apparently brought home AUCTION BANANAS! Without bothering to tell
me.
Oh, but it gets worse. When I put away the Hawaiian
Rolls, I saw that there was a FULL PACKAGE of Hawaiian Mini Sub Rolls,
dated July 31. They'd be good at least until my next shopping trip. I
took out the pack of Hawaiians with two left, dated July 18, to give the
dogs. I guess I can freeze the new package. But it will probably stay
good anyway, with a date of August 10.
Farmer H's excuse for the bananas was: "I was sure you'd look and see them." For the Hawaiians, he only said, "Oh."
Too bad the dogs don't like bananas.
4 comments:
The bananas--peeled--could be frozen. Do you like banana milkshakes?
Frozen, they could be stuffed into... Well, perhaps I don't want to give you any ideas on how you can punish Farmer H.
Sioux,
What do you think I am, Madam, some kind of milkshake maker? I haven't used a blender since my first year of teaching, when I made strawberry daiquiris! After hours, of course.
No freezing here. They could become weapons for my eventual demise, I'm pretty sure.
Just put the yellow bananas on top of the green ones, that will give the green ones time to ripen while Farmer H eats the yellow ones. I'd send you my recipe for banana cake, but you've already said you don't bake.
River,
I'm sure you make a great banana cake, and thanks for the offer, but I really don't bake. The yellow bananas are already on top. I think Farmer H will have to eat his auction bananas two at a time. That will be the same as one regular banana like I bought.
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