Ah! A little appreciation! Mel Cooke, Freelance Writer AH! ONE peanut brittle makes my world! It's not just any old peanut brittle, from the factory to the store to the gut. It is my very own peanut brittle, brought to moi by my own wife, given to me by her own hands after a hard day of figuring what the heck to do with the house. Ah, the sweet, crunchy, sticky taste of appreciation, gone in two bites. But not forgotten, of course. It makes the mopping out a bit easier. Hey, she didn't forget me or take things for granted. Speaking of taking things for granted, housework sets a whole different standard for appreciation or the lack thereof. I'm pretty easy most of the time, if I may say so myself. But even if I don't show it I get really, really, really urinated when my work is undone by some careless, callous clod. Mopping Case in point. I clean the living room. I mean really clean it. I dust, I sweep, I mop, I pol... well, I would have polished if some had been there. Anyway, you get the point. Everything is in place. I even wipe the television screen. And then somebody leaves a cheese single wrapping in the armchair. Grrrrrrrrrrrrr! Grrrrrrrrrrr! Grrrrgrrrrrrr! I was all set to blow a little steam the other day. There I was, wiping out the front area, so that Mani Peenie could play without too much germs. So it's like counting rows of tiles one, two, three and keep backing up until the job is done. I got to row 13 or 14 and C comes in from work. She seems to be heading straight to the place I just, just wiped, which isn't even dry yet. I tighten my grip on the mop handle. She comes a little closer. I wipe that more deliberately slowly and 'strentily'. And still she comes. Clop, clop, go the shoes. Swip, swip goes the mop. Clop, swip, clop, swip, clop, swip-swip. And one last clop. "Hi honey, I'm walking around the back." Thanks for saving me alimony, baby. I think I have started to get the hang of this thing. The trick is not to do things consecutively, but to do them concurrently. My system of doing one thing, finishing it and then moving on to another always seems to leave just too few hours in the day. So, instead of doing breakfast and then ironing C's clothes for her to go off to work or the other way round I now do them both. How? Aha! First, set up the ironing board, plug in the iron and turn it on. Then go to the kitchen and get the hot water going. Then it's back to check on the iron (getting warm) and zoops back to the kitchen to get whatever the fare is on the fire (the water's getting warm), back to the ironing board and run over the first piece. Hang that up, blaze to the hearth, toss in the cooking stuff, pour the hot water on the mint leaves, iron the second piece and hang. Back in the kitchen the cooking stuff is ready to land and the tea has been drawn. Sweeten to taste, slap the eats in a plate and that's it. Darn, I'm good. Time saved about 10 minutes. Hey, if I used skates...hmmmm. But there is one very unfair thing that happens. The chef is not supposed to wash the dishes. But it seems to me more often than not. And the thing is my cooking style does not leave much to wash. And another thing. Why is the water bottle always nearly empty? Sometimes even really empty and with the dirty dishes? Can't y'all just fill it back up? Sheesh! Shopping I went shopping a couple days ago. That's a regular thing still. But I spent nearly $3,000 and I could hold all the stuff in one hand, with a finger for each 'scandal' bag. Is this how expensive food really is? Or is it just me? I knew what I wanted in my head. So how comes I came home with some tins of Supligen I had not intended to buy and without baking powder that I set out for to do the fry flour and callaloo special breakfast? And don't even talk about the $30 a finger plantain. But I'm getting better. However, I still can't match the queen of 'em all, Sister Juliet. Trust me, that lady is my 'hidol.' She could clean, wash, cook, take care of baby and still have time left over every day. Maybe we should give the ladies who run households the country to run. And the husbands too, naturally. Many women, few men. Seems just perfect to me. File
|
