Apple pie
When I was leaving the house last evening with my six pack and bags of chips, (I am the official chips'n'beer provider) heading out to the book group meeting, (everybody else has to cook something) M was peeling apples from our scraggly tree.
I gave up on those apples a long time ago because they are always worm infested and have been munched on by a profusion of small entities who seem to have no respect for private property.
Also, a few years ago I spent hours peeling and cutting out the bad parts to make applesauce which is still lounging in the freezer.
The book on discussion was Sarah Vowell's "Assassination Vacation". There seemed to be no disagreement about the book, so the discussion wended it's meandering way through history, politics, health care, Abe Lincoln, Henry Seward, Dredd Scott and who knows what else?
Oh yeah...Cats...Cats always get talked about.
Then, after my monthly sojourn down the banks of the mighty Lake Washington, flowing through the thick humid air, twilit scenery floating past the open windows, with the all blues program blasting from the Prius's speakers, (something I an never allowed to do when M is in the car), I arrived home in time to catch the last three quarters of a Mrs Marple Mystery.
As I was sitting there watching the pictures on the TV move and wondering just what was being said by the folks in the story with their mumbled, whispered, and just plain unintelligible variety of British accents, Keth asked if it was time for apple pie.
"You betcha", to quote our next president, (once the nation tires hearing sentences that are both complete and convey some meaning and is easier to make fun of).
And it was delicious.
Served with the usual caveats, i.e. "I put too much lemon in" she said.
No you didn't, it was a great pie.
As soon as I'm done with this post I think I'll have another slice.
Anyway it really doesn't matter about the dialogue in an Agatha Christie story It never makes much sense who did it or why.
At the denouement, somebody is picked to be the villain and an incredible back story is invented.
And it's always somebody.
And ain't that the truth?
I gave up on those apples a long time ago because they are always worm infested and have been munched on by a profusion of small entities who seem to have no respect for private property.
Also, a few years ago I spent hours peeling and cutting out the bad parts to make applesauce which is still lounging in the freezer.
The book on discussion was Sarah Vowell's "Assassination Vacation". There seemed to be no disagreement about the book, so the discussion wended it's meandering way through history, politics, health care, Abe Lincoln, Henry Seward, Dredd Scott and who knows what else?
Oh yeah...Cats...Cats always get talked about.
Then, after my monthly sojourn down the banks of the mighty Lake Washington, flowing through the thick humid air, twilit scenery floating past the open windows, with the all blues program blasting from the Prius's speakers, (something I an never allowed to do when M is in the car), I arrived home in time to catch the last three quarters of a Mrs Marple Mystery.
As I was sitting there watching the pictures on the TV move and wondering just what was being said by the folks in the story with their mumbled, whispered, and just plain unintelligible variety of British accents, Keth asked if it was time for apple pie.
"You betcha", to quote our next president, (once the nation tires hearing sentences that are both complete and convey some meaning and is easier to make fun of).
And it was delicious.
Served with the usual caveats, i.e. "I put too much lemon in" she said.
No you didn't, it was a great pie.
As soon as I'm done with this post I think I'll have another slice.
Anyway it really doesn't matter about the dialogue in an Agatha Christie story It never makes much sense who did it or why.
At the denouement, somebody is picked to be the villain and an incredible back story is invented.
And it's always somebody.
And ain't that the truth?
posted by Lane Savant at 10:01 AM
5 Comments:
VEry interesting what you say yes that is the truth in reality the history is invented back as in agatha christies books that does it to exaplain the new found information. Ny the way I read many books from her when i was arround 10 till 12 when I realized that he was not a good writter, too repetitive and I was already able to preview many things.
What kind of apples
were picked from your
scraggly tree? Whatever
kind they are, probably
they made better pie, after
Miss M peeled them and chopped
out the bad spots and critters,
than your average super market
variety of sprayed hot house
refrigerator variety, enit?
I love apple pie; pumpkin too.
Actually I prefer pie to cake.
Was the discussion favorable
regarding ASSASSINATION
VACATION, or otherwise. You
seemed to leave that data
out of your discourse, sir.
You are the chips'nbeer guy
for the Book Club. That's
cool. It is nice to munch
while your comiserate about
some form of literature or
other. You are in a book
club, and Melva is in a
book club, and many of the
film club members are in
a book club. But hey, I
have never pined away for
that kind of socialization
or social intercourse. It
is enough to be told what
movies to go see and discuss,
and to be told what books
to read as well would probably
push me over the precipice of
emotional freefall. I read
sporadically at things, novels,
poetry, politics, science-fiction,
quantum physics, MAD magazine;
you know, all the regular
stuff. Cats and book stores
seem to go hand in paw. King's
Books in Tacoma, where our film
club met for so many years,
always had 2-3 cats sitting
around looking for a lap. They
say it was still 90 degrees
when you cruised home in your
Prius. It was 69 this morning
at 4:30am as I made my way over
to the office, so that I could
find the time to blog here
and elsewhere. The heat index
is such that the government is
sending out several kinds of
alerts regarding patient care,
and taking care of ourselves.
Makes us glad though that we
bit the bullet several years
ago and put forced air conditioning
in at our crib. Upstairs is
comfortable, but downstairs, in
my man cave, it becomes almost
too cold. Isn't that odd? Way
it works I guess. I am closer
to the source of the cooling.
Our first film club pick for
August, (500) DAYS OF SUMMER, will
open in Tacoma this Friday.
I will need to set an example
for the group, being the head
honcho and all, and get my old
butt down there and check out
the romantic comedy. Probably
open in the U District too, if
you want to check it out.
Does your Miss M enjoy chick
flicks?
Glenn
Questions posed, inquiries made
wondering abounds, and still
the Sir Savant has been
too busy, or something, to
respond. That's cool. Actually
it is hotter than hell,
literally. 70 degrees at 4:30am,
and headed for over 100 degrees
today. Jesus Christ, let's quit
using arosols already, and
everybody buy electric cars,
and shut down Industry for
the summer, and put A/C into
Northwest homes. Our housekeeper
yesterday mentioned that as
he headed to work at 6am,
he noticed his neighbors
were sleeping out on their
lawn, and on their porch.
Now that is like something
you see on the share
cropper's farms in Mississippi
or some place other than
these pristine north woods.
I overslept a bit this
morning, and still feel like
I am moving in a dream. I
left the house without a
coat, and drove with the
windows open in my pick up;
yup, that old 65mph air
conditioning. Actually it
felt kind of good to be
dealing with 70 degrees
and a stiff breeze. How
are things in the heat
department over at the
palace on Red Wing?
We were so overheated last
night that all we wanted
for dinner was a large
salad. Seemed to work OK.
They say that even in
Austin, TX, the two year
drought, and this onerous
heat wave is making life
a triple bitch. Jannie has
not complained about it
much, but then she is like
that; always finding the
rainbows.
Glenn
Yay, our next President! Now, you're talking, Baby! :)
My grandmother, God rest her lovely soul, kept things in her freezer for 20 years, I swear. No wonder we all got the runs after visits to her place.
Hallo, Lane, Glenn, and Ms. Funster:
Finding half a worm in an apple you bit into is worse than finding a whole worm and would próbably make you a winner in a race to the toilet!
Tschüß,
Anonomann
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