What a name. Don't even have to think about what that might entail. I mean...just say it...W A T T L E. You can see the shaking quivering bag of flesh without knowing what the definition is. I keep thinking of my arms. and my Grandmas arms...sigh. That isn't nice but I do think of her arms. She had big arms and they were soft and a little bit...well...shaky...wiggly you might say. But all the better to hug you and make you homemade bread and stir the soup pot with and who cares about a little wattle anyways...!

Labels: 3 axe handles and a shoebox wide, Fat, food, memories