Good Morning Bathers of Oblation,
Given the tormented state I find myself I’ve begun performing little rituals that if someone in a public place should see they would surely think I was an idiot….. Shut up….you know what I mean. I’ve been lighting little fires in an old ash tray creating shadow puppets on the wall. The puppets in turn pray to God that zuki be delivered from the hell that is life’s rich pageant.
Sometimes it pays to remind oneself to be careful what one wishes for as it can easily lead to something unexpected or prepared for. My simple supplications could be interpreted as wishing to leave this rock, and I’m not quite ready. Looking back who’d have foreseen this tragic waste of talent? The list of mitigating circumstances responsible for my current situation continues to mount. What the flip happened? This wasn’t supposed to be my fate….yet here I am.
For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin–real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.– Alfred D. Souza
I recently purchased a Crock Pot because EVERYONE told me it’s impossible to screw up a meal prepared in this ceramic slow cooker. So following a recipe Cush gave me I carefully diced red potatoes, onions, celery, cucumbers, and a half pound of pork loin. I adlibbed by adding garlic and rotel tomatoes for a bit of spicy! Adding 2 cups of water I set the dial to ‘Low,’ covered the pot, and walked out the door knowing I’d have a hot delicious meal when I returned from Blondie’s.
After an exhilarating day at work, followed by an exhausting debate over “Trickle Down Economics” at ‘Curmudgeon Corner’ I was ready for my meal and stopped for a bottle of Pinot Noir.
The aroma permeated the hallway leading to my apartment and like Pavlov’s dog I began to salivate. I felt a bit smug knowing I was driving my neighbors crazy with envy. I rushed to the Crock Pot and removed the lid; everything looked fabulous! Spooning out a generous helping of stew into a bowl I put my nose to the rising steam and inhaled deeply….ahhhhh yessss! I poured a glass of wine and sat down relishing this watershed moment for this destroyer of meals!
It was obvious my good friend Cush had left out a crucial part of his Crock Pot gem! As I plowed into my first bite I immediately recoiled and spit it back into my bowl. The friggin potatoes were still raw! I was very disappointed and began cursing Cush, to the point of issuing a strongly worded text. I emptied my bowl back into the pot, added more water, and then set the dial to medium to see if it would cook the potatoes overnight.
The next morning the taters were still raw so I added more water and set the dial to ‘High’ and left for work hoping this would take care of the problem. Had Cush informed me to boil the potatoes prior to adding them…well….jeez.. you can figure it out. What a maroon!
By the time I returned from my ‘committee’ meeting, my Crock Pot dish had turned into an overcooked dried up pork hash resembling a gelatinous gob of goo with raw potatoes….fit only for the Irish. Jeez…