Deidra Alexander's Blog

The Pistol Hiking Last Fall

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I was flipping through some old family recipes and came across the old opossum recipe. I should’ve offered to cook Christmas dinner.

It starts with – “the opossum is a particularly fatty animal with a peculiar flavor.” And why do we have a recipe for peculiarly flavored animals?  If it doesn’t taste like chicken, I don’t want to know about it.

“It is dressed much as one would a suckling pig…” The language strikes me as a little formal. You think if we were smart enough to use such language we would have been smart enough to avoid roadkill. Perhaps I think too much. 

“Soak overnight, stuff with opossum stuffing, ….” Opossum stuffing? Hum, recipe not on this page. Now I’m intrigued.  Flipping to stuffings.  Past moose, reindeer, here stuffings right after squirrel.

We have apple stuffing, celery stuffing, chili, mushroom, onion, oyster, raisin, sage, sausage. Ah yes Opossum Stuffing. Contents onion, breadcrumbs, red pepper, hard cooked egg, fat, (I like a woman who can tell it like it is.) and opossum liver,  of course.

As I sit here having a good laugh, it occurs to me.  You guys never made me eat any of this stuff, right? Oh God, that’s going to add to my therapy bill.

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Ugh, I have a rip roaring headache. Too much sugar I think. See Cherry Pie tweet. I don’t know why I capitalized cherry pie, except it’s so super awesome it needs to be a formal noun.

(Mental note: Add Cherry Pie to list of possible baby names for a girl.)

Or I could have a headache from inhaling fumes all day. I was working with inks and some household stuff to create ink art. I don’t know if you can call inking a painting since inks are normally used for drawing. But if you paint with ink, it can’t be a drawing, right? Or maybe my headache is from thinking too much.

I’m going to attempt to post one of the pictures I worked on today. That is if my brain cells don’t pop before I figure out how.

Oh, look there’s a button at the top of the page with “Insert Photo” written on it. I’ll try that first.

Things That Eat Things That Go Bump in the Night

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I stumbled across a picture of my Grandmother when she was young. She was wearing a bra and a man’s tie holding a bottle of whiskey. So what did I learn from this elderly vixen?

I learned to bridge cards when shuffling which was the prerequisite to learning poker. I mastered both of these skills when I was 4. I entered kindergarten not knowing the alphabet, but ready to hustle the rest of the class.

At the much more mature age of 6 I learned to roll cigarettes. Grandma would say, “I’m busy over here, go roll Gramm’s a cigarette.” And I would trot over to the tobacco and papers and roll one up.

But the best thing I learned was Grandma’s dirty songs. I think she just made them up on the fly. When I sang them to my Mom and my Aunts, they would yell “Mother” quite sternly. I never had a great singing voice, so my philosophy was and still is if you can’t sing, go for volume.

Since I’m waxing nostalgic I’ll end with a song from Gramms, an oldie but a goodie –

Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes

I’ll never love pink titties again….

P.S I could also curse like ‘a sailor on leave’ by the time I was 6.

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First though something a little off topic, I would like to apologize to the energy company. The check was not lost in the mail. The chick lost the check under a pile on the desk. So you won’t be hearing from my attorneys after all.

Now, back to your regular programming.

I found a couple of notes that I don’t remember writing.  These could possibly land me in a padded room, if I took related actions that I also don’t remember. Let’s hope these are just more freakishly bazaar ramblings of a rabid mind.

“It’s not that I couldn’t kill a werewolf, it’s that I didn’t want to anymore. At least that’s what I thought yesterday before I was kidnapped by one. Now, I was considering making an exception.” (Not to worry, I escaped to blog another day.)

“He knew she was the kind of woman who left a mark on people in general, but men in particular. Knowing Myria would change your life forever whether you liked it or not. Everyone longed to know her and men…” (and men what and men what??? WHERE’S THE NEXT PAGE! Someone heard me utter those words in my Gollum voice. Creeping closer to the padded room, aren’t we my precious.)

“I’m not your regular human adoring being.” Maybe I should check the pit in my basement and see if there are any humans I’m fattening up to make a human suit out of.

Come Precious. maybe the nasty humans have the next page…

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