Those of us who were raised in what some call the good old days (now that they are looking BACK on them) find it hard to throw anything away. This is especially true for the cooks. A small helping left in the casserole dish could be someone's lunch someday.
But someday never comes and the dish gets pushed further and further back into the refrigerator until it finally is discovered with the addition of green hair.
Bakery goods that look so appealing in the store are not always consumed while they still have appeal. That has been no problem in our household recently because we always have young great-grandchildren begging for pieces of bread to feed the fish off our dock.
The heels that get squashed down into the bread wrapper do not add to the joy of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, so they remain in the bag until the next visit from a young relative.
However last week when we were in Joplin I wanted to try one of the expensive breads sold at the famous bread company where we also ate our lunch. I thought it would make a wonderful addition to some meager meals.
However I seemed to be the only one who really enjoyed the taste. Marilyn preferred the ordinary white bread and Lester admitted that he really didn't care for it very much. To make matters more complicated I lost a filling from a tooth and was having trouble biting through the hard crusts on the bread.
As days went by, the crusts became harder and harder, and the insides looked less and less inviting. I felt it was too extravagant to throw that expensive type of bread out for the fish, but I knew I wasn't going to get it eaten by any human.
Today I was up early and stepped outside to enjoy the cool morning. I noticed fish coming to the surface of the pond after insects and decided this was a good time to get rid of my mistake.
I didn't want to take time to cut the bread into pieces (which was pretty hard to do by now) because I wanted to get this done without others seeing my wastefulness. So I took the third of a loaf of this hard bread and threw it way out into the pond. I watched for it to gradually sink into the water where fish could dine on it without fear.
However the bread became its own little boat and bobbed around on the surface until a large turtle came to investigate. It was not able to get a mouthful of the bread even after several attempts, but his efforts started the actions that brought the floating staff of life nearer to the shore. Of course it was the shore right in front of our house.
Other turtles were attracted and seemed to be working together to control the treat. They were able to get the nutty pieces off the top of the crust but could not get inside. They also left to look elsewhere for breakfast.
About a half hour later the starchy little boat lodged against the shore where it remained. The tiny minnows in that area immediately crowded around it and attacked it in unison. I couldn't see if they were successful or not, but several minutes later they were still surrounding the loaf.
So far no one in the house has discovered how I remedied my poor purchase. For me it has given new meaning to the term, "Cast your bread upon the waters".