Ham and Hams

I love books. I love reading. I love book club. I love my book club peeps and I’ll share with you why they’re so great.

Tuesday was supposed to be book club night but JC was feeling under the weather, MG was looking at a possible sudden-out-of-town business trip and CP was dragging after getting home very late the night before from driving back after being out of town herself for the weekend. The suggestion was made to postpone to the following week and all parties seemed to be in agreement that this would be the best solution. All parties except for the unnamed ham that was to be our dinner that evening while discussing the merits (or lack thereof, in one reader’s opinion) of Madame Bovary. Said ham became the topic of conversation in several emails and my primary source of entertainment for the day.

What follows are the edited transcripts of the emails pertaining to Sir Ham.

JC 11:32 a.m.
Well, the gigantic ham M is working on votes for tonight, but to be honest, I don't think it read the book.

M and I will just eat a remarkable amount of ham this week. There are worse fates.

MC 1:25 p.m.
p.s. The gentle sound you hear in the background is my ham weeping.

p.p.s. It's a tender squeaking sound, barely audible, but heart-wrenching. Poor ham - if only we can convince it that the love of myself and Joel is enough for it.

p.p.s.s. I need to quit sending e-mails when I have just gotten off work.

KA 2:38 p.m.
p.s.
Maybe if you consume the ham voraciously it will be properly assured of your love. Place it on a pedestal? Forgo side dishes?

MG 2:58 p.m.
p.s., We once had a turkey that seemed depressed and refused to turn golden brown, but he kept his reasons to himself. Your ham sounds much more communicative, which I think is a good sign. Maybe K is right -- a little special treatment may be just what he needs.

CP 4:25 p.m.
Soak it in whiskey. And it probably doesn't want to drink alone, so you'll have to shoulder that burden, too.