This is a picture of something that has always been one of my favorite additions to peanut butter on toast: apple butter. We used to have it as a kid and I had not eaten any for years. Until last week visiting with my daughter, Lafawnda Fossil.
Apple butter, besides its great taste, was also the source of one of the handiest sayings offered for assessment of a significant portion of humanity. Out here is California and most of the country, the phrase is, “These people don’t know s#@! from Shinola!” In case you haven’t figured it out, the s#@! is my way of ever-so-deftly referring to a vulgar term for … well, you know. If you don’t, send me a stamped, self-addressed envelope and I will let you in on it.
This past week, I was on emergency call, but otherwise vacationing. Well, my daughter’s computer decided to die, so we had to go out and get her a new laptop. My daughter also needed a plane ticket to come back for the memorial service for my father-in-law.
Fortunately, one company TOTALLY screwed up a transition to a new data import structure and threw the switch on the new structure 10 days early. We were left with a mess. When informed, they decided to switch back, but it took several phone calls and finally they pulled it off. It also meant fixing up the mess they created in the meantime. Long story short, these guys ended up paying for Lafawnda’s new laptop AND her plane ticket last week.
So, back to the original topic. As we used to say in Kansas when I was growing up, “These guys don’t know s#@! from apple butter!” For that, I am thankful.