And speaking of pancakes (see yesterday's blog post below), Marash Girl still remembers Mrs. Evans, a neighbor on Lowell Avenue, Auntie Zabelle's knitting pal . . . Mrs. Evans telling the story about her young son, Burt, who loved to make pancakes on Sunday mornings. As Mrs. Evans told the story those many years ago, the Evanses took their children out for a pancake breakfast one Sunday morning, and Burt stopped eating after his first bite. "Something is wrong with these pancakes," he said; "they don't taste right!" Mrs. Evans couldn't stop laughing as she told us the problem. "The pancakes didn't taste right to Burt because they weren't burnt!"
Remember, 'if you eat burnt toast, you will find money'? I suspect that saying derived from before reliable toasters were on the market. Trying to toast bread over a fire, or coals virtually guarantees their being burnt. Ah, but did we find money! Did we ever!
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