Blogfest 2013

There was some hot tubbing

Some water collection from a hole

(the Brat Child says this make CBW "rich")

Some beach time

Some oysters at Merroir

(Let me just say, I hate oysters but 

Noe Noe Girl shoved one of these in my mouth and 

I ended up ordering my own plate)

Some talks

Some hugging

Some nice scenery

And some wild gator rides. 

When can we come back??

Wordy Wednesday

It's nuts trying to maintain 4 blogs 

and prepare for a week's vacation. 

That doesn't mean I haven't been blogging at all,

it just means some suffer more than others. 

So, in a shameless promotion of myself, 

check out my other blogs to see what I might be up to.

The Wannabe Farm- All about life at home: chickens, horses, cats, gardens, preserving food, recipes... a real hodgepodge of stuff

Things The Brat Child Says- This is all about the funny stuff my son does. And he's pretty funny.

Gettysburg Ghosts - Like the title suggests, this is a blog about the paranormal: Stories, movie and book reviews, instructional information on investigations and whatever else I manage to blog about. 

Falling Apples

Yesterday was a snow day.  

That's right, it was March 25th and we had a snow day.   

In fact, we had the biggest amount of snow we've all all winter, err, spring.

So, while I was making the Brat Child's lunch-

which consisted of bologna and mustard cut in a specific way with exactly 2 pieces of bologna and mustard on each piece of bread and between the bologna-

I wondered where in the world he got his peculiar food issues.

And then it hit me.
ME.
When I was younger I would eat 2 things regularly:
a cheese sandwich that had to be cut exactly in quarters-
squares not triangles
or a bologna sandwich with mayo
and only Oscar Mayer bolonga.

I was thinking about a time I was over at Pepop and Memom's house
and I asked to stay for lunch.
Memom said, "Only if you bring your own bologna."
So I went over to our trailer and got my bologna out of the fridge.
I ran back over to Pepop's clutching my Oscar Mayer,
barged into the house waving the yellow package yelling
"I brought my bologna!"
Turns out Memom was joking.
Also turns out that apple of mine didn't fall too far from the mama tree.

Day 15: Death Row Meal

That's an easy answer:

Shrimp Boil

 It has everything: Shrimp, Corn on the Cob, Kielbasa, Carrots and Potatoes and Old Bay

But I'd want to eat it with friends.

 And wash it down with a chocit shake

And some Hush Puppies

The Seabreeze

As you cross over the old swing bridge onto Gwynn's Island, the first place you come to is Seabreeze.  It's a small restaurant right on Milford Haven with an excellent view of the water.

 

The view is great and so is the food 

(though it seems I didn't take many photos of the view, but trust me, it's nice)

 

Hush Puppies

Bacon Cheeseburger

Boston Cream Pie

And when you're waddling out of the restaurant

there's fiddler crabs to contend with in the parking lot. 

Heritage Day Part Two

After the festivities of the day, i.e., 5K's, crab races, shopping the vendors and watching the parade, our family gets ready to head to the large family picnic up the road. 

Midge and the Brat Child riding on Aunt Margaret's golf cart.
Notice the RV's in the background.
My family truly knows how to throw a party.

So we head over to the western side of Sturgeon Creek

It's always a good time with lots of food, lots of people and lots of laughing and story telling.

And this year, there was a band



And after/during the dancing and music, there are fireworks.

Shut Up, Dog!

I love Hush Puppies.

Of course, I have yet to find any Hush Puppies that can truly compare to those made at

Taylor's Restaurant back when it had it's seafood buffet and weekend entertainment.  

The Brat Child thinks Hush Puppies are made from actual puppies.

That's because I told him they were.

He doesn't care if they taste good with ketchup,

he won't eat them because "dey are nasty! and ah-gusting!"

These Hush Puppies are pretty darn good.

The name Hush Puppies came from a time when people would fry up leftover dough, toss it to the dogs and tell them to "Hush, puppies."

Personally I like the term "shut up, dogs"

but that doesn't have the same appetizing appeal as hush puppies.

Historically, runaway slaves were said to have used Hush Puppies to feed to the Master's dogs to keep them quiet, and Union soldiers supposedly fed fried cornbread to Confederate dogs to keep them quiet.

I wonder if Confederate dogs wore the typical gray uniform or the unusual butternut?

I prefer my puppies in butter.