Gravy and how I learned the hard way

I think this was the best picture I could get, the camera went dead after only two pictures. Ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans and salad. It tasted better than it looks. Something about the process of food photography makes everything look like doodie.

No recipe, but hang in there with me, I do have a story to go with this. The story is all about the gravy. Back in the day, when Mr. and I first met, I was all of 13 years old. First time ever to eat dinner with his family and horrors upon horrors, they were having deer! I was from the city, he lived on 40 acres of farm. They grew their own veggies, had chickens, cows, pigs and the like and they killed....oh, yes they did. It no longer bothers me, but at the time it was all I could do to hold it together, the smell of the beast was wafting through the kitchen like tear gas, making my eyes water and the bile rise.  I was in the kitchen with my not yet future Mother in Law, trying to keep the gag reflex under control. What to do? Do something quick to get my mind off what was in the oven. I ask not yet future MIL, "May I help with something?" of course I am thinking make salad, set the table, you know, something simple. Oh, was I surprised, she looked at me in all seriousness and says "You can make the gravy!" The most uncomfortable feeling in the world. I was 13 for crying out loud! She was serious. Well, I died a thousand deaths as I stood there, looking like that poor deer right before he took the bullet. The humiliation was unbearable, then it changed to disbelief. Who in their right mind asks anyone, let alone a 13 year old to make gravy! Well, people who live in the country do, that's who. Because of this unfortunate traumatic event I had gravy phobia for many years, but here is the proof, I finally conquered the beast.