So if you were, like, an ENT looking for a place to settle down and establish a thriving practice, Williamsburg just might be the place for you. Apparently, we have a shortage.
Fourth of July tomorrow, so no post. We'll be going down to my parents' for BLTs. Which reminds me, I need to call and find out what I should be bringing.
I'm looking forward to it immensely. BLTs are one of the few reasons to tolerate summer, as far as I'm concerned, and my family gets very serious about these sandwiches. We only do it once a year, but when the time comes, we do it right. Mom buys tomatoes big enough so that one slice will cover (and I do mean cover) the bread, and she cuts slices thick enough to shame steaks. Dad fries up nearly a pound of bacon per person, and they toast up most of two loaves of bread. A head or two of lettuce and a couple of bottles of Durkee's complete the ensemble. (I think I was in college before I learned that most people just put mayo or mustard on their BLTs.)
To make it the quintessential summer meal, we'd have a dozen or so cobs of sweet corn, and a big ol' watermelon for dessert. My mouth is watering, just thinking about it.
We may eat more on BLT day than we do at Thanksgiving, to be perfectly honest. But let's face it: turkey and mashed potatoes taste the same year-round. Tomatoes and corn are indisputably and indescribably better in the summer.
Yesterday, I came downstairs in the morning to find that Penny had -- for reasons unknown -- wrapped a satin and rhinestone toy dog collar around her Batman action figure and left him on my purse.
I don't know what she was thinking when she did it. What I thought was, Huhn. Well, it's not all that surprising that Bruce would be a little kinky. Or that he'd be the Sub.
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