Midwest Tour--Evening 12

When we returned from the excursion to Carlyle, Dad set up to have one of his famous fish fries. I sliced some potatoes for homemade chips, for they are truly the only ones worth the greasy calories, and some French fries for Bradford, because he needed to taste what real fries are supposed to taste like. (I'm not a fry or chip lover, but a few like these are wonderful very occasionally. Try them dipped in mustard. Dijon is best.) The fish was wonderful as always. We'll be ready for more in several years.