No Use Dying Over Spilled Milk by Tamar Myers Page B
Authors: Tamar Myers
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Mystery, Detective and Mystery Stories, Humour, Genre Fiction, Women Detectives, Crime Fiction, Pennsylvania, Cookery, recipes, Hotelkeepers, Cozy Mystery Series, Cookbook, Pennsylvania—Fiction, Mennonites—Fiction, Magdalena (Fictitious Character), Cookery - Pennsylvania, Mennonites, Magdalena (Fictitious Character) - Fiction, Amatuer Sleuth, Pennsylvania Dutch Country (Pa.), Hotelkeepers - Fiction, Amish Recipes, Yoder, Pennsylvania Dutch Country (Pa.) - Fiction, Amish Bed and Breakfast, Pennsylvania Dutch, Amish Mystery, Amish Cookbook, Amish Mystery Series, Women Detectives - Pennsylvania - Fiction
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I already have plans.”
“We do?” That was certainly news to me. I had purposely told Lizzie Troyer not to count on us for supper. While bread and fish might be sound Biblical fare, pies and cakes have their place too.
Susannah gave me what was supposed to be a meaningful look. Anyone else would likely have thought it gas. “Yes, we made plans earlier, remember?”
I didn’t. Undoubtedly Susannah had another date lined up with Danny Hem, but that didn’t mean I had to be stuck eating sardines in solid oil.
“Actually, dear, I remember no such thing,” I said. “However, if you have plans, feel free to run along. But leave me my car, of course.”
Even I began to wonder if Susannah had gas. Either that or had gotten something in her eye. I hadn’t seen a human face go through so many contortions since back in seventh grade when Ernie Hershberger replaced the lettuce in Lydia Kauffman’s BLT with poison ivy. The Pennsylvania DMV would have loved that.
“Are you all right, dear?” I asked kindly.
Susannah’s left eye gave a final twitch that would have dislodged her false eyelash had I given her time to apply it that day.
“We have plans, Mags. Thank you, Sarah, but we’ll have to take a rain check on that dinner.”
I could hardly believe my ears. Not only had Susannah displayed exceptional manners in thanking our cousin, but she actually wanted me to tag along with her someplace.
“Well, I guess we do have plans after all,”
I said. “You can at least stay for another cup of cocoa, can’t you?” our cousin coaxed.
We stayed and sipped the delightful brew while Sarah shaped the bread into loaves, put them into well-greased pans, and set them aside to rise.
“It’s a funny thing about Yost,” she said suddenly, “but he wasn’t himself the night before he died.”
I was all ears. “He wasn’t?”
Sarah didn’t seem to hear me at first. She wet some dishtowels, wrung all the water out, and then placed them lightly over the loaf pans before answering. “No, Yost was definitely not himself. I have known him my whole life, but he never acted like that before.”
“Acted like what?” Susannah asked. It surprised me that she’d even been listening.
“Ach, I have never seen such behavior. Even in springtime the animals don’t act like that.”
Susannah ignored my hand signals. “Like what?”
“Like he was crazy.” She lowered her voice and glanced at the windows, through which we could hear the distant voices of children. “Maybe possessed.”
Chapter Fifteen
My Mama’s Frankfurter Rafts
8 skinless frankfurters
Bacon grease
1 egg
2 tablespoons milk
1 teaspoon powdered onion
2 cups cold mashed potatoes
2 cups baked beans
1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
Salt and pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees and grease 8-inch-square glass baking dish.
Brown frankfurters in bacon grease. Set aside to cool. Beat egg with milk and onion powder. Thoroughly mix beaten egg mixture with mashed potatoes. Smooth mixture over bottom of baking dish. Cut cooled frankfurters into halves lengthwise. Cut again across the width. Arrange frankfurter slices over potatoes until covered. Spread baked beans over the frank slices. Sprinkle the grated cheese evenly over the surface of the beans.
Bake for 25 minutes or until heated through and the cheese is melted.
Serves four.
