Victuals

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We made a day trip yesterday, Sparks and Mimi and I, to the nearest IKEA for some fun then to a meat locker to stock up on what Sparks enjoyed calling “victuals”. Pronounced “vittles”. We bought our yearly supply of ground beef, ground pork, bacon, and porterhouse steaks. The farmer who raised Stewie and Chuck has gotten out of that business, but we think that the general produce from the meat locker is the same high quality. It’s all local, small-batch stuff. The cows don’t come off of feed lots and their meat is dark, almost purple, with a strong flavor that grocery store beef doesn’t have. The bacon–oh my. This is a completely different, errr, animal from grocery store bacon. This will whip up your frontier spirit.

We live in Illinois. Along the way, we passed an area where swathes of trees had been broken in half or ripped up by the roots. No need to ask how that happened. A whole town just a few miles from us was flattened by the storms this weekend. It’s what everyone is talking about, at the post office, at the grocery store, at the gas station. The same storm that flattened the nearby town was just beginning to rotate as it passed over us, and we got five minutes of crazy rain, nothing else. Their turn now, maybe our turn later. Sic transit gloria mundi.

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