Wednesday, March 21, 2007
And I made it out to the stoop!
Small victory: I make it out to the street, bumping down the stairs on my butt out to the stoop, and benchpressing my way back up, also on my butt, one step at a time. The Great White Russian cats freak out and hide under the bed as I galump my way down the hallway.
I wake up to burning desire to cook, which is tough. I've stayed away from boiling pasta; lifting a boiling pasta pot is tough on one leg. Also stupid. So what can I make? I have wonderful frozen wild blueberries. I will make blueberry crumble. But i have great apples - why not an apple pie as well? Why not do the crust from scratch? George had an annual Oatmeal Cookie Spasm a few weeks ago and bought a bag of flour - not yet in the flour container. Everything's there. Why not?
I assemble the ingredients, loading them all onto my lap at one time on the rolling chair from the cupboards and scooting them across the kitchen en masse to the counter, which is now at chin level. I work my way through the crust, the crumble topping for the blueberries, etc etc etc and run out of counter space, its such a big production, so i set the open flour bag onto the floor and keep working and hear a funny snuffling sound and Jaws, one of the Great Whites, had his whole head in the flour bag and evidently pressed his nose into the flour. He jerks out, covered with flour, making schooweezie sounds, and i dust off his face and look in the flour bag, and there's a perfect cat nose/face print in the pristine flour.
I changed plans and used a single frozen ready-made crust to make a kind of folded-over-broken leg apple pie. Blueberry crumble turned out well. George ate 80% of each masterpiece.
I'm going to have to send the cats to a cat shrink. Galumping in the hallway, and a sand-flour-trap in a bag.
I wake up to burning desire to cook, which is tough. I've stayed away from boiling pasta; lifting a boiling pasta pot is tough on one leg. Also stupid. So what can I make? I have wonderful frozen wild blueberries. I will make blueberry crumble. But i have great apples - why not an apple pie as well? Why not do the crust from scratch? George had an annual Oatmeal Cookie Spasm a few weeks ago and bought a bag of flour - not yet in the flour container. Everything's there. Why not?
I assemble the ingredients, loading them all onto my lap at one time on the rolling chair from the cupboards and scooting them across the kitchen en masse to the counter, which is now at chin level. I work my way through the crust, the crumble topping for the blueberries, etc etc etc and run out of counter space, its such a big production, so i set the open flour bag onto the floor and keep working and hear a funny snuffling sound and Jaws, one of the Great Whites, had his whole head in the flour bag and evidently pressed his nose into the flour. He jerks out, covered with flour, making schooweezie sounds, and i dust off his face and look in the flour bag, and there's a perfect cat nose/face print in the pristine flour.
I changed plans and used a single frozen ready-made crust to make a kind of folded-over-broken leg apple pie. Blueberry crumble turned out well. George ate 80% of each masterpiece.
I'm going to have to send the cats to a cat shrink. Galumping in the hallway, and a sand-flour-trap in a bag.