Chapter Sixteen
I was stunned. Mennonites and Amish don’t take possession lightly. We are forbidden Ouija boards and other types of entertainment that claim to make connection with the spirit world. Seance parlors and fortune-tellers are not even discussed, much less patronized. In a society without television, in which “new age” is what you become on your next birthday, the word “channel” is almost never used. Our faith is in God, and we look past the netherworld to the world to come. That is, the Kingdom of God.
Of course, the Bible is full of demons, as well as angels, so
“We do?” That was certainly news to me. I had purposely told Lizzie Troyer not to count on us for supper. While bread and fish might be sound Biblical fare, pies and cakes have their place too.
Susannah gave me what was supposed to be a meaningful look. Anyone else would likely have thought it gas. “Yes, we made plans earlier, remember?”
I didn’t. Undoubtedly Susannah had another date lined up with Danny Hem, but that didn’t mean I had to be stuck eating sardines in solid oil.
“Actually, dear, I remember no such thing,” I said. “However, if you have plans, feel free to run along. But leave me my car, of course.”
Even I began to wonder if Susannah had gas. Either that or had gotten something in her eye. I hadn’t seen a human face go through so many contortions since back in seventh grade when Ernie Hershberger replaced the lettuce in Lydia Kauffman’s BLT with poison ivy. The Pennsylvania DMV would have loved that.
“Are you all right, dear?” I asked kindly.
Susannah’s left eye gave a final twitch that would have dislodged her false eyelash had I given her time to apply it that day.
“We have plans, Mags. Thank you, Sarah, but we’ll have to take a rain check on that dinner.”
I could hardly believe my ears. Not only had Susannah displayed exceptional manners in thanking our cousin, but she actually wanted me to tag along with her someplace.
“Well, I guess we do have plans after all,”
I said. “You can at least stay for another cup of cocoa, can’t you?” our cousin coaxed.
We stayed and sipped the delightful brew while Sarah shaped the bread into loaves, put them into well-greased pans, and set them aside to rise.
“It’s a funny thing about Yost,” she said suddenly, “but he wasn’t himself the night before he died.”
I was all ears. “He wasn’t?”
Sarah didn’t seem to hear me at first. She wet some dishtowels, wrung all the water out, and then placed them lightly over the loaf pans before answering. “No, Yost was definitely not himself. I have known him my whole life, but he never acted like that before.”
“Acted like what?” Susannah asked. It surprised me that she’d even been listening.
“Ach, I have never seen such behavior. Even in springtime the animals don’t act like that.”
Susannah ignored my hand signals. “Like what?”
“Like he was crazy.” She lowered her voice and glanced at the windows, through which we could hear the distant voices of children. “Maybe possessed.”
Chapter Fifteen
My Mama’s Frankfurter Rafts
8 skinless frankfurters
Bacon grease
1 egg
2 tablespoons milk
1 teaspoon powdered onion
2 cups cold mashed potatoes
2 cups baked beans
1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
Salt and pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees and grease 8-inch-square glass baking dish.
Brown frankfurters in bacon grease. Set aside to cool. Beat egg with milk and onion powder. Thoroughly mix beaten egg mixture with mashed potatoes. Smooth mixture over bottom of baking dish. Cut cooled frankfurters into halves lengthwise. Cut again across the width. Arrange frankfurter slices over potatoes until covered. Spread baked beans over the frank slices. Sprinkle the grated cheese evenly over the surface of the beans.
Bake for 25 minutes or until heated through and the cheese is melted.
Serves four.
Chapter Sixteen
I was stunned. Mennonites and Amish don’t take possession lightly. We are forbidden Ouija boards and other types of entertainment that claim to make connection with the spirit world. Seance parlors and fortune-tellers are not even discussed, much less patronized. In a society without television, in which “new age” is what you become on your next birthday, the word “channel” is almost never used. Our faith is in God, and we look past the netherworld to the world to come. That is, the Kingdom of God.
Of course, the Bible is full of demons, as well as angels, so
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