Peanuts. I’ve always loved them. I like most kinds of nuts, and most kinds of peanuts, but really none more than these pictured here. Grown in Swaziland, and roasted by Hansen women in kitchens around the world (including in Swaziland). The recipe is secret, so there’ll be no instructions here. Suffice it to say that they delight most people who try them, making jars of them excellent gifts too. I have given many people peanuts. In fact, I am the peanut queen.
The first time I discovered a writhing worm in a handful I was busy chomping my way through, I stopped eating them for about a year, but then I forgave them. Yesterday I discovered one of the bags of the raw nuts was the source of what I will call a maggot infestation in the top part of our kitchen cupboard. The brave man who came and helped me to remove them will say that “infestation” is an exaggeration. But when you hate writhing worms as much as I do, anything more than one is an infestation, because the very sight of them infects my brain and makes my stomach churn. Anyway, maybe not legion, but they were definitely more than one.
I cannot forgive my beloved peanuts twice. It is the end of an era and I am dethroned. I will observe a moment of silence before I apply my mind to what I can eat instead.
(While I do that, and to end on a more pleasant note, you can admire this beautiful birthday cake I am proud to say I helped to manufacture, and which was a feature of what was, indeed, a fabulous garden party: