levated her heels in the air
and stood stiff-kneed
while she touched the floor with her finger tips one hundred times
and
BUTTERED SIDE DOWN
98
went without her breakfast. At the end of each month she usually found
that she weighed three pounds more than she had the month before.
The folks at home never joked with Pearlie about her weight. Even
one's family has some respect for a life sorrow. Whenever Pearlie asked
that inevitable question of the fat woman: Am I as fat as she is?" her
mother always answered: "You
australian ugg! WellI should hope not
blue air jordan high heels! You're looking
real peaked latelyPearlie. And your blue skirt just ripples in the backit's
getting so big for you."
Of such blessed stuff are mothers made.
But if the gods had denied Pearlie all charms of face or formthey had
been decent enough to bestow on her one gift. Pearlie could cook like an
angel; nobetter than an angelfor no angel could be a really clever cook
and wear those flowing kimono-like sleeves. They'd get into the soup.
Pearlie could take a piece of rump and some suet and an onion and a cup
or so of waterand evolve a pot roast that you could cut with a fork. She
could turyilai:
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