November 7, 2005
Eric came out this morning with some gas and tried to start the ‘49 Ford. Wouldn’t go. Turns out it’s probably the fuel pump. Back to square one.
My neighbor J.D. came by the office at about ten to set up an appointment to start the John Deere tractor. I checked my daytimer and we agreed to meet on Thursday morning at eight. J.D. now needs to go over to Joe’s house and confirm this. I am in charge of the invitations and I’m thinking of embroidered linen with little tractors in the corners. J.D. is bringing the snacks (homemade jerky). Joe is in charge of the party favors (WD-40). Attire is semi-formal (pin stripe overalls).
This just in from Britain:
"What the hell is a twice baked potato? Is it just a nice way of saying overcooked?"
.. "Better yet, why didn't they bake 'em correctly the first time?"
I admit twice baked potatoes is sort of a new deal for me. They started carrying twice baked potatoes in the meat department at Bashas’ grocery store where we shop and I’ve grown to really like them. So, to me they're a brand new thing, but I cornered Sheri at the copy machine just now and asked her if she knew how to make ‘em and here's her answer:
"Bake the potato, take it out of the oven and slit the top, scoop out the insides, mash them and mix it with milk, butter, salt and pepper. Then put the mashed innards back into the potato shell, sprinkle cheese on the top, put it back in the oven and bake it again, until the cheese melts. Take it out and put sour cream and onions on. Is it new? Heavens no. My grandmother made them in West Virginia when I was this high."
—Sheri Temen, Trading Post Assistant
"Happiness can be a garment made with little stitches."
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