Saturday, March 16, 2013

Typhoid Mary comes home

Things took a nasty turn during my trip.  I caught a bad cold which pretty much spoiled the adventure aspect of being in Texas.  It was all I could do to sit through the last days of meetings.  The plane trip home was dreadful, not that it was the airline’s fault, but more the humiliating situation of being Typhoid Mary sitting between innocent victims.  I doped up very well with over-the-counter drugs but couldn’t stop coughing.  On the first and longest leg of the trip home (I was in the middle seat, of course), I thought I was going to vomit.  I held barf bag ready while knowing people on both sides of me were praying as hard as me that I didn’t have to use it.  I would have climbed out and tried to make it to the toilet but by the time it became critical, I was so dizzy and disoriented that I wasn’t sure I could even stand up.  Finally, it all passed and I dropped back to sleep.  By the time I got home, I dragged my stuff into the house, put on my pajamas, and went straight to bed.  

So after a good 16 straight hours of sleep, I woke up this morning feeling much better.  Someone and I went shopping for a new microwave and lawn mower.  We brought the lawn mower home but the microwave had to be ordered to get the desired color.  We should have it April 1st, which is a very long time to wait...but so it goes.  It's a small town here and there aren't a lot of places to shop.  I bought one that is a microwave with convection cooking capability.  Totally cool.  Someone has suffered with no working microwave in the house.  Pity to be so dependent on such a contraption for cooking food...especially with a stove conveniently sitting right there in the same room, and a gas grill on the deck outside.  The girls and I have offered to teach him how to heat up food in a skillet or pan, or to use the oven or grill, but he has no desire to learn.  

My girls know how to cook and bake, and that’s a good thing for them.   I had done little more than very basic cooking by the time I left home.  My grandmother didn’t like me to be in the kitchen when she was cooking, so I didn’t learn much about cooking from her.  She cooked and I always cleaned the kitchen afterwards.   It was terribly unfair that my brothers never had to clean house or do dishes.  My grandmother insisted they would have wives to do that for them whereas I might as well get used to it, because taking care of a man and kids would be my primary role in life.  She was somewhat correct.  If I weren’t a tightwad, I’d hire somebody to clean house for me.  Nobody besides me cares that our house is less than immaculate.  I’ve reduced standards over the years.  We’ll just live like pigs until I get caught up with things...ever how many years that takes. 

learning to cook

By the way, both my brothers are bachelors and have to cook and clean for themselves.  Like Someone, they depend on microwavable pre-packaged food and take out.  In my opinion, cooking in its most basic form is a skill, and in its refined glory, an art.  It’s not rocket science.  Anyone can teach himself to cook if he really wants to learn.  Maybe the truth is that most men are too lazy to learn or to execute on what they know about cooking (oh....did I just man-bash again)?????

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