I’ve been working with Youngest Daughter to try to bring some order to her room. It is so funny to find old notes, attempts at poetry, and pictures that she and Lupe would concoct in their endless hours together. Tonight, this was the star of the creative discoveries:
“Matt and Raph are so tough/ Raph and Matt eat a very big Mac/ and that’s why they are fat/ So thank-you.”
(I have to wonder what brought that on!)
Lupe spent the night on Saturday night. She has been living with her sister in Rehoboth, taking care of her niece and nephew. It was incredibly sweet to have her here for the night. We never see her enough.
Today at Wal-mart, I stopped in front of the specialty meats and had a sharp stab of grief. I looked at those packages of Rapa Scrapple and realized that there is no reason to buy it any more. Since Gertrude loved it so much, I would try to keep it on hand for her, but Certain Man holds scrapple in great distain, and his offspringin’s have adopted his prejudice, so the only person who would eat it would be me — and Eldest Daughter if she happened to drop by. . . and that isn’t enough to warrant the purchase, so I walked away and left it there. Probably couldn’t get it past the lump in my throat, so it is just as well. Anyhow — to use the language of Certain Man — “Who wants to eat something that has everything in it that a pig has, but the squeal?” Come on, Native Delawareans, tell him a thing or two. His handicap is that he didn’t grow up in Lower Delaware, and he doesn’t know what’s good. So there!