Inside the cafe, along the outside walls, had I been much over six feet, I would have had to duck, but toward the inside of the cafe, , behind which was apparently the kitchen, the height of the ceiling approached eight feet, but not quite. There were plenty of tables, a salad bar, and on one end of the room a fireplace. There was only one other customer at this fairly early hour, but it was dark out and the restaurant was warm enough that I could remove my jacket.
My meal was brought. I dug in, but I looked up at the other customer and asked how it was. She smiled. "I should have also ordered the fried." We started talking across our tables and how I had become addicted to it and how she liked it, too. We ate our meals, but at one point, after we had visited for a little while and given the usual elevator summaries of who we were, Pat decided to join me at my table.
Pat Matthes is a Librarian at the Mississippi State University Libraries and works with Collection Development Services. That department orders books, newspapers, and journals in print and electronic formats. Access is provided to these materials via an online catalog. Pat has lived in Columbus since 1964 when her father was stationed at Columbus Air Force Base. Her family is from Booneville, Mississippi. She graduated from Caledonia High School and from the Mississippi University for Women (right here in Columbus) with a BS in Library Science. She got her MLS from the University of Alabama. She's both a strong Mississippi State Bulldog fan and Roll Tide Alabama fan.
Maybe this week or next I'll venture farther afield and head over to Starkville to a place(s) Pat knows there. We both agree that the chain restaurants are convenient and some of them good, but nothing beats the locally owned cafes in these small Mississippi towns.
|Ellie is sacked out on|
Mae's nice soft tummy.
My twin girls are now the ripe old age of one year old. And while they probably think they know all there is to know, I'd say they got surprises ahead of them. I now call them my little yearlings, or stout farm girls, or little squirts, depending on just what they're up to.