Pickled Pig Lips
As I strolled through the aisles of our new Sam’s Club with my jumbo-sized cart, I made some observations. First and foremost, I wasn’t aware that pig lips were a marketed product for human consumption. It boggled my mind further to know that someone would prefer this as a bulk item. Does pickled anything go bad if you don’t eat it in a timely manner?
A few rows over, I came upon a 50-pound sack of rice and a 25-pound sack of red beans. Being a transplanted Cajunite, I can appreciate the importance of these staple items, but unless you’re a restaurateur or a doomsday prepper, I’m not sure what you would do with this much red beans and rice. If you throw in some pickled pig lips, I guess you could have a nice block party.
In the middle of the store, I found a huge block of cheddar cheese, sculpted into the LSU mascot. We have some pretty loyal fans here who would consider it their duty to consume every last chunk of this cheddar. Of course, I’m sure that even the most loyal fan could find a bulk buy of laxative, worthy of the challenge. While I’m on the subject of gastronomical distress, let me note that Sam’s has enough Preparation H in a single buy to soothe the hemorrhoids of a herd of elephants…who needs that much pain relief?
Lastly, for all of you Macgyver wannabes out there, you can buy 2000 paper clips, 240 yards of duct tape and 5,400 pieces of gum for all of your disaster-averting needs.
“It’s none of their business that you have to learn to write. Let them think you were born that way.” – Ernest Hemingway
32 years ago today, my husband and I were married. It doesn’t seem that long ago…I remember it well.
My favorite bedtime story, The Happy Lion, written by Louise Fatio and illustrated by her husband, Roger Duvoisin, is about a lion living in a French zoo. For me, The Happy Lion was an introduction to French culture and the moral: the grass is always greener on the other side of the zoo fence. This 1954 children’s book gave birth to seven sequels and was the winner of the first Deutscher Jugendliteraturpreis, a German literary award. At age five, I didn’t care about the award or the sequels, I only knew that I wanted to hear it night after night before I went to sleep. From The Happy Lion, I gained my love of the written word and I learned to say bonjour and au revoir in a slow, southern drawl.