Expert on the etiquette of perilous times.
1. I am really into soups right now.
2. I am also craving pineapple – have been for weeks. Pineapple drinks, pies, cakes, cupcakes – anything sounds delicious. I don’t know if it is the enzyme I want, but this need must be satisfied.
3. I am ALWAYS into chocolate in small, quite moderate amounts, of course.
Yesterday Lydia and I were a flurry of cookery. As I was pulling things out to make dinner she asked how old she would need to be to take a cooking class. I told her there were classes for all ages but I didn’t think she needed to take one and offered to teach her. Last spring we had begun her culinary education but with the addition of all her other schooling it had fallen by the wayside. She was very excited to resume her learning. Together we made a potato and sausage stew that the family loves. She cut the sausages, browned the onions and did most of the stirring. It was great to have her help and her company.
While we made the soup I baked some chicken that was marinating from the day before and made rice to serve with it. Assembled, the dish was a little disappointing, but I put it in the fridge and figured I would be able to spice it up today.
The stew was quite good and Lydia happily ate a bowl for lunch and then dinner. All of the children were going to Paul’s mom’s for a sleep over as we had tickets for a concert of an award winning choir.
Just as the choir was walking out I realized that I had forgotten to refrigerate the soup. I whispered this to Paul.
“That would be a serious drag if all that went to waste especially before I got a chance at it. Did you turn off the burner?”
I thought for a moment. “I don’t know…I think so…but I know I left the soup out.”
Further conversation was not possible. I thought about the burner. It hadn’t been a concern until Paul said something. I figured it was probably fine, and yet…I comforted myself with the thought that the alarm goes if I think about burning toast so it wouldn’t be long before the fire department was there and maybe just maybe they would break down the front door (hideous beyond belief) to get to the fire, enabling us to claim a new one on our insurance. With that happy thought I turned my attention to the concert.
When we got home that night there were no traces of fire but the sad pot of soup was on the stove – uncovered even. I couldn’t bear to throw it out, covered it and threw it in the fridge.
The sum total of yesterday’s exertions were: a once tasty stew now harboring unknown diseases and a dish that somehow managed to be bland and repellently lemony at the same time.
This afternoon I contemplated the chicken and rice. What could be done? I couldn’t bear to serve it but didn’t have any idea on how to spice it up without making it worse. Fortunately I remembered a “Thai-ish” soup I absolutely love. I took out the chicken and rice added chicken broth, coconut milk, tumeric and a little bit of peanut butter and now have a delicious soup.
Isn’t that a happy ending to such a sad tale?
“I have a dweam…I have a dweam.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“It’s about kids walking in my live.”
The sun is shining.
Cookies are baking in the oven.
The children are frolicking around the house.
I can’t blog long because my colleagues and I are going sledding as soon as the current batch of cookies comes out. I just wanted to take the time to tell you we are doing great today. I know I have been making it sound like I am running a juvenile/American version of Cold Comfort Farm over here and that a lot of my posts could be boiled down to: “I saw something nasty in the woodshed!” (And yes, Baby, it did see me.)
We have had our moments today when one of my colleagues would grab the wheel and start making for the rocks and then I would remember that I am captain of this ship, take it back and move us into safer waters.
This is us sailing.
Our eyes meet and I smile then cross the room to throw myself into his arms. He pulls me to him and I stand on my toes to press my chest against his. I wrap my arms around his neck and lift my mouth to be kissed and to kiss him fully. Then I tuck my head under his chin and rest against him.
He bends his head and whispers tenderly in my ear, “You really need to brush your teeth. Your mouth smells so bad it is making my stomach hurt and I don’t want to throw up on your pretty head…”
And then my stomach starts to hurt from laughing.
After a while I go brush my teeth.