Summer eating for me as a child meant flicking canned peas from the macaroni salad into my lap, lowering my knees to drop the peas to the deck, where I could toe them through the cracks to the patio below.
And peanut butter books for the squirrels. Take a stiff piece of paper, about 3 x 6, fold it in half, use a pen to give it an eyecatching title such as Nut Tales, spread the inside with peanut butter and hold it out, silently, to a squirrel. Our midwestern squirrels were tamish, so they would snatch up a book quick as a wink, then perch and “read”, within plain sight. I tried it here once. Crazy city squirrels grabbed their books and raced up to the far reaches of the trees. Apparently urban squirrels prefer to read in seclusion.
“Would you like something to read?”
Dylan Thomas
No mention of peanut butter books on peanutbutterboy‘s blog although there is a very terrifying Baked Peanut Butter Corn Dog and other atrocities. One can assume it is very bad manners indeed to blogbash, particularly since I live in a glass house, being in love with the Hoctodog, a true sausage atrocity.
While I can get hot under the collar over a hotdog, I don’t feel strongly about peanut butter until it is gilding a banana. Under those circumstances….
Mais oui.
The Lunch Encounter 