Rebecca Jarvis wanted to take home made chocolate chip cookies to her volleyball party.
She laid down for a nap this afternoon and when she woke up, she thought it was already the day after the party.
She self-corrected on that notion and came downstairs to make the cookies, but leaving the cooking close -- a couple of hours before her event was to begin.
Everything was going well. Well, perhaps maybe not that well. Catherine’s plastic 3-cup measuring cup has gone through the dishwasher so many times that the detergent has eaten away the red measuring lines on the cup. That is problematic for a new cook in the kitchen
And when measuring ½ a cup in a one cup metal container Rebecca and I had to figure out which ½ of the cup was the one we would really want to take. I thought what we really wanted was just a 1/2 cup measuring unit, but there was not one to be found.
At any rate, the butter and brown sugar got creamed, the flour and chocolate chips were added to the batter and we got the parchment paper on the cookie trays.
As she was working, Thomas came into the kitchen to make macaroni.
Catie arrived next to warm up last night’s birthday dinner.
Catherine hadn’t eaten all day and she put her Arctic char in the microwave.
Five adults now squeezed in the same kitchen, all on different food-making agendas.
Catherine was doing double duty with Hebe, giving her a bath and at the same time noticing that the water in the bathroom was backing up.
So she began to take out the drain and try to get the water running again, to no avail.
It was just one of those days when unplanned for events started piling up.
Rebecca and I were working on a tight schedule.
We baked the chocolate chip cookies and then put them outside to cool, one of us standing guard at the window so that the squirrels didn’t take them away, and the other one of us timing the batches of cookies still in the oven.
I was multi-tasking kitchen clean up as well, doing dishes at the same time and I wondered what the putrid burning smell was. I checked the cookies in the oven and all looked well. I wondered if the stove top had been turned on accidentally and nothing seemed to be wrong there. When Rebecca came back into the room I confirmed with her that something smelled like it was on fire. That is the moment when we noticed that instead of pressing the button on the microwave to start the timer, that the cook cycle was on instead.
When we opened the microwave, the top of the plastic food cover was melted and the size of the hole was about fist size. We could not tell what was on the plate under it, except that it was a blackened mess.
“Oh no, my mother’s Arctic char,” gasped Rebecca. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. And she hasn’t eaten all day.”
At the same moment, Eric called from work, for he was the recipient of the left-over food from an office party and needed a ride home.
As well, he was motion sick and hardly able to complete the day on his feet. The two of them decided to drop off the food at another Christmas party where he was to be Santa Claus but which he could now not attend because of the video he had watched had made him so sick he had to head for bed.
And when he came in the house to go to bed, the smell of the Arctic char, which I shall now call Arctic char-char, was not the most welcoming experience for him. Nor for the rest of us. Catherine and I took turns trying to return the house to a fresh air experience.
It is late evening now.
Just another happy Friday night for us at the Jarvis house, although the evening is not over. Catherine has gone out to shop for Draino, though her own plumber told her not to waste her money on that product -- just use plunger power.
So far, that hasn't worked.
Arta
She laid down for a nap this afternoon and when she woke up, she thought it was already the day after the party.
She self-corrected on that notion and came downstairs to make the cookies, but leaving the cooking close -- a couple of hours before her event was to begin.
Everything was going well. Well, perhaps maybe not that well. Catherine’s plastic 3-cup measuring cup has gone through the dishwasher so many times that the detergent has eaten away the red measuring lines on the cup. That is problematic for a new cook in the kitchen
And when measuring ½ a cup in a one cup metal container Rebecca and I had to figure out which ½ of the cup was the one we would really want to take. I thought what we really wanted was just a 1/2 cup measuring unit, but there was not one to be found.
 |
| We couldn't get this outside fast enough! |
As she was working, Thomas came into the kitchen to make macaroni.
Catie arrived next to warm up last night’s birthday dinner.
Catherine hadn’t eaten all day and she put her Arctic char in the microwave.
Five adults now squeezed in the same kitchen, all on different food-making agendas.
Catherine was doing double duty with Hebe, giving her a bath and at the same time noticing that the water in the bathroom was backing up.
So she began to take out the drain and try to get the water running again, to no avail.
It was just one of those days when unplanned for events started piling up.
 |
| I am still soaking the plate in our favourite cleaner, trying to save it, but I think it is headed for the recycling garbage. |
We baked the chocolate chip cookies and then put them outside to cool, one of us standing guard at the window so that the squirrels didn’t take them away, and the other one of us timing the batches of cookies still in the oven.
I was multi-tasking kitchen clean up as well, doing dishes at the same time and I wondered what the putrid burning smell was. I checked the cookies in the oven and all looked well. I wondered if the stove top had been turned on accidentally and nothing seemed to be wrong there. When Rebecca came back into the room I confirmed with her that something smelled like it was on fire. That is the moment when we noticed that instead of pressing the button on the microwave to start the timer, that the cook cycle was on instead.
When we opened the microwave, the top of the plastic food cover was melted and the size of the hole was about fist size. We could not tell what was on the plate under it, except that it was a blackened mess.
“Oh no, my mother’s Arctic char,” gasped Rebecca. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. And she hasn’t eaten all day.”
 |
| --now a flat plane of black bubbles --- |
As well, he was motion sick and hardly able to complete the day on his feet. The two of them decided to drop off the food at another Christmas party where he was to be Santa Claus but which he could now not attend because of the video he had watched had made him so sick he had to head for bed.
And when he came in the house to go to bed, the smell of the Arctic char, which I shall now call Arctic char-char, was not the most welcoming experience for him. Nor for the rest of us. Catherine and I took turns trying to return the house to a fresh air experience.
It is late evening now.
Just another happy Friday night for us at the Jarvis house, although the evening is not over. Catherine has gone out to shop for Draino, though her own plumber told her not to waste her money on that product -- just use plunger power.
So far, that hasn't worked.
Arta
Gratitude List:
ReplyDelete1. I have never been served Arctic Char Char.
2. I have never thrown up in a movie theatre from motion sickness.
3. I have never had to do Warm-Chocolate-Chip-Cookie Guard Duty against Enemy Squirrel.
hahahaha. this reminds me our our christmas trip to brussels where EVERYTHING went wrong. Ah... life... laugh or cry (or both)
ReplyDeleteWhen people say that something bad happens in threes, I think, "well, they aren't living my life". Multiples of threes is what happens, until as you say, everything goes wrong. Just everything.
ReplyDeleteRe your gratitude list, Bonnie -- so glad to bring happiness to others. Catherine was somewhat sad about the Arctic char, having eaten only half of it so she could save some for the next day.
ReplyDeleteWe have moved on, but still our lives are filled with surprises. Catherine tried to make pancakes for lunch today in the new mixer. On its first use for her, she didn't know that she should start the motor slowly, so she got the full body effect of flour and liquid from a fast start. We went to church an hour early to practise for the Christmas programme, and after the 3 hour block, we went over to the Metro to sing.
After five hours away from home a quick meal was in order. But she hadn't wanted half of the meal to be all over her clothes.