Is where we are today---the great line of rainstorms which has covered us intermittently for DAYS, with deluges and torrents and bursts---well, we can attest to many, many gallons of that, because we have been wading through and walking on it for days on end.
This happens perhaps once every several years, and WOW this WAS the year. AND THE RAINS CAME TUMBLIN' DOWN!
So, with the yet-to-be-put away lugs and containers of STUFF taken out of the storeroom to arrange all the leftover kitchen stuff I’ve culled out, and all the lugs and containers of STUFF that Chris packed, took to the coast for a week, and brought back, all lifted high and dry from the sodden carpet, or slid onto the slate in the kitchen, we’re still in absolute chaos.
The kitchen is gorgeous, but like a beautiful child, dressed in an unimaginable assortment of shoddy clothes and unseemly gewgaws, with wet feet and a muddy face to boot---well, it’s not yet for showing in polite company.
Towels all over the floor, for stepping from this wet carpet onto the slick slate will catch you unaware and send you flying if you don’t step directly onto a towel to dry your shoes. And stepping around all those cluttery lumps, in fear of falling and tripping, is not conducive to much cooking either. Miss Frankie is still shining, with her pretty red earbobs and big gleaming smile, and all the counters and PINK are simply lovely; they’re just taking backseat (rumbleseat, back of the bus, wait for the wagon) to all the other necessaries we’re coping with.
Y’all, the humidity in here has been so bad, it SNOWED in my new freezer!!!
But what the heck!! Yesterday was National French Fry Day!
I made the Fries, by Maw's crunchy-crispins recipe, and four dipping sauces: tarragon mayo, BBQ, grainy-mustard-mayo, and bleu cheese. We ate up at Caro's house, where she'd cooked us a wonderful dinner of pork chops, smothered squash and onions, kidney bean salad, and Unky Kim’s splendiferous scalloped tomatoes, right down to the little buttered toast points on top.
That and good company and laughing to complete the evening, and those pickles are looking mighty good right now.
Moiré non, soon as that dove gets back.