When I cook

When I cook, there is a method. It’s a tried and true method and I refuse to deviate.

The 2 major points in this method of mine?

1. Clean as you go

2. Follow the recipe when using one

Now the kitchen, as I’ve said before is MINE! You MAY be able to use it on the odd occasion, if I’m feeling particulalry bevevolent, but you WILL ask permission BEFORE you even touch one little thing in MY kitchen.

Bodily harm may be the outcome whould you be foolhardy enough to even attempt using MY kitchen before asking, and in fact there are still a few missing bodies from those silly enough to think I wouldn’t know.

Yes people, I KNOW when someone has been using MY kitchen. I come close to measuring the difference between the salt and pepper grinders on the bench. Do you really think I’m NOT going to know?

So. The first thing I do when I’m going to cook, is fill the kitchen sink with hot soapy water. Next in line is the oven if required. it will be lit and set to the desired temperature in order to be ready when it’s needed.

Having done this, the ingredients are next, all lined up on the bench, in whatever order they are required to be added. They look ever so cute, all lined up like little ducks. Does my little OCD heart good to see them so too.

If I’m required to do a mixture of spices, or the garlic and onion need to be sweated in a pan, they will be dutifully chopped, diced, sliced or whatever I need to do to them and they are then placed in a bowl. At this point the knife used will be washed and dried with ever the present tea towel on my shoulder. The board is also washed down and dried in case it’s needed again at a later point. The ingredients already used are put back where I got them from if it’s spices or minced garlic, perhaps ginger, or even sugar.

Please note, the bowl with said onions, garlic, ginger, whatever is needed, is put next to the stove in readiness for the cooking to begin. Why would you out it anywhere else? The stove is where you cook!

Any ingredients that need to be mixed are, and this bowl goes next to the other on the bench, beside the stove.

Once all ingredients that need preparation are done, the pan will be oiled and heated in rediness for the real fun.

Ingredients are added in the order whatever recipe I’m using dictates.

As bowls or plates are emptied they go straight into the sink in readiness to be washed. Little scrubbing once you’re done that way.

Once all is done and merrily simmering or baking or whatever, then you do the dishes. You wash, dry and put them away in the relevant place in the kitchen. There will NOT be one thing NOT as I found it, right down to the salt and pepper. Job done. Easy!

Now, there is a reason for the method. Recipes are created in a certain order. If that order wasn’t important, they’d all run one after the other as opposed to in a list or numbered would they not?

Why you would want to do it any other way is beyond me! It drives me NUTS when people are all over the place like a mad womans shit! Follow the damned method! It’s not frigging brain surgery. It’s A B C, 1 2 3…simple!

It’s like sport. If it wasn’t important, they wouldn’t keep score right?

Now. When I’m in the mood and ALLOW you to use MY kitchen, you WILL do it my way, or you WILL fuck of out of my kitchen.

This is NOT negotiable. This is MY kitchen, and you will do it MY way.

You have a problem with that? 2 options.

Go away

or

I have LOTS of sharp knives that I CAN and WILL use.

See. No arguments. Easy

Talk Much??

I’ve noticed recently a new quirk. I guess the quirk itself isn’t new, but it’s become more prominent. And I only do it when I’m alone, either in my car or at my house. THANK GOD FOR THIS! If i’m at someone’s house or have people over, I can leave the room if I have to. It hasn’t gotten THAT bad yet though. And I mean yet.

It will start with a thought. Sometimes the thought is a completely rational thought, other times it makes no freaking sense at all, and sometimes it’s sing-songy (WTF?). And I’ll think it, and think it, and think it.

Finally, the thought will start getting on my nerves because it will keep crawling back in. The thoughts are generally a sentence or two and that’s it.

The only way to get the thought out of my head is to say it out loud. So, picture me, wandering around the house or driving down the road, randomly spitting out one or two sentence thoughts that sometimes make no fucking sense. Like none. Or worse yet, singing a sentence or two that is obviously not meant to be sung.

My cat must think i’m just a riot!

Man, I’m fucked up Thank God it’s me though, because I don’t think anyone else could handle being me as well as I do. Woo Hoo!

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I hate that!

There many little things that upset/annoy/niggle me. I won’t list them all otherwise I’ll still be here at midnight, so I’ll only list the main ones:

Crumbs. Why, why oh why can people not wipe them up??? Rocket science it is not people!

Throwing a towel over the rail rather than folding and placing it. Don’t they know the edges NEED to be level?

Not rinsing a teaspoon and/or coffee cup, and putting in the drainer. Perhaps I should make them lick it clean once it goes all sticky and feral?

Dropping dirty clothes on the floor. They’d be in for a shock in my house when I tell them I wash in the laundry not the bedroom wouldn’t they? Particularly when they find they have no clean clothes!

