A major casualty of the kitchen remodel has been outerwear. I ruined several of my own coats barbecuing, because apparently I cannot barbecuing without leaning against the grill and singeing the front of my coat. Tonight I was wearing one of M’s coat. He doesn’t know it yet because he is not around, when he returns from his journeys, he will learn that the cute coat I bought him for Hanukkah also has a hole in the front of it. Because, barbecued broccoli…
They say the cabinetry is arriving tomorrow. They say it will take a week to install, and then at some not too distant date, we will also have appliances and even counters. They say this just a matter of time before I will not have to ruin my coat by grilling broccoli in 25° weather.
They also say that we are no longer allowed to use our master bathtub, because at some point (also in the not too distant future) our entire master bathroom will leak into the kitchen, or worse. (Right now only one of the shower heads leaks into the kitchen.) Master bathroom activities have therefore been suspended.
I am certain of this: One way or another, the kitchen will be done this year even though the ground floor of my house currently looks like this.Among other 2019 resolutions I may or may not keep, I hereby resolve to be neither negative nor anxious about the kitchen situation.
M resolved to declutter his side of the closet. As I’ve explained before, after a long battle with sentimentality and clutter, I was pretty much Marie Kondo before Marie Kondo and have been culling and purging for years. M, on the other hand, likes to wear T-shirt’s from the Clinton era – and I’m not talking about the fantasy alternate universe in my head.
Yesterday he went through the closet and proudly presented me with this: (Oh, in case you were wondering, that thing on top is apparently a beer horn. It appeared in the house recently, courtesy of M, and did not qualify for the purge. It is going in the basement in something we like to call the Costume Box.)
He was feeling quite pleased with himself until he asked me for some help picking out a shirt to wear and I discovered THIS. That’s right, three heaving bags of giveaway and THIS beauty made the cut. If you can tell me how much this vintage tee from a 2013 New Orleans Coupon Convention will fetch me on the open market, I’ll send you the shirt.
In the meantime, happy 2019 everyone. May all your projects be completed and may you all rid yourself of all types of unhelpful baggage, coupon convention shirts included.
Yesterday, before leaving for the day, I put a turkey roast and vegetables in the outdoor crockpot. Feeling especially smug, I even got busy with the (indoor) rice cooker.A couple of hours later, from about five miles away, I couldn’t remember if I’d turned the crockpot on. (More than once I’ve come home, expecting to be greeted by the aromas of slow cooking, only to find a crockpot of raw food.)
I text a friend, S., who lives nearby, and on her way out, she checked the pot: all systems go.
Three hours later, worried about over-cooking, I texted another friend and neighbor, R., and asked her to run over and flip the roast.
I was feeling pretty good about things when the roast was cooked to perfection at 6. I felt less good when my 16 year old ate half the roast before anyone sat down to dinner and I had to order Chinese.
Oh, and it seems I forgot to turn the rice cooker on.
Sometimes you really can’t win.