Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart
Okay, so what's the best possible gift you could give a daughter who has spent the last quarter of a year devoting herself to your care after life-threatening heart surgery? What physically manifested token of your appreciation for her time, her sacrifice, her thousand little kindnesses and several large ones, could you offer this holiday season? What would be the perfect gift for your beloved progeny, the one who's a vegetarian and once got so sick on peach cobbler that she hasn't had peach-flavored anything for nearly 25 years?
How about a gift pack from a famous local restaurant of a pound of bacon, two pounds of sausage, and a quart of peach preserves.
Those who know me the absolute best, when describing my most egregious flaws, might say I'm self-centered and occasionally oblivious to the wants and needs of others.
But hey. It's genetics. What's a girl to do? Guess it's time for a BLT.
This message brought to you by the United Meat Slaughterers Council of America.
(I still love my dad though.)
How about a gift pack from a famous local restaurant of a pound of bacon, two pounds of sausage, and a quart of peach preserves.
Those who know me the absolute best, when describing my most egregious flaws, might say I'm self-centered and occasionally oblivious to the wants and needs of others.
But hey. It's genetics. What's a girl to do? Guess it's time for a BLT.
This message brought to you by the United Meat Slaughterers Council of America.
(I still love my dad though.)
posted by yelhsacrow at 5:28 PM
2 Comments:
This makes me sad and it makes me laugh too.
I have a shelf full of years of stuff from Lovelace Cafe. My father-in-law gives it to us every year because he loves it and he loves us and it's his muddled way of mixing the two loves. It's also his little-boy way of making sure someone will cook it for him
Donate it to a food pantry for the needy.
At least you should have a nifty new rubber jar opener now, I use mine all the time and every time it makes me smile and remember the times I've visited the cafe.
Although I don't like it so much any more since they changed owners, the rough original was much more fun in a yeehaw way.
I know, rb, I spent 5-10 minutes feeling reeeeeeeeeeaaalllly sorry for myself, then I called my sister and she laughed uproariously for a long time. That made me feel better.
I didn't realize the Loveless was so famous! I guess they have quite the mail order business. I agree, it's not as good now that it's clean. You must live around these parts, eh? (Or is that classified information)
My dad called and said that was just half of my gift. Then I worried that maybe he'd seen my blog, even though I've never mentioned it. Gosh, being paranoid is exhausting...
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