Leftover cabbage and potatoes, fried together in a pan. One of my favorite things. Smells as good as it sounds, like brewing coffee or frying bacon.
In this case, we are considering it as a metaphor for decisions which loom over the proceedings like so many gargoyles.
“The last rookie on the roster sat alone in his room. There was a knock at the door.”
With apologies to Fredric Brown. There are spots still to fill and eyes still to be opened.
Here’s Cub Tracks News and Notes.