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onions and potatoes It's Suppertime All Over Appalachia
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I've noticed a distinct dip in the number of posts at around this time of day. I am presuming this to be the fault of the many gifted cooks in these fair hills. One can almost catch the wafting aroma of ten thousand cook stoves and their steaming treasures. Over there are hamburgers on the grill. A smattering of hot dogs fill the landscape surrounding them. and the little ones are standing on tip-toe to see if their dogs are ready to run to a bun. Down the street, someone is boiling corn (imported from god only knows where at this time of year) and slicing fresh tomatoes. In the pot yonder in the kitchen is a roast with onions and potatoes perfuming the air. Up in the holler someone's having eggs and bacon and home fries. There's a big plate of fresh-raised biscuits, creamery butter and last fall's apple butter. The cafe is serving roast chicken, mashed potatoes smothered in white gravy, black-eyed peas, spinach and corn bread. Somewhere someone's havin' the elixir of the gods
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onions and potatoes It's Suppertime All Over Appalachia
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of day. I am presuming this to be the fault of the many gifted cooks in these fair hills. One can almost catch the wafting aroma of ten thousand cook stoves and their steaming treasures. Over there are hamburgers on the grill. A smattering of hot dogs fill the landscape surrounding them. and the little ones are standing on tip-toe to see if their dogs are ready to run to a bun. Down the street, someone is boiling corn (imported from god only knows where at this time of year) and slicing fresh tomatoes. In the pot yonder in the kitchen is a roast with onions and potatoes perfuming the air. Up in the holler someone's having eggs and bacon and home fries. There's a big plate of fresh-raised biscuits, creamery butter and last fall's apple butter. The cafe is serving roast chicken, mashed potatoes smothered in white gravy, black-eyed peas, spinach and corn bread. Somewhere someone's havin' the elixir of the gods
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The administrator has disabled public write access. |
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onions and potatoes It's Suppertime All Over Appalachia
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I've noticed a distinct dip in the number of posts at around this time of day. I am presuming this to be the fault of the many gifted cooks in these fair hills. One can almost catch the wafting aroma of ten thousand cook stoves and their steaming treasures. Over there are hamburgers on the grill. A smattering of hot dogs fill the landscape surrounding them. and the little ones are standing on tip-toe to see if their dogs are ready to run to a bun. Down the street, someone is boiling corn (imported from god only knows where at this time of year) and slicing fresh tomatoes. In the pot yonder in the kitchen is a roast with onions and potatoes perfuming the air. Up in the holler someone's having eggs and bacon and home fries. There's a big plate of fresh-raised biscuits, creamery butter and last fall's apple butter. The cafe is serving roast chicken, mashed potatoes smothered in white gravy, black-eyed peas, spinach and corn bread. Somewhere someone's havin' the elixir of the gods
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The administrator has disabled public write access. |
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onions and potatoes It's Suppertime All Over Appalachia
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Wilma <
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| | I've noticed a distinct dip in the number of posts at around this time | of day. I am presuming this to be the fault of the many gifted cooks | in these fair hills. One can almost catch the wafting aroma of ten | thousand cook stoves and their steaming treasures. | | Over there are hamburgers on the grill. A smattering of hot dogs fill | the landscape surrounding them. and the little ones are standing on | tip-toe to see if their dogs are ready to run to a bun. | | Down the street, someone is boiling corn (imported from god only knows | where at this time of year) and slicing fresh tomatoes. In the pot | yonder in the kitchen is a roast with onions and potatoes perfuming | the air. | | Up in the holler someone's having eggs and bacon and home fries. | There's a big plate of fresh-raised biscuits, creamery butter and last | fall's apple butter. | | The cafe is serving roast chicken, mashed potatoes smothered in white | gravy, black-eyed peas, spinach and corn bread. | | Somewhere someone's havin' the elixir of the gods
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The administrator has disabled public write access. |
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onions and potatoes It's Suppertime All Over Appalachia
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Ol Whicker Bill <
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wrote in message I've noticed a distinct dip in the number of posts at around this time of day. I am presuming this to be the fault of the many gifted cooks in these fair hills. One can almost catch the wafting aroma of ten thousand cook stoves and their steaming treasures. Over there are hamburgers on the grill. A smattering of hot dogs fill the landscape surrounding them. and the little ones are standing on tip-toe to see if their dogs are ready to run to a bun. Down the street, someone is boiling corn (imported from god only knows where at this time of year) and slicing fresh tomatoes. In the pot yonder in the kitchen is a roast with onions and potatoes perfuming the air. Up in the holler someone's having eggs and bacon and home fries. There's a big plate of fresh-raised biscuits, creamery butter and last fall's apple butter. The cafe is serving roast chicken, mashed potatoes smothered in white gravy, black-eyed peas, spinach and corn bread. Somewhere someone's havin' the elixir of the gods
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The administrator has disabled public write access. |
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onions and potatoes It's Suppertime All Over Appalachia
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| | I've noticed a distinct dip in the number of posts at around this time | of day. I am presuming this to be the fault of the many gifted cooks | in these fair hills. One can almost catch the wafting aroma of ten | thousand cook stoves and their steaming treasures. | | Over there are hamburgers on the grill. A smattering of hot dogs fill | the landscape surrounding them. and the little ones are standing on | tip-toe to see if their dogs are ready to run to a bun. | | Down the street, someone is boiling corn (imported from god only knows | where at this time of year) and slicing fresh tomatoes. In the pot | yonder in the kitchen is a roast with onions and potatoes perfuming | the air. | | Up in the holler someone's having eggs and bacon and home fries. | There's a big plate of fresh-raised biscuits, creamery butter and last | fall's apple butter. | | The cafe is serving roast chicken, mashed potatoes smothered in white | gravy, black-eyed peas, spinach and corn bread. | | Somewhere someone's havin' the elixir of the gods
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