I've spent an hour this morning letting Gretchen into and out of the rain. The thunder keeps thundering, since sometime yesterday, and the rain keeps pouring. The creek's rising for sure.
All I have to do for dinner is make tea and a salad, and heat the ham. And restrain myself from eating the potato salad.
I was just thinking about memory. Why is it that I go into a room and forget what I went for? But for 50 years or so, every time I make a cup of instant coffee, I remember George Michael Busby saying, "I like a teaspoon and a dash"? Old age is cruel. It takes a lot of philosophy to laugh about it.
I hope the storminess doesn't keep my guests away this afternoon. "They're not going to come. I just know, they're not going to come." All that potato salad for me alone?
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Smartest dog in the world, but she hates dog food. This morning she flat refused to even smell the stuff. Such fun, cooking for a dog.
2 comments:
I hope everyone came that was suppose to do. Although, potato salad for only you? Sounds okay by me! Oh, by the by, did I miss something, which is normal for me. When did you get a dog?
We all came, and ate like hogs. The food was amazing. My favorites were Joanne's ham and my pound cake and Ramey's corn casserole.
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