white trash picnic

Sometimes when the girls get together, we like to let it all hang out and celebrate our southern-ness. Honey, we get down on the ground and roll around in it. Every once in a while we throw coronary health and all common damn sense to the wind and have what we fondly refer to as a "White Trash Ho-Down." No mens allowed. Yes, I meant to say "mens." These usually come on the heels of a loss or a triumph or some other life-changing event in one of our lives that requires--no--demands, observation and embracing and thereby, healing, by the girls. Here is part of the spread from the most recent bacchanal which was a celebration of my mid-life crisis.

The menu, left to right, then 'round the clock: what is left of a plate of Laura's deep-fried Twinkies. Of course, we ate those first (note the pretty table decor: a mousetrap), mashed potatoes made with plenty of buttermilk, lime Jell-O mold made with 7-Up and little tiny marshmallows, corn bread made with creamed corn and bacon, loaf of Wonder Bread, macaroni and cheese with hot dogs all cut up in it, collard greens, fried chicken, my famous sheet cake that I make entirely out of Moon Pies, (in the center) pimento cheese spread, bologna, olive loaf, Velveeta (all goes on the Wonder Bread, of course, honey!). And there is plenty of whipped cream, because, you know, you can never have too much of that and it goes with everything.

Beverages: RC Cola, Miller and Schlitz Malt Liquor--all bottles, no cans. Oh, Lord. Wish you could have been there.