Fried Butter Balls/Use the Real Phone

Sometimes, something I read, or a line I hear gets stuck in my head and I can’t stop thinking about it. This has happened on a couple occasions this past week

The first was reading the recipe a very good friend posted on his facebook page: Paula Dean’s fried butter balls. This just sounded so wonderful. What tickled me more than anything were the comments left by the “food police” about how horrible and unhealthy this recipe is…. How I wish people would lighten up and enjoy life a bit.. one butter ball at a time!

That got me to thinking; it had been a while since I was really bad in eating, so I cooked up a huge mess of fettuccini alfredo. It is too easy to fix… melt half a stick of butter, with couple handfuls of cheese and then add heavy cream. Wisk it all together over low heat and just before serving I’ll add a big spoonful of minced garlic. Dump it all over prepared fettuccini and it is like you died and went to heaven…..

The second incident that has me still laughing was the E-mail I got from Joe. I had just missed his phone call last Thursday. I now have free long distance through my computer. I called him using my Google account. God only knows what number showed up on his caller ID, but he refused it!!

I sent him off this E-mail:

Hi Hun.....
Was out painting and had to come in the house. Sorry i missed your call. Called you on my computer but it did not go through... back to my painting!!

His answer VIA E-mail was:

Call me on the real phone then you cheap whore!

Poor Meg Whitman was scandalized being called that in the heat of the California campaign. Having Joe call me that vulgar name was like a badge of honor! I’m still smiling as I type this out thinking about it!

It is because Joe is my “sister friend”. If I need to “bury the body” Joe will be there to help me. Such friendships are all too rare in today’s world……..

Saturday I finally made up creamed chicken with the left overs from the last roaster I bought at Sam’s. Since the kitchen was a mess I made up a batch of pudding. Stumpy had to sample a bit before it got poured into the serving glasses. I always expect lightning bolts to reign in from the heavens above when this occurs. My Ron had an unbreakable rule: No cats on the table ever!!! Stumpy and Daggy have total reign of this house. After twelve + years I think it is too late in the ball game to change things now!

Stumpy having a bit of the vanilla pudding:

Stumpy was the model of contentment this morning. I had to snap this picture of him before I headed out to affix the stroke seat to the display boat the restaurant bought from our Black Warrior Rowing Club.

The interior of the new restaurant is shaping up. I can’t wait till it opens and I can get pictures of our old shell. I took along zip ties and zip tied the seats to the tracks so there will be no chance of them letting loose. I feel a lot better knowing they are now securely in place…..