Yes, I am going to add my own edition to Jennee's "Betty Files". I have to agree with Jennee that Betty does give lots of blogging material!
First of all, I must say that Betty is a dear friend, and I love her. However, when I first met Betty, I would actually get a headache during every visit. She talks non-stop for one thing, and would, apparently, just start rambling on about something that made no sense--as if she just pulled it out of the air. I was always in a state of confusion (more so than usual), and could never follow what the heck she was talking about. Then, one day, I realized that I knew exactly what she was talking about. That day caused me great concern!
I discovered that Betty's topics of conversation are 90% about the past, and if you are around her long enough, you will eventually hear each story approximately 999,000 times! (This is part of what causes Jennee's frustrations--she has not heard, nor does she want to hear, each story 999,000 times!)
So, here is my story:
Betty thinks that I am the greatest thing since sliced bread. Martha Stewart could not come close to carrying my briefcase. I disagree with Betty's opinion, but there it is.
I have recently started making sour-dough pancakes. And, here I must pause to admit that they are without a doubt, the best pancakes I have ever made. I have never made a bad batch, and that surprises me every time. Betty loves pancakes and considers herself an expert in everything about pancakes. I made her some pancakes on her last visit, and she absolutely LOVED them! When Betty LOVES something, she raves continually about it, and that is what she did.
"Oh my gosh, those are the best pancakes I've ever tasted! You made those? You really made those? Oh, they are just perfect. I need that recipe. *Could I write down that recipe?" Blah, blah, blah, more adoration about my pancakes.
Of course, the obvious next step is to open a little restaurant. "Just make pancakes, and serve it with a little fruit, fresh fruit! People would come, I know it! Jennee could waitress and make good tips. I'm not just whistling Dixie. You should do this. Really. It would go."
I reply with, "Betty, that takes money, we don't have any--"
"Get investors! I could find some for you. I know people! Just start someplace small, two or three tables. You wouldn't even have to be there all day. Get someone else to mix them up for you. People would be lined up breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They are so good, people would even eat them for dinner. I could be the hostess--I'd bring 'em in off the street! You could make a sign (she sweeps her arm as a banner) The Best Pancakes in Town", she laughs as she reconsiders, "in the whole damn town!" (she has a bit of a dirty mouth), "Come and taste the goodness!" "I'm not just whistling Dixie, you could do this. Just find a little place downtown, there's enough empty places down there, just let me do the talking, I could get you a good price. And, don't give that recipe to *ANYBODY!"
She picks up the current issue of "Better Homes and Gardens", looks at the cover of the cookies. "Those cookies don't even look that good. They look dry and tasteless. (I disagree and thought about making them.) She throws the magazine on the table. "You could make something that looks better than that. They should put your pancakes on the cover."
The conversation goes on and on, and is repeated several times. (We have a ways to go to reach 999,000 times on this subject.)
So here is what makes the story really funny. I told her last night that I would make pancakes for her for breakfast. It's a two-step process, and I did step one last night, while having a repeat of the conversation you just read about.
This morning, when she wandered into the kitchen, I was sitting at the computer. She said, "I'm going to have my cereal for breakfast."
I reminded her, "Betty, I'm making pancakes for breakfast." "Oh, you are? Well, how about if we have them for lunch or supper? I was really just wanting my cereal."
"That's OK", I said, "this makes a big batch, so I fry some up whenever you want them."
So, Jennee and I ate a plate of pancakes, while Betty ate a bowl of cereal.