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Where’s the Beef? At Church

I was delighted to see Christ Episcopal Church’s Annual Roast Beef Dinner scheduled for last Saturday. Steven worked till six, and the dinner ran till seven. We would be fashionably late but not unreasonably so.

When Steven and I have someplace to go after he gets off work, I try to meet him outside the house. That way he doesn’t come inside, get Tabby all excited, then leave. It just seems a mean thing to do to a cute little dog. I mean, she is SO happy when we’re both home; I hate to see it come crashing down. I suppose I am getting sentimental in my old age or super-sensitive or something (we’ll call that my Monday Middle-aged Musing for the week).

It was cold on Saturday. I stood at the end of the driveway watching approaching headlights and cursing the ones that weren’t Steven. All I could think of was that Vicki Carr song: “It must be him! It must be him!” At last it was.

There were a few empty tables at the dinner, most of them dirty. A lady quickly cleaned one for us. I always observe that we get top notch service at these dinners.

I got roast beef and mashed potatoes, which I covered in gravy, but I declined the squash and peas. I love being an adult and not having to eat vegetables I don’t like. I know, the younger generation can’t really identify with that, because it has gone out of fashion to make kids clean their plates (oh, nobody needs to tell me why this is psychologically and nutritionally a good idea; I was just making an observation) (or was that another Middle-aged Musing?).

I saw one little boy mowing down a big plate covered with peas and nothing else. I was impressed.

The food was delicious, as you probably expected. I especially enjoyed the roll with real butter. For dessert I dithered for a while between cheesecake and a chocolate pudding cake. I finally decided on the cheesecake. Steven made it to the dessert table a few minutes after me (he took longer because he ate his vegetables). Guess which he picked. So I got to try them both.

While we ate we were highly entertained by the toddler son of a couple of parishioners. He was playing with a roll of tape about four or five inches in diameter. He would roll it down the floor and cheer about how far it went. I could go on for a bit about high tech toys all the kids seem to want, but let’s have no more Middle-aged Musings today.

Before we left we put in for the various items they were raffling: a poinsettia with scratch-off lottery tickets and a couple of stockings with goodies. We chatted with the lady at the table about donating the 50/50 back if we won, which we have known people to do. It did not arise Saturday, though, because we did not win.

That was really no matter. We had enjoyed an excellent dinner. I’ve never personally roasted a beef in my life. I may try. Or I may just wait for the next church dinner.

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