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Show it. We have a few left-over cans of celery soup in the cellar which we keep loaded for when the Indians attack again. Some of these are getting pretty bulgey and may pop any day. Probably there are enough chunks of whole celery to put in a pan and heat and call it braised celery and she will be so proud. I will pout. BUT NOW COMES the really tough part. Imported Belgian carrots. How much does it cost to phone Brussels and order two carrots? Too much, I guess maybe. Maybe a Salt Lakedelly store would have some? Can you buy them in cans? MLF solves the problem. She opens a can of carrots and slaps 'em on the plate. "The Pilgrim Fathers brought the first carrots to America," she mutters. "Maybe that was several sev-eral carrot generations ago, but at least their forefathers were imported. Now eat your Imported Import-ed Belgian Carrots and be skinny like me." What can I do? And finally " baked apple in cider and coffee. This should go fairly easy. If we don't happen to have cider we can squeeze an apple, if there's one left after the baking. And I can take my coffee or leave it. MLF has been giving hie sanka and I can't tell the difference. Maybe if she'd serve me this complete menu just once she'd realize it was a little too much bother, along with making our living, and let me go back tc raiding the garbage can. Or happy day. Mac. " NOW'THEY'VE JUST gone too daggone far with this cholesterol choles-terol business. Somebody with letters after his name is trying to starve us all to death. I won't have it! The latest? Imagine! Two eggs a week. If you eat more than two eggs a week you'll drop dead. If you go without eggs, I suppose, you can spend 20 years in the rest home instead in-stead of ten. Why, I grew up and became strong and healthy and smart and virile and handsome on about three eggs a day. (There were a few periods when, if the hens hadn't stayed busy, the Mc-Nawgy Mc-Nawgy kids would have settled for canned hominy only.) Now I eat about 10 eggs a week and I've been 10 pounds overweight for 30 years without change and I'm not about to settle down to two eggs a week. MY LADY FAIR Louise has joined the Bad Guys. She watches my diet to stay away from that dirty word cholesterol. choles-terol. She weighs 101 pounds after a big dinner and I guess she wants me to join the group. Do you know what she does? She cuts that juicy, delicious fat, that most succulent, desirable portion, off the edge of the meat and throws it in the garbage pail. Often I am able to rescue it from the garbage and slurp it down. Gotta be sneaky , though. Do we have fried potatoes? On the 27th of July only. Do I get chocolate pie? Only when the neighbors throw some out. Do I get cream on my cereal? Only what's left on top of the skim milk. And do I lose any weight? No. One of these days I'm gonna insist that she follow the diet recently published by AP, which is strictly for heart specialists: Chilled apricot nectar, baked filet of Boston cod, with lemon sauce, braised celery, imported import-ed Belgian carrots, baked apple in cider, and coffee. SO SHE WILL bring me some juice off the canned apricots and say here's your nectar, Buster, and I will say why isn't it chilled? This stuff will kill me. She will open another can of sardines, sop off all the oil, put some flour in a squirt of lemon pop, and say Here, O Master, is your baked filet of Boston cod with lemon sauce and I will say O Kid, you've worked like a slave, you shouldn't have done |