Meat, Meat, Meat
The freezer is full. I'm not talking full as in "there's still room to put a loaf of bread". I'm talking, "I hope the door closes" full.
As per usual, the side of beef was ordered, butchered, and this year it was even delivered. I split the cow with my buddy Mike, and he made the long drive through the South towns, picked it up and dropped it right at my door. The price was a little shocking as we each got more of the cow. We used to split it three ways with Jeff. Heavy sadness unloading, but Jeff was watching me load the freezer from his spot high above me.
"I don't know if we can eat all of this," I said as I took tray after tray of T-bones, cubed steaks and hamburger off of Mike's truck.
"Dude, who you kidding?" Mike asked. "You'll eat about thirty pounds of it tonight."
It's great to have friends who speak so nicely to me. (Jeff would've said the same thing).
We don't have thirty pounds out for dinner, but it's close. You see, my boys like steak as much as I do, and thankfully they don't need it cooked until all the juice is gone. I have yet to make Jake a steak he couldn't finish. He's a good candidate to eat a 72-ouncer somewhere down the line.
Yet the prospect of a great dinner isn't what has me thoroughly excited. It's the full freezer that is doing it for me.
When we were growing up our parents had the freezer chock full. I swear visiting the basement was like going to a grocery store -and its still that way although just Mom and Dad are sharing the big house.
Anyway, its comforting to know that should the shit really hit the fan it would take me about nine months to go through the food we have stockpiled.
I feel sorry for the vegans out there - they'll never know how good it feels to have a freezer full of the finest cuts of meat.
And it's mine! All mine!
Except for the fact that there are three growing boys here who will do their very best to empty that freezer in record time.
There's one other problem.
"I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today," just kept running through my mind.
As per usual, the side of beef was ordered, butchered, and this year it was even delivered. I split the cow with my buddy Mike, and he made the long drive through the South towns, picked it up and dropped it right at my door. The price was a little shocking as we each got more of the cow. We used to split it three ways with Jeff. Heavy sadness unloading, but Jeff was watching me load the freezer from his spot high above me.
"I don't know if we can eat all of this," I said as I took tray after tray of T-bones, cubed steaks and hamburger off of Mike's truck.
"Dude, who you kidding?" Mike asked. "You'll eat about thirty pounds of it tonight."
It's great to have friends who speak so nicely to me. (Jeff would've said the same thing).
We don't have thirty pounds out for dinner, but it's close. You see, my boys like steak as much as I do, and thankfully they don't need it cooked until all the juice is gone. I have yet to make Jake a steak he couldn't finish. He's a good candidate to eat a 72-ouncer somewhere down the line.
Yet the prospect of a great dinner isn't what has me thoroughly excited. It's the full freezer that is doing it for me.
When we were growing up our parents had the freezer chock full. I swear visiting the basement was like going to a grocery store -and its still that way although just Mom and Dad are sharing the big house.
Anyway, its comforting to know that should the shit really hit the fan it would take me about nine months to go through the food we have stockpiled.
I feel sorry for the vegans out there - they'll never know how good it feels to have a freezer full of the finest cuts of meat.
And it's mine! All mine!
Except for the fact that there are three growing boys here who will do their very best to empty that freezer in record time.
There's one other problem.
"I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today," just kept running through my mind.
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