Of big black cast-iron frying pans, kitchen-heating stoves, mothers and muffins, husbands and sons . . .

This ‘n’ that

Inspired by recent mentions of cast-iron frying pans and oldfangled cook stoves, here’s The Gram With a Thousand Rules: (1) “I have been busy with tax preparation and plumbing problems these past few weeks. Now the taxes are filed, and the refunds should pay the plumbing bills, so I have time to focus on other, pleasanter things, like big black cast-iron frying pans.

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Three chocolate shakes on the passenger seat: What could possibly go wrong?

The best-laid plans

IGHGrampa reports: “Subject: What a mess!

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A funny thing happened on the way to the wedding (x 2) . . .

Our pets, ourselves
And: Accidents of mirth

DebK of Rosemount writes: “In the past month or so, our corner of Rice County has been the scene of rooftop activities not generally advised for 75-year-old pretend farmers. Taxman’s exertions have been calculated, I understand, to encourage calving of the ice dams that have formed at the intersections of the various rooflines on this old farmhouse.

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There was no chance they’d get tickets. And then: Do you believe in miracles? Yes!

Gee, our old La Salle ran great!
Or: Where we lived

Zoo Lou of St. Paul: “Back in the ’50s, when I was a runny-nosed little rink rat at East View playground who used Life magazines for shin guards and played with a stick held together by nails, I dreamed of going to the high-school hockey tournament.

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When “Field of Dreams” leaves you (still) cold, it’s time for “the heavy artillery”: Game 6, 1991!

Cabin Fever Chronicles (cont.)
Or: It happens every winter

Here, again, updating her recent report, is Ramblin’ Rose: “Addendum: We’re Talking Baseball.

“We thought that surviving the Polar Vortex meant the end of the worst part of winter, but this week’s 8-inch snowfall here on the East Side made it feel as if we would never see spring.

Continue reading “When “Field of Dreams” leaves you (still) cold, it’s time for “the heavy artillery”: Game 6, 1991!”