Shrove Tuesday

As a born and raised protestant in a fairly “heavy” part of the country, I don’t really have carnival traditions, nor knew about Shrove Tuesday until Sandra introduced me to it. Making pancakes that day was an old family tradition of hers, something her father did and she did as well, if she remembered in time. And as with most of her cooking, her pancakes, especially the light crepe like ones we ate with a bit of sugar and lemon, were wonderful. So much better than anything I could make that I didn’t bother to even try, but rather heated up some store bought poffertjes in the oven, the sad single man’s best alternative…

Not feeling too wonderful anyway, as my brain seems intent to slowly leak out of my nose and eyes: either I got someone’s cold, something Cronenbergian is going on in my skulll or hayfever season has started even earlier than normal. All in all I feel like death warmed over, poffertjes the most substantial thing I felt like eating.

Not to end on a bummer, here’s George Benson with Breezin’:



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