Post St. Patrick's Day Cabbage Math

After weeks of cold, rainy, gloomy weather reminiscent of Ireland, 3/17 was a sunny blessing. For me, no sun equals no sense of direction. JB points and says, "That's north." Nuh-huh, that's east. Nebraska's roads are generally square miles. Mississippi roads follow old Indian trails, creeks, and around stumps.

On the 17th, friends of JB's stopped by for a chat. Lawn chairs were pulled out and placed in the shade at the nose of the motorhome. They reminisced hunting and drag racing, while I pondered how to feed them with a single head of cabbage .

Hunger interrupted their tales; God knows they will never run out. Hilton said he had some fresh slab (2 lb.) crappie, hushpuppies and potatoes. Cecil had a fry daddy. Derek said coleslaw would taste good. I volunteered our cabbage. He offered tomatoes, onions and mayo. JB setup the table.

Cabbage + fish + friends = a tasty feast with leftovers.

©2009 Red Convertible Travel Series