The word that strikes fear in my heart

Forks
POTLUCK.

In the States, there is often a sign up sheet for bringing things.  I usually push and shove to the front of the crowd around the list so I can do plastic silverware, cups, paper plates, something like that.  A few years ago I went to a thing in the States where we were
supposed to bring the dish we’re famous for.  My first thought was "Big
Macs?" 

There are not one but two potlucks with the other expats here this Christmas-appetizers Christmas Eve, and lunch on Christmas.  Unfortunately, we don’t use disposable anything here, so I have to come up with something edible to bring.  Appetizers were pretty easy-a friend is bringing some special imported treats up from the capital for me to serve-grapes, apples, and Cheddar cheese with crackers.  Ok, not exciting to the folks at home, but thrilling to people who serve here!  For Christmas Day, I have another imported thing.  A box of instant mashed potatoes.  I seem to be the only one excited about that, though.  I’m going to bring drinks too-I think I can manage iced tea and use up the stock of Crystal Light that a friend left me this summer. 

Published by Nora McNamara

Lover of languages and linguistics. Besotted Auntie. Jesus follower. Sacred Harp singer.

2 thoughts on “The word that strikes fear in my heart

  1. The more you post, the more I think God used the “Nora Model” when he designed my personality! My potluck contributions are consistently prepackaged – chips, Entenmann’s donuts in a box, etc. If only I were a cook! I’d eat a lot less microwaved cheddarwurst… which would probably be a good thing, as far as my arteries are concerned…

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