(if you are viewing this via email, the website has a recording of this poem and commentary; click the title above)
Commentary
Hopefully I don’t need to comment on this one. Right?
I’ve participated in a pancake toss once or twice. It was at Family Camp at Horn Creek Ranch in Colorado. Out on the porch of the cafeteria, the chef stood behind a griddle scooping perfectly cooked pancakes and tossing them out to us campers. We were supposed to catch the pancakes on our paper plates. I think we were successful 80% of the time. But we laughed 100% of the time.
By the way…. Log Cabin is what I grew up putting on my mother’s perfect pancakes. It’s what I like. Susan’s folks were from New England, so maple syrup is the only reasonable topping to her way of thinking. Oh well… you can’t be right all the time.
(background image adapted from a photo by Яна Тикунова on Pixabay)
