Yesterday was the Father's Day Picnic at the local Fire Hall, it is a fundraiser. This was the 33rd year, it is a roast pork dinner with all the fixings, buns, potato salad, hotdishes ( a mixture of meat, a starch and usually a vegetable in a sauce or a can of soup). I never eat potluck hotdishes as I am allergic to so many foods. In other parts of the country this is probably called a casserole..but in Minnesota it is a hotdish! There was none of Vi's homemade sauerkraut, she is probably saving it for her grand-kids. Dessert was pie, I had pumpkin..I noticed that there was less homemade pie and more store bought pie..the young gals don't have the time or the know how to made pies from scratch. The old gals that knew how to make a good pie crust have all died, or are so old that they have forgotten how to make them.
People come from far and wide for this picnic. Elvis lives in town (Ponsford), he showed up to play for the people..and to open his guitar case..you can't blame him for trying. I heard he had been in some kind of trouble the night before, probably too much shaking going on.
Elvis performing.....
Far Guys cousins got a big charge out of it and wanted their photo taken with Elvis. He can play the guitar..singing..well not so much.. he would get the big buzzers on America's Got Talent.
Far Guy always manages to yank my chain. Years ago and before I went out with Far Guy, I had an admirer who I will call Bernard. He wanted to be my boy friend so badly..I had to break his heart by refusing to go out with him. I am sure as a small child his coke bottle glasses were continually smeared with snot. I could rarely look at him without having that exact thought. Yeeew. Far Guy figured that he should point me out to Bernard..just incase I changed so much in 45 years that I was unrecognizable. I on the other hand, liked my anonymity. I did hear that there was a Mrs. Bernard and a little Bernard..so I believe that he successfully got over my refusal to date him:)
I was expecting to see what Bernard looked like. Far Guy is funny. Sounds like a great time. Elvis - well he looks out of place. Have a good day.
ReplyDeleteI think every area has an Elvis or two. Sometimes it is sad that there are Elvises that don't know they are Elvis and don't play the guitar and sing. But I guess everyone has their favorite decade to get stuck in.
ReplyDeletePie. I'm waiting for the cherry season to begin, heck I'm waiting for our strawberry season to begin, but we don't make much pie with strawberries. The cream pie season seems to have run its course around here and we need an infusion of a little sumpin' else. I would have thought that the land of hot dish would never run out of pie makers. I know my girls are a rarity here on the coast but I figured that else where... My mom was a hot dish woman.
I was thinking Elvis was going to be a dog, and sure enough... :-) (now that wasn't kind, but I couldn't resist!)
ReplyDeleteOkay - - if that Elvis had died his mustache, it would have been easier to cope with. Hotdishes - - casseroles - - - they all always have too many calories and cholesterol but some of them are delicious!
ReplyDeleteEww Boy..a little rough. Not my type of Elvis. I much prefer little Elvis to this one.
ReplyDeleteDo you think Bernard would have noticed if you went up and snapped a few pics. Elvis has changed a lot since he has been dead. I like seeing all those guys out there trying to be him. We have an older couple down the street who still wears his hair in an Elvis comb out, and he ones a old pink Cadillac with wings.
ReplyDeleteI hope you guys had lots of laughs and fun.
ReplyDeletePatsy
Whew - what an Elvis! Hope it was fun! I slept ALL afternoon after company left!!!! Who was your Bernard beau?
ReplyDeleteHa ha! Love the story of Bernard... and wow - Elvis! Very cool...
ReplyDeleteLove the post....Was hoping for a picture of Bernard...I can't get enough of this blog!!!
ReplyDeleteI went to school with a guy of whom I was reminded by your story of Bernard. I saw him at a class reunion, and he was hot. And a dentist.
ReplyDelete