Once You Go Crock...

...you never go bock. Silly, I know, but I had to write that to Riley after he convinced me of the wonders of a crock pot. Who knew? My mother never had one. (But my mother actually never really cared about anything to do with the kitchen--like feeding her children. To her credit, she did have a long hallway of double-door closets with the most fabulous dresses any boy could try on.)

So, I bought a huge crock pot and decided to buy a stand for it because I have way to many things on the counters. But, before the stand arrived, I sampled the most delicious chicken breasts and vegetables ever, and I emailed Riley that this creation was in need of something more worthy than a metroshelf stand. Having a few unused pedastals WAS one thing my mother found the time to teach, if not feed, me; and I had one, complete with silver dinner bell. Thanks, Riley; the next time someone calls you "a crock" I thank them for you.