Look it up in the dictionary. It no longer has my friend Helen’s photo by the description, it has mine. Oh, Helen’s well and good (maybe not good) but I’m graduating into her league.
Helen is a terrific writer, colleague and friend of the dog wars. We’ve had our moments but I cherish her friendship and she even stopped by last year for lunch.
I don’t suffer fools gladly. I’m not into pretense, no matter how many dollars are behind that fake smile. I’m a cook, not a chef. Friends need to be interesting, self-sufficient and kind.
When in doubt, I let my dog do the picking. If she likes someone, it’s a good person. If your dog is afraid of someone, there’s something really wrong with this picture. We once had a neighbor we called SK, for Serial Killer. He ran inside whenever we opened our door. We never met him, it was creepy.
I’ve an open mind to anyone, any thing (that’s within my boundaries and the law) but find myself having less time for people who are not interesting, self-sufficient or kind. Like people who only find fault with others or claw their way up the ladder by decimating their colleagues.
If that makes me a curmudgeon, so be it. Helen, will you let me into the club? You know my number. Dee
Cooking with Dee 