Placemats of Prediction?

When we went to the Black Bear Diner in St. George, everyone got a paper placemat with pictures of tasty looking food, such as pineapple upside down pancakes (they look sideways to me),

Bear-b-que chicken,

and bacon cheeseburger salad. 

(Not pictured was my little sister's order of cinnamon roll French toast, which made her smile after she ate the whooole thing!)

But my place mat had nothing, nothing food-wise, that is. Just a snow covered mountain with a cascading waterfall.

Was the universe trying to tell me something? 

Was I only supposed to have water?

But then I figured it out. Fish swim in water, so I got fish. (Yummy crispy outside, tender white inside, and delishioso tartar sauce.)

I didn't get a picture of the fish fillets, but the next day the universe made the traffic light turn green which was the signal to go back to the diner and get their tuna salad.

(Pictured above... more fish, see?)

So, are you a fish eater?

What would you order at the Black Bear Diner?

Funny Food

Have you ever heard of a mountain of potatoes? (What's up with the sky-high potato pile? Wasn't there a bigger bowl in the back of the cupboard somewhere?)

How about an Easter Egg hunt? (The problem is, it wasn't Easter, and I was in no mood for hunting. I'd thought the chickens were duds, roosters in drag, until we found a stash of eggs in their secret hiding place. Of course the lovely nest boxes with straw weren't good enough.) Unsure of how old each egg was, we ended up feeding them to the dog. She approved of every single one.

Then there's the popcorn game. It's where you pick up a single kernel of popcorn and decide what it looks like before eating. Very entertaining, and low calorie, too, since it takes so long to eat a bowl of popcorn this way!

And we can't forget the happy hotcakes! (Except that the bear seems to be feeling more neutral. While gazing at this picture, I must ask myself, is it truly appetizing to chew on what appear to be bear's lips?)

Some of these foods may tempt you, some may turn off your appetite. The simple truth is that people like to eat different things, and people like to read different things. That's why we have different authors and styles of writing, so that the whole world can be happy.

What do you like to write? What do you like to read?

Cow Pie Pancakes

As I was sitting at the table eating raw vegetables, my stomach complained that those green and leafy things surely weren't the only thing I was going to give it, were they? My stomach added that there was some pancake mix in the kitchen, and pancakes were so gooood. Then my stomach teamed up with my mouth and I heard myself ask my 14-year-old son, "Will you please cook me some pancakes?"
"Sure," he said, and walked into the kitchen. That's when I should have been suspicious. He protesteth not enough.
He came back in the dining room stirring a bowl of pancake mix with a fork. Then, looking in the bowl, he said, "Ew, what is that? Oh, well, I just stirred it in. I'm sure it's fine." Then he went back in the kitchen and I soon smelled the delicious aroma of browning pancakes. A minute later, he brought me a plate with his hand cupped around the edge. "Now, don't panic," he said. "This is supposed to be Mickey Mouse, but his brains squished out when I turned him over." Well, I could eat a mutated Mickey Mouse, and I did, and my stomach cheered.
Then my son brought me a glass of milk, only it was strange because there was a blob of bright red color spreading through the white. "Sorry, but this is the only milk we had," he explained. "George the Farmer was milking the cow when the cow stepped on his hand. George's finger popped off and flew into the milk bucket. Now his finger is in your glass, so when you drink it, leave a little on the bottom to preserve the finger so we can take it to the hospital when you're through and sew it back onto poor George."
After hearing that story, I couldn't make myself drink the milk, even though somewhere in my heart I hoped it was just red food coloring.
Then Brian brought out another plate with his hand cupped around the edge. "I made a culinary masterpiece," he announced solemnly. "I hope you enjoy it." Then he set the plate down with a flourish and announced, "Cow pie pancakes." Four pancakes of varying diameters stared up at me from the plate. They were stacked with the largest on the bottom and the smallest on the top, and by gum, it did look like a cow patty that some bovine had casually dropped in the corral. But I ate it anyway. After all, I couldn't let a masterpiece go to waste.