Last week an old friend invited meto a Pampered Chef party that
she was having in her new home.
Some women love that stuff.
It's like buying jewelry-
or shoes.
But other than the slight thought
of helping her meet her discount quota,
I had no desire whatsoever to attend.
Being surrounded by foreign
chopping, cutting, mixing
and blending objects
just seemed a little too much
like a torture chamber.
My choice of tools in the kitchen
is a spoon.
Once in awhile- a dull knife.
For a gourmet meal,
sometimes I'll dust off the mixer.
But it takes a major life event
for me to dig way back into
the junk drawer for
my spatulas, choppers,
carving knives and pastry bags.
(Of course, the blender
is kept plugged in at all times
in case I feel a margarita coming on).
Call me simple.
Lazy.
Whatever.
But buying these cool kitchen gadgets
would be like going into a sporting goods
store and buying a bunch of
exercise equipment.
First off, I wouldn't know how to use them.
Second, they would take up valuable room.
Third, they would soon be forgotten about.
Fourthly- (is that a word?)-
I might actually hurt myself with them.
Time for psychoanalysis here:
I had a dream when I was about ten
that some freak was going around
killing innocent people with a
potato peeler.
I think that for the next few nights
I slept with the covers over my face
and the closet light on.
Could that explain my aversion
to kitchen gadgets?
Could that be the root of
my indifference towards
culinary devices-
my negativity for kitchen
thingamajigs,
gizmos
and contraptions?
More power to the woman
who is an artist in the kitchen.
I envy her in some sick way.
But, you know-
I've got my spoon.
And that's good enough for me.
****************************************
After that kitchen story,
I hope you're not eating
because this post to yesterday's blog
might cause you to throw up
in your mouth a little:
Guess what some people
are buying now?
Reusable Sanitary Pads!All I can say to that is:
Those people need to go
save their OWN planet-
wherever it may be!
