I just woke up...

...sitting at my desk. I hadn’t eaten breakfast and I slept through lunch. There’s a bowlful of candy kisses in front of me so I think I’ll just eat that. Oh wait, it’s all coming back to me...I didn’t skip breakfast, I had an ice cream cone. I suppose that I should round out my menu for the day and make some fudge for dinner.

I went out to breakfast the other day...the Marietta Diner...of course. I went with a girlfriend of mine and when the waitress asked if I wanted hash browns or grits with my eggs, I chose the hash browns. My girlfriend said that the grits were very good and asked why I didn’t order them.

I have never eaten a grit in my life. I can’t figure out what the heck you’re supposed to do with those suckers. I've seen people put sugar, jelly, gravy or even eggs in them. Grits are far too confusing for me.

My friend said, “They're just like cream of wheat."

Well, I beg to differ. I know what goes in cream of wheat....milk and sugar. You don’t see people putting eggs and gravy in a bowl of cereal.

I’ve learned to cook a few southern dishes well. I can make a mean sausage gravy and biscuits. My country fried steak is out of this world. I can make bar-b-que...which in most places is a method of cooking, not a meal in itself. I have adapted my culinary delights quite well since I’ve been living in the south. But...there are just some things that I don’t understand and one of them is grits.

And one other thing, where I come from, you put butter and jelly on a biscuit. When Rick and I were married, we had all five of our collective children living with us. One morning, I made a nice breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs, bacon and biscuits.

I dished out the food onto the kids plates and then I turned my back to get some orange juice. By the time I turned back around, Rick and his kids had put all of their eggs and bacon on the biscuits. My kids each had a plateful of food. Rick and his kids, on the other hand, each had a biscuit with eggs and bacon sitting in the middle of their plates. I was perplexed to say the least.

At dinnertime, I half expected to see them sitting in front of a big plate with a piece of fried chicken, an ear of corn, and mashed potatoes sandwiched between a sliced dinner roll, sitting in the middle of the plates.

They didn’t do that. They said that would be nasty. Well, excuse me, but what the heck is the difference? When I make sandwiches, I make sandwiches. When I make a meal, I expect it to be eaten with a fork.

For the most part, I've adapted to the odd things that southerners do with their food. But I am not going to eat ONE grit until I figure out if it is a savory side dish or a sweet side dish. In the meantime, I’ll just have the hash browns.

But, not today. At this moment, I’m eating my candy kisses with a cup of coffee. Now, them’s good eats.

There are a few southern dishes that I don’t understand. Fried chicken livers for example. Don’t people realize that chicken livers are cat food?

And another bewildering dish, chittlings. What in the heck ARE those things? And, why in the world would anyone eat them?

Once, when I was working as a home health nurse, I visited a sweet old lady to do an assessment on her. She asked me if I would go and stir her dinner which was cooking on the stove. I took the lid off of the pot and what I saw frightened me so badly that I dropped the lid.

It made a loud, booming sound throughout the woman’s house. She asked what happened. I didn’t have the heart to say that her dinner was the first food that I was ever afraid of. Turns out they were chicken feet. This lady had a huge pot of chicken feet boiling in her kitchen.

I don’t understand southern cooking. People put chicken feet on their plate and eat them yet they whine when they find a finger in their chili. Flummoxing to say the least.

Well, I’ve finished my lunch so it’s time for me to go lie down and finish sleeping. I fear that I will now have nightmares about footless chickens.

Oh well, we all have our crosses to bear.

See ya,

Meg

PS My sister said that I STILL quoted her improperly. So, to clear up any misunderstandings and keep peace in the family, I just copied what she wrote. This is it:

I told you to post that I said I don't need a divorce to buy a jacket and that is why I am not jealous of you, airhead.

Whatever, Beth the Bug.