Tall Tales from Kansas

My name is Carol. I live in Kansas. I write about stuff that happens to me as I walk through the world. Most of it is true.

recent posts

  • all things are relative

    The Huff + 1 lunch club met at Pigwich in the city market area in KC this week. Listen, this is a serious eating establishment, and is not the place to come if you are expecting a ladies lunch. We had the pulled pork sandwich, a pork meatball bahn mi, and a cornflake fried chicken sandwich, plus an order of the sweet potato fries. We put it all in the middle of the table and attacked it like a pack of wild dogs.

    We did an excellent job cleaning our plates. Many napkins were used. You have GOT to GET the sweet potato fries with the spicy aioli on the side. One order is plenty for the whole family. Warning – the bahn mi sandwich is spicy. We love to laugh at Nancy when she eats hot foot and goes into full on “head sweat” mode. This is only because we love her.

    Marti has a nagging chronic cough. She says she has investigated this and it may mean that “my days are numbered“. Always these comments are made with a slightly hopeful note in her voice. She laments that her brain does not work the way it used to. It continues to work better than mine, but all things are relative. She continues to teach us, we continue to laugh, we take it one day at a time.

    While in the vicinity a quick stop was made at Hammerpress. A fabulous local letterpress store. I had to replenish my supply of postcards – I have taken to sending them instead of emails to Tracy Mann, Roger Marshall, and Jerry Moran – my Kansas representatives in Congress. I think you will agree I found some good ones.

    I keep them on my table, addressed, stamped, and ready to go. When I reach a place of maximal irritation, I write out a message and send them. It’s highly therapeutic for me.

  • my basket of goodness for this week

    This was my first stop at the market this past Saturday. More local strawberries. As Dad would say “you gotta get ’em while the gettin’s good”. And I did. And they were. Very good.

    Look at these lovely poppies that Moon on the Meadow also had for sale.

    Below is a helpful grower assisting this fellow in his quest to get exactly the kind of kale he wants/needs for whatever it is he is planning to do with it.

    You know I am a sucker for a good sign.

    This is the bouquet I selected. Ack! so wonderful. Kind of a cross between an old fashioned rose and a poppy. I know that is not accurate but it’s where my mind goes.

    Another good sign below. Here is the story that goes with it. The winner of a silent auction package got to choose a cake for the Chonky Eats baker to make. From their website he reports… “this is an old Great Depression era concept that traditionally uses a can of tomato soup” but instead he subbed local tomatoes that he canned plus a dash of local tomato wine (? never heard of tomato wine in my life). Again from the website “the acidity from the tomatoes helps activate the leavening and enriches the flavor and color of the cocoa”. I LOVE the name he gave it. They also are featuring a browned butter snickerdoodle this year. It’s insanely good, softer, more flavorful, deeply satisfying. It’s on my list to repeat (every week).

    I got a bag of tender salad mix from here… and then I saw a very dense loaf of dark bread – she called it “Norwegian Rye” I think. I don’t care what the name is – a thick slice, toasted, and spread with peanut butter alongside those local strawberries with yogurt and chopped hazelnuts is a breakfast of champions. I had it on both Saturday and Sunday to be sure my taste buds were tasting what they thought they were.

    This intrepid adventurer was busy looking for something needed on her scavenger hunt list. I loved the dinosaur. He was helping her look. Or so she said.

    These 2 gals in their skirts and jackets helped me pick out the best succulents on the table. They will go in a pot on my back deck.

    Here is my basket of goodness for this week. I am working next weekend and then off to France so will miss the next 3 markets. I hope I survive.

  • how our stories can define us

    The True True Story of Raja the Gullible (nd his mother) is the tale of a 63 year old Lebanese man living with his mom in Beirut. It starts in 2023 but moves back and forth in time to provide context for all the things happening in the present.

    As an adult, Raja is a teacher and his students love him. He speaks of them in that dismissive way that one does when not wanting to admit the extent of how much you care. His mother is always getting him to tell her things about his students and actually gets to know many of them. He lives in a small community where everyone knows everyone and their business.

    There is much I did not know about Beirut and the things the people there have endured (corrupt politicians, a banking crisis, an immense explosion in the Beirut harbor). Raja goes through many difficulties as the story unfolds. The dialogue is snappy and it took me awhile to get used to that. Raja is a quirky character that grows on you. He is not predictable. He is not someone who forgives or turns the other cheek. The novel, in the end is a story about how our stories can define us. BUT we have the ability to influence our stories through our decisions. I have provided a link below to an interview with the author that I thoroughly enjoyed. I had not heard of this author previously. Will read him again. Thanks for the heads up about it Sharron.

    https://centerforfiction.org/videos/rabih-alameddine-on-the-true-true-story-of-raja-the-gullible-and-his-mother-with-john-freeman/

  • the best of seasonal eating

    It was a wee bit chilly on Saturday morning at the market. A perfect day to grab a slightly toasted bagel with a schmear of your favorite cream cheese, then take a bite and let the the inside sort of ooze out the sides as you roll it around in your mouth and consider that you might just be the luckiest person on earth at this exact moment.

