“I’d thought so. Has she said anything about tonight’s fare?” “Creamed chicken livers with a side of sauerkraut.” I could feel my mouth purse. “Maybe I can talk her into a bowl of soup.” Ruthie said, “Uh, no. She’s made a pot of what’s called—I kid you not—Butchering Celebration Soup, along with a roast pork that’s baked with the fat from the pig’s abdominal cavity.” “I think I’ll wait and have a sandwich when I get home.” “I would if I were you. I ate before I came,” Ruthie said.
