What could Friday mean, to a person who's retired? Well, it still means TGIF. I don't know why, but it still has the implication of a time of freedom...even though it's all free for me and my cohort wrinklies.
A teacher friend of mine said that it took her two years to realize, after her retirement, that she could go shopping at Mission Valley Center on any day of the week, not just Saturday.
Friday to me nowadays means my TOPS meeting here at the Senior Center. I have been in this group for years and am now down about ten pounds from my top weight. It was about 14 pounds, but I have been eating unwisely of late.
The Reader's Digest has announced its perfect diet for 2011, and lo and behold, if it isn't the old Atkins plan perfectly reproduced. Just eat the good stuff. I was on the Atkins diet in the seventies and I was gorgeous. And just skinny enough. It's hard to go back on it, though. Mostly because of how much I love toast and jam. Maybe I should to back to that old-new plan and allow self a toast with jam on Sunday morning. And no donuts at church. Hmmm....
Belatedly, we'll come to the word, "gizzard." What a perfect name to call a reprehensible organ that digests chickens' food. Tough (as shoe-leather), tasteless, utterly un-appetizing---and yet, there are people who love them. Today my silver guy tells how his father loved gizzards. My own grandfather, also born on Tennessee, was a gizzard-lover. Of course, my grandmother's fried chicken would make you love any part of that bird. One time, some Mexicans told my father that if they shot enough little birds (I don't know what the breed was) and cooked them up and fed them to me, my asthma would go away. My mother's brother went out with his friend Stuart and bagged a large number of the little birds and they cooked them up and we all ate of them. (Wheeze.) Just for a lark, so to speak, my grandmother and grandmother fried up a whole panful of tiny gizzards for my grandfather, and presented them, crispy and brown on a platter. He gobbled them up and pronounced them delicious. They didn't cure deafness either. All for today, YAZZYBEL
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