    The succulents are back! I am waiting one more week to start the process of filling up a pot on the back deck. I did not winter any over this year. Starting from scratch. Buying whatever strikes my fancy.

    I did not get a shot of the local strawberries all lined up in perfect rows at Moon on the Meadow’s booth. I was too busy having an interaction with the fellow who told me he was going to get the box I snatched, to which I replied in my best cowardly lion voice “I’ll fight you standing on one leg, I’ll fight you with one hand tied behind my back” – he responded with a perfectly whistled rendition of “If I only had a brain”. Then we both stopped, laughed out loud, and agreed that we had just had a moment! This is what I mean when I say my people are at the market.

    The walking breakfast exemplified by these two.

    The morning sun on the asparagus was just right as I walked by this selection.

    A perfectly, perfect, very earnest rendition of a great folk song that for the life of me I can not recall now… lesson to self about making a note when I hear it. Trust me, it was good.

    In addition to a slice of brown butter banana bread cake, I had to try the butter cake from Chonky Eats this week. It’s 7 nights between markets… I didn’t want to get caught short on the selection of the after dinner sweet.

    Here is my haul for the week. Those fresh asparagus were tender, flavorful, and an example of the best of seasonal eating.

  • allowing me to enjoy them from a new angle

    These tulips from the first farmers market last week deserve a post dedicated entirely to their sublimeness, with a nod of gratitude to local growers. These are from Cook’s Market in Lawrence. They are my “go to” at the beginning of the market season for this very reason.

    Even as the days progressed, I found them to be perfect. I loved how they all bowed down but remained intact, allowing me to enjoy them from a new angle.

    I did not plan this table runner flower combo, but it’s a good one.

  • it’s a worthy battle

    Today it’s all about the average, everyday, normal, small, rudimentary aspects of life that happen. Don’t worry, I am leaving all the unmentionable ones out.

    When I got these daffodils recently, I knew they were on their last legs, but still… I brought them home. For the 48 hours they were on the table, they were just lovely.

    My breakfast the other day. I don’t know why I feel compelled sometimes to take a picture like this, but it was 100% delicious. Raise your hand if you are always thinking of ways to increase the fiber in your diet. So much out there about protein, so much less about fiber.

    I am coming to the last page of my everyday journal. I do not have a schedule for when I write, sometimes I will do everyday for a few days, then go a week or two or three without writing. I always enjoy it. Something about smooth high quality paper, a nice writing implement, ink on the page. Sharron, I will need another Las Palmalitas avocado sticker for the front of my new journal.

    A brief look inside, a little of this, a little of that. Things that seem really trivial, things I worry about, stuff I am reading, good quotes I have heard, a drawing or 2, some photos, torn up images out of magazines, you get the idea. It’s a hodgepodge.

    I think I have settled on this book to turn into my travel journal/sketchbook for Paris.

    It lays flat, has a sturdy cover, and I can use it for writing as well as a bit of sketching, painting, collage… I think it will work. Going to experiment with some different paints, markers, pens, inside to make sure the paper will hold up ok and not a lot of bleed through with my favorite markers. I have been saying I am going to try it out for a few weeks. That means the day before I leave for Paris I may do it.

    Because among all the commonplace parts of life, there are also those we would rather not deal with, let me mention just one more thing. The battle between myself and the bindweed has begun. It is always a series of skirmishes as the season progresses. This enemy can not be completely eradicated, just kept at bay through regular weeding. It is a worthy battle, if a disagreeable one. If only all such obnoxious, offensive, disturbing things could simply be pulled out by the roots.

  • … giving the reader the feeling that he knows what he is writing about

    I recently finished listening to The River is Waiting by Wally Lamb. It’s been on my list for a bit and when it came up on my Libby app I settled in. Insert big, deep sigh here – let me just tell you the first part of it is hard. The writer is setting things up and you know something bad is going to happen. You can feel it so exquisitely you just want it to get over so you can get past that and on to what comes next.

    The main character, Corby Ledbetter, is a troubled man. The loss of his job sends him on a path of making bad choices as he tries to get himself together. He has much to live for – a wife he deeply loves and twin toddlers he adores.

    I am going to leave it at that. The bulk of the story is the consequences of a tragic accident that sends Corby to prison and trying to figure out how he can come back from it all. Corby struggles with guilt, grief, fear, and underneath it all a hope beyond all hopes that he can get through this. It had (and still has) me thinking about the terrible problems with our criminal justice system and “correctional” facilities. Wally Lamb handles all of this with sensitivity, giving the reader the feeling he knows what he is writing about.

    I have previously read She’s come Undone, I Know this Much is True, and The Hour I First Believed – all by Wally Lamb. The River is Waiting ranks right up there with them. Highly Recommended.

