Hi there, guys and dolls! You know, I usually love Monday Night Bridge. I look forward to it all week. Not for the game of course, but to catch up on who did what to whom, who didn’t do what with whom, and to quelch a bad or start a good one about yours truly. And to eat. Madge, the perennial perfect hostess usually puts out a great spread.
However, not this week. You see, she still had a fridge and cupboard full of holiday leftovers that just should not co-exist on the same plate. Come to think of it, same planet.
We all should have ran for the hills when she brought out the first, um, delectable (not really the right word here, maybe disaster would be better). This, well, thing (meat mountain, tree, tower, horror, I give up…) not only looked off, but had the scent that its better days were long behind it. Not climbing that one…
It was followed by another miasma of terror, the jelly mold. Now, I’ll be the first one to admit I’ve preserved a few things in aspic (really, who hasn’t), but this one had the appearance of being a really good fridge cleaner. I swear that she had taken all those weird little bits that end up in a heap at the bottom of the crisper. At least it had character…
Oh, there were plenty of other greatest hits from the fridge of Madge (something pink and in the shape of a fish, I dunno, and a brown um, goo, with bread cubes on the side to mention a few more…), but the end showstopper were these, well, she called them banana candles (I can’t repeat what Val and Sal called them, but I can tell you the both referred to Hal/Hank in the same sentence) and more than one giggle could be heard through the distracted room.
But I will be the first to admit, the bourbon/vodka/whiskey/whisky/gin/whatever any other hooch lying around swamp water punch was pretty popular and downright almost tasty by the third burning gulp.
As I’ve said before, I love Bridge Night….
Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more posts. And don’t forget to give my Poppy Cove Mysteries a try if you haven’t already.
Toodles, Barbara Jean