Saturday morning, the boys headed to Iselton to pack 12 pounds of crawdads into a
Jimmy had been talking about a craw fish boil for weeks and we were very excited to be a part of it...
In true southern fashion, we hung on the driveway, watching the fish and corn boil and talked about summer's end and fish. I considered adopting a Georgian accent for the night, just to fit in with the party's theme, but didn't want to the weird one in the group. Which I most often am.
Those little suckers were chill and calm in their ice chest, but as they were being moved to the boiler, panic in their little community ensued...I thought they had quickly realized their fate, but then Jimmy told me that actually the ice had put them in a comatose state. Good to know. I quickly put the thought of squirming crustaceans out of my head and instead began dreaming of cocktail sauce...
The presentation of the feast really knocked my socks off: newspaper for a tablecloth, a roll of paper towels and one ginormous pile of southern boiled goodness...we quickly went to town. I was sure that we wouldn't even begin to make a dent in the pile of goodness...but the boys took it very seriously and soon the pile began to look a bit more like a scatter of goodness.
By the end of the night, our tummies were full and our fingers were sore from all that craw fish crackin'...
But our smiles were large...
Thanks to the Wedick's for a perfect Southern Saturday!
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