I didn't think I'd be blogging this week, but frankly, I'm bored out here. My kids are out building a fort and my husband is...no surprise here...on his BlackBerry. We are spending the holidays with my parents in Southampton, NY. I can hear hunters shooting ducks nearby, but that's about it for action. Our house is near the Peconic Bay, north (a.k.a. the wrong side) of the highway. I like our area--it's a little more rural, a little less posh than our ocean-side neighbors.
My mom's friend came over yesterday, bearing a pot of pig's feet. You heard me--pig's feet. Want some? Both she and my dad were raised on farms where the motto apparently was Don't Waste No Matter How Gross. So she had him in mind when she cooked up the feet. She threatened to bring chitlins as well, (which are, as I understand it, fried pieces of chopped pig intestine) but she must have changed her mind.
I haven't yet tried the feet. Not sure I will.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not making fun of her. She's actually someone I most admire because of her outlook on life despite her difficult upbringing. She was raised in the deep South (she's African-American) and had a tough childhood. But she managed to raise five kids by herself and every one of them are successful. Besides that, she's fun to be around and my parents adore her.
Perhaps people sitting around shootin' ducks and eatin' feet doesn't fit your mental image of the fabulous Hamptons, but there you have it.
Hope your Thanksgiving was wonderful.