It was the most acrimonious meeting of the Neighbourhood Association that anyone could remember. It was even worse that the one where the “foreign” family broke protocol and used cooking ingredients not on the “approved list,” for the annual Founder’s Day picnic.
“It breaks with tradition, and we all know how important tradition is,” Margery Cooke said authoritatively as others nodded in agreement.
“But times are changing,” Mable Hunt retorted, to applause of as few of the more progressive members.
“Well that might be all well and good over in Highland Park, but it won’t wash here in Pleasant Acres,” Margery countered.
In the end there was a very tense vote, and with the breaking of tradition the motion passed by the margin of three votes. Times were indeed changing in Pleasant Acres and the hanging baskets on Main Street were going to feature purple rather than red petunias this year. It was quite the coup.
It is said that the devil took the form of a serpent in the Garden of Eden, and that Lon Chaney was the man with a thousand faces, but both pale in comparison with Angie Ferris. She and she alone is the shape-shifter par excellence. She comes across all unassuming, and soon is ingraciated by whatever community she likes. Then she strikes.
Now, I have made her sound like a con artist or other felon, but the truth is that she is something even more damaging. She is a best friend stealer. That’s right, she will step right into the middle of a flurishing friendship then break it up, only to discard her new “bestie” for greener pastures and new conquests. What makes it worse is that she always leaves a rift of mistrust behind in the original friendship pair.
Angie is indeed a piece of work, and I can only imagine the damage she will leave behind when she gets to “big school” next year. Oh, didn’t I mention that Angie is eleven?
It had been one wild party, and at its centre was Gina. Gina was usually the life of any party. She was flamboyant, to say the least, and she would laugh, dance, and mingle until the cows came home. Last night was no different; and then came the 2 a.m. mojito challenge, which she naturally won. Yes, Gina was not only personable, glamourous, and fun, she could also drink like a fish. Of course her image didn’t quite make it to sun-up. Little did her fawning admirers realise how her sister got her home the next morning.
The military are masters of nomenclature. You do have to understand their unique world-view, however. Back in the ‘80s, our canned rations were replaced by MREs. In typical straight forward military-speak that was the acronym for “Meal Ready to Eat.” It was an accurate description I guess if what you mean by “ready to eat” is that it still requires the rehydration of various freeze-dried components such as shredded potato breakfast patties, also known as Styrofoam.
We have had rain virtually every day here in East Anglia for the last month. The sky has been grey, and it has been chilly for May. So soup seemed to be on the agenda. I decided to whip-up some mushroom soup as I had the ingredients at hand, and it made a yummy, warming filler on a drizzly day.
Mushrooms 20-25 chestnut
Garlic 5-6 cloves to taste
Potato 170 g/ 6 oz
Water 1.5 litres/ 6 cups (or so)
Vegetable Stock Cube 1
Greek Yogurt 2 Tbs
Salt to taste
Wash and cut the potato into 1/2 inch cubes (peeled or unpeeled to taste – I leave mine unpeeled). Remove the skins from the garlic and dice finely. Cut the mushrooms into 1/4 inch peices. In a pot or soup-maker place the veg and add the water. Pring to a boil and reduce to a high simmer if using a pan, or run one cycle of soup maker (about 30 minutes). Add the stock and cook for 10 -15 minutes longer or a 1/2 cycle of maker. Then blitz for about 30 seconds for chunkier, or 1 minute for smooth soup. Stir in yogurt and salt to taste – that’s it.