Today is going to be a heavy news day. The weekend will be the same. I am trying to lay off the early stories micro looking at the Syria Missile attack (sorry Katherine). I intend to lay low for a day or so before posting the minutia details – I am only concerned in the general direction of things.
So I thought I would share the ole memory lane with you.
My mother was from German immigrant stock. My father was born in Mexico from Spanish stock. That combined stock yielded nine kids. It also caused very formal Sunday dinners. Now mind you, we were close to being poor. We were dressed. The long beautiful mahogany table based the silver chalices we drank from. And I can tell you, there is nothing more delicious than ice water from a silver chalice! It most definitely changes the water.
What I am about to share with you is the story of what I indeed witnessed but the words were from one of Tiny's Fraternity Brothers a half year after the fact.
Tiny was dating one of my older sisters and the big day arrived for him to be served up to my parents in front of the pig pen (formality you know.) Tiny was six feet two tall and is still suffering from the outcome of that meal.
“Tiny said he was more than nervous sitting at that long formal table with it's silver chalices and a three hundred pound bull presence at the head of it. There were over a dozen members of the interrogation board staring at him. Then Jenny's Mother brought out a silver platter with seven country fried pork chops on it. Even before the platter settled on the mahogany table forks began stabbing at it from every direction! Tiny said he had never witnessed such savage eating habits in his life. But he said later he understood it because the two chops he stabbed were out of this world. He is still eating those chops after 50 years.
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I'm busy working on my blog posts. Watch this space!