Saturday, June 16, 2012

Amen, Zac Brown

I, too, "like my chicken fried."

Not just any chicken either.  Forget that Kentucky Fried stuff.  Ugh.  For me, it's got to be really, really good.  Worth the ensuing 'I've-been-a-baaad-dog' nutritional guilt... that kind of good.

Regardless of race or denomination, fried chicken graces many a dinner table after church on Sundays.  Piled high on Grandma's blue willow platter and placed lovingly next to the ham biscuits, it's a key part of the comfort meal following a Southern funeral.  When it's especially good bird, I'm half tempted to ask the bereavement committee ladies, "um, who made the chicken... and do you think she'd share the recipe?"  Thankfully, I've stopped short of that faux pas.  Thus far.

You see, I'm not a woman to be wooed by jewelry, flowers or chocolates.  Oh no.  I prefer real estate, stocks and chicken fried.  With a crock of their homemade mashed potatoes and gravy, Lee's in Kilmarnock just may be my kryptonite.  I'm wise enough to generously share what's on my plate, to cut those hefty calories.

Sweet hubby knows his wifey.  After work tonight, he wooed me with a simple, "honey, you want to go to Lee's?"  Faster than a dog ready for a walk, I was heading for the door.  We rolled out, unaware of the heavy traffic that awaited us on Rt. 17.  Or the single lane delays on Rt. 3 over the Piankatank River bridge.  No matter, we were Northern Neck bound and that's always a good thing in our book.

After dinner and still swooning with fried chicken bliss, we leisurely made our way down the road to Irvington.  Perfect evening for a drive.  Deer grazed in the fields as fireflies made their nightly appearance.  Saw hydrangea bushes the size of a Volkswagen.   The grapevines at the Dog and Oyster Vineyard were filling in nicely.  Trick Dog Cafe looked to have a good crowd tonight.  Always happy to see local businesses succeed, given how many shuttered storefronts now display 'for lease' signs in their windows.

Barely opened the car door before Maddie raced out to swim in Carters Creek at dusk.  She didn't wait 30 minutes after eating her Lee's leftovers, but it didn't seem to matter much.

Sitting at the end of the dock enjoying the view, I remain in agreement with Zac Brown, "there's no dollar sign on a peace of mind, this I've come to know."  Amen, Zac.  Amen.

But my ankles sure could use a tan.  Guess a girl can't have it all...

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