    P.S. I have taken to searching out author interviews about the books they write when I finish a read. It’s my form of a book club, and I love that it helps me think about books more deeply. I enjoyed the Writers on Writing podcast discussion with Wally Lamb from June 16th 2025 that covers this novel.

  • You and all your baked good relatives

    Hang on to your hat, bear with me, and feel free to scroll as quickly as you need to. Today was the first day of the Lawrence Farmers Market, I may have taken more photos than necessary. I couldn’t help it, I was excited. I got there in time to hear them ring the bell to open the market at 7:30am.

    The couple above, he in spam hat, she in orange, looked as happy as I felt to be there.

    More happy market goers. Love their smiles.

    If you want get your vegetable garden started, they had what you need. If you are like me and have been biding your time for local flowers… oh they had those as well. Tulips or ranunculus and those were just the ones I got photos of.

    I know I am biased, but gosh I was glad to see Thuy from Liquid Garden, I have been needing to get some of her juice and protein balls.

    I want to learn to bake with millet flour. There is a spot in LA that I love to go to that has millet toast. It is the BEST. Research to be done and of course a conversation with the vendor to get recommendations. Do any of you use it? If so, do tell.

    Oh hello Pina Colada cake. How I have missed you and all your baked good relatives.

    They won the award for best transporting of produce in bags AND coolest glasses.

    Here is what came home with me today. It was so lovely to see my people and be out on a Saturday morning in my town. The feeling of community is unmatched. Something we all need right now.

    P.S. my tulips are “Columbus” according to the very friendly grower from Cooks Market who is always extremely patient with my questions.

  • before she heads out into the great beyond

    On my recent trek through the Baker Wetlands I was delighted to see all the WATER! The area above has been dry for months and months. It is absolutely amazing how this water makes the wetlands so much more alive. The sounds of the frogs and whatever else (other than birds) they were harmonizing with was just amazing.

    This was a nice cool morning. I questioned by outfit when I saw someone in shorts and a tank top, but was quite glad of my sweatshirt, especially in the shady areas along the tree line.

    Soon these trees will be all leafed out. For now it is nice to peek through them and catch that view of the river that I hadn’t noticed before.

    Beautiful cattails. I love all the varieties of textures at the wetlands.

    The ducks were racing along. Fingers crossed for more rain this spring.

    I just finished a gardening session. Grasses cut down, weeds pulled, bushes trimmed, pots on the porch moved around, sweeping accomplished. Then I sat in my chair and surveyed it all. Oh how I do love to sit on the porch.

    P.S. We had a Huff+1 lunch meeting the other day. I did not get a photo so I am going to take the liberty of posting an older photo of the Huff girls – from Nancy’s daughters wedding, maybe 7-8 years ago. Nancy will tell me if that is not correct. I simply love the sheer joy on all of their faces.

    At our lunch this week, Marti told me she was in “phase 5”. When I asked if she meant “as in 5 of 5”, she said yes. Then she told me about her latest idea – she is working on something that will automatically cause her arm to raise and her to utter “thank you” when people walk by her in her casket and say something about “how natural she looks”. Oh we had a great big laugh over that. She is in consultation with a patent attorney in case she gets all the kinks worked out before she heads out into the great beyond.

    P.P.S. In the event that I have not said it lately – Marti Huff is a treasure – on so many levels.

  • you do not have to be great at something to get intense satisfaction from doing it

    Because it would not be spring without a pot of pansies, I present my selection from the nursery last week. I used to share an office with Barb, whose mom (Ginger) would call us every year when it was time to get “the pansies”. This was more than 20 years ago, and Ginger is in charge of pansies in the after-life now, but I still get a huge smile on my face and think about how much we enjoyed that call every spring. Such a simple thing. But it’s deeply embedded in my memory banks. Every year now, I share a photo of my pansies with Barb and we continue to remember together.

    On the bedside reading front, I have finished 84, Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff. It’s told in the form of an exchange of letters over the course of many years between a writer and a used book seller. Nothing like The Correspondent, but a lovely read all the same.

    An oxalis is also a spring requirement here at Tall Tales Headquarters. The last several years I have had green ones but was lucky to find this delightful shade of burgundy. When the weather warms it will go on the porch, for now it lives on the dining room table. It is very hard not to load up the cart at the nursery with all the flowers beginning to be available for planting. We have the possibility of a hard frost for another month at least, typically anyway. No need to jump the gun.

    In preparation for our trip to Paris in May, I am needing to exercise my painting/drawing/sketching muscles. You gotta start somewhere, and before you get there is best. I’ve said it once, I will say it again, you do NOT have to be great at something to get intense satisfaction from doing it.

    Do tell what spring activities you are up to. I am going to go and change the sheets on the bed now, then catch up on some newspaper reading, then I am going to roast some mushrooms for salads this week, and finally I may go shopping for some fresh “spring” candles. Happy NO KINGS day to each of you.