On our recent trip to potential home sites, I developed an even higher level of appreciate for Mrs. Fly than before.  I've always loved Mrs. Fly, and I think we have an awesome marriage, but something happened in Florida where my feelings were taken to another level.  No... we did not do drugs, get a bedroom swing, etc.

We went to a restaurant.

A pretty well-known local restaurant at that called Barbara Jean's.  It's a Southern restaurant that has 4 locations and they ship their food all over the country.  She even has her own cookbook.  I knew the food line-up in northeastern Florida was going to be pretty weak, so I was really looking forward to eating at this place.  Good southern home cookin' probably eeks into my top 10 types of food I like to eat.  I mean c'mon!  How are you not going to like fried chicken or biscuits and gravy or pot roast or any of the other foods with a ton of oil, butter or animal fat?!?  Paula Deen looks the way she does for a reason... most of her recipes call for a stick of butter...  even the rice.

Anyway, we get to this Barbara Jean's place and find out they are well-know for their crab cakes and she-crab soup.  And that these items are shipped across the country.  Hey!  Bring it on!  To be fair, the crab cakes were okay - probably above average for a restaurant.  But not really the type of thing that I can imagine some dude paying to have shipped to his house.  The she-crab soup was just an unquestionable thumbs down.  It was like a congealed chowder that tasted like it had way too much heavy cream and mystery thickener in it.  Mrs. Fly had to stop eating after a few bites, so I pretty much at an entire bowl and most of her cup of the soup.  I have no idea why I ate everything.  Obviously, one of the reasons I'm fat is that I just keep eating, even when something is obviously meh. I think it was from growing up poor - you just don't want to see food go to waste.  Needless to say, we both got the runs afterwards.  Mine worse than hers LDO.  My pot roast was average to slightly above average.  Nowhere near as flavorful and sophisticated as Mrs. Fly's.  And G's chicken fingers were like some freezer-burned concoction of shredded cardboard and chicken essence that was without a doubt the worst chicken I've ever seen on a kid's meal.  Anyway, it should be no surprise that northern Florida got crossed off the "must live" list pretty quickly.

WHAT'S FOR APPETIZERS?

I gave Mrs. Fly the morning off today so I watched the kids.  I was feeling a little tired afterwards so I took a much-need nap.  When I got up, Mrs. Fly figures out I'm hungry and makes me this shrimp cocktail.  I guess it's more like shrimp cocktailS, since it's almost an entire school of shrimp.  But hey!  I'm a big guy!  All I can eat, baby!

(well technically, I could probably eat like 3 lbs pretty easily, but this was enough to keep me going until dinner)  Oink oink.