VeraLee's Post is Missin' In Action

That woman...she wrote a post and then deleted it...she did tell me about it and it was one of those stories from our past...the ones I told her to write because I would forget. So I am waitin!

I will forgive her however cause she and Bubba turned out some fine Mojo Gumbo last night. It had a slow burn that started on the back of the tongue and worked it's way all the way down to the Shack. (Ask MeMe about the Shack) To top it off, VeraLee made a King Cake that set me to dream'n last night. I won't say more cause she is gonna write about it.

The Manager sent his "Boo" over to pick up Buck cause of his hip. It was nice, hav'n door to door service like that. I felt like an olympic curler or kurler...or fast person on skates and a broom, cause I was sweepn' in front of every step Buck took. We must have looked a sight. But the main thing was that we got there without a slip and had a great time just bein with friends. When its snowed for two days on...even slugs git a little tired of the same-o-same-o.

Be'n from Chicago, the Manager puts on Snow tires the first of November. We all depend on him to take us places when it snows; so he called me yesterday mornin to see if I needed anything in the line of groceries, thank God, cause we were out of anti-snow venum and needed a bottle of red and a bottle of white. Glad he got'um too because that's all we had to share for the gatherin'. Guess that's what made the walk home so easy!

Nannuk LaMae (our little snow bunny) came through the back alley, she is so used to bein' a back door girl that she brings a second pair of shoes in her purse. She gave us the followin' report; the alley was icy, the snow was deep and Bubba hadn't swept off the back steps. Things we didn't know already. She's cookin tonight, the chili she put back when she found out I was cookin last week. It's Superbowl Sunday don't cha know, and besides be'n our seasonal Teena, she is also the only Teena that has experienced the sportif lifestyle. The rest of us believe a sprint is what you do when you want to git to the yardsale before VeraLee. (I once locked her in the car so I could beat her to a table I saw, but that's another story)

Mr. Jude and Dennis are still havin to walk the mile driveway up to their house in the "country" and so they couldn't justify takin a risk tryin to git to the gumbo last night. See, that's what happens when you move out of the Friendly Village! Hawks got his chickens the other night, that was sad, but hawks gotta eat too I guess.

Purl didn't git out either cause she is havin some bad stomach pains, brought on no doubt by VeraLee tellin her she was the sickest young person she had ever met. (See Curse Words for what that means)

Okay, didn't mean for this to actually turn into a post...but as usual, once you wind me up...I've got to let the ham out. So, all that bein' said, VeraLee put your post up!