Rings on the coffee table due to lack of using a coaster. Again, maybe I should make them lick it clean once it’s hard and crusty?

Leaving the keyboard drawer out after using the computer. Don’t they realise a person could crack a bone on that sharp edge? I’m here to tell you if I crack one of my bones because of your inability to roll a drawer in, I’m cracking more than one of yours, that I promise you!!

Not putting the X Box controller back where they found it. If they can manage to find it in there, surely it’s quite a simple exercise to reverse the process. Again, rocket science it is not!

Now you may ask why it is, these have been singled out?

Because in the last week (with the exception of the dirty washing one) each and every one of them has occurred in this house. Some have been MSO, others have been visitors.

The world is going mad and I’m a close 2nd I tell you! Perhaps a full moon is near? I’m off to check the calendar

Party poooper?

So I survived a birthday slumber party with several eight and nine year old little girls over this past weekend. Let me just say first off, I quit smoking in January and have rarely craved a shmoke. I dearly wanted one at 6AM this morning as they woke me up screaming and running through the house.

I knew that the girls would be in and out, in and out all day/night long so I didn’t make the house spotless before they came over. Yeah, it was clean. But, it coulda been cleaner, and I wasn’t too afraid knowing that my floors weren’t mopped, and the child’s room wasn’t spotless, and so on. I knew that once they left, I’d have the opportunity to fix and clean everything.

And I didn’t set any rules. No, I didn’t want to throw a bunch of rules at the girls, and expect them to actually listen. I didn’t want to sound like an old, biddy so I let them do what they wanted. Oh my freaking gosh . . . a mad house, I was in a freaking mad house.

I was literally going, OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG .. ! Oh – My – FREAKING – Gosh! Look at my floor! Look at my couch! Look at my kitchen! Oh my poor poor kitchen!!! Don’t worry cabinets, they won’t slam you shut much longer. No, they’re parents will pick them up soon. Oh, ‘fridgerator, don’t cry. The spilled milk on your shelves can be cleaned up. Oh there, there .. let me get it!

I cringed. And I cussed under my breath. I held my breath. I looked away, and covered my eyes. I peeked through my fingers and saw them pillow fighting with my couch cushions, and I was like ohhhh myyyy freeeeaking goshhhh!!

I finally got them all to settle down and eat some breakfast. Cake and ice cream for breakfast, all around! I sugared them up and sent their little butts home. And then I got to cleaning! And I cleaned. And I smiled. And I loved every minute of it.

Call Me Count Chocula

I LOVE to count.

I count stairs, steps I take, cars, just about anything I can count.

It started when I was very young.  I used to count cars on long trips.  Then it was red cars, then blue cars, then white cars, so on and so forth. 

I remember being in church and counting hats. Then blue hats, then black hats, you get the idea.

It’s so bad, that when there is a funeral procession I have to look away and count to 10 before I look back so my car count won’t be correct. (it’s bad luck to count cars in a funeral procession in case you didn’t know.)

I always figured I was normal.  Of course, I realize i’m far from normal.  What is “normal” anyway?  Is there such a thing?  Normal is boring.  I’m far from boring!  I like the sound of that better.

The greatest thing about wordpress is that it counts your words for you.  Thank God cuz I don’t have time to count them all right now. 

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So much to do, so little time

I’ve had a few weekends like this recently. It’s the reason I blog so much. There’s a record of what I’ve done!
I decide I need to wash the car.
As I head to the garage, I notice there’s mail on the kitchen table.
I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car.
I put my car keys down on the table, put the junk mail in the rubbish bin, and notice that the rubbish bin’s full.
So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the rubbish.
But then I think, since I’ll be near the mailbox when I take out the rubbish, I might as well pay the bills first.
I take my chequebook off the table, and see there’s only one cheque left. My extra cheques are on the desk in the study.
So I go to the desk where I find the can of Coke I’d been drinking. I’ll look for my cheques, but first I need to push the Coke aside so I don’t accidentally knock it over.
Because the Coke is getting warm, I decide to put it in the refrigerator. As I head toward the kitchen, a vase of flowers on the bench catches my eye because I can see they need to be watered.
I set the Coke down on the bench, and discover the reading glasses I’ve been searching for all morning. I decide I’d better put them back on my desk, but first I’ll water the flowers.
I set the glasses back down on the bench, fill a container with water and suddenly I spot the TV remote.
Someone left it by the computer. I realize that tonight when we go to watch TV, we’ll be looking for the remote, but nobody will remember where it is.
So I decide to put it back where it belongs, after I water the flowers. I splash some water on the flowers, but most of it spills on the floor.
So, I set the remote back down on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill. Then I head down the hall, trying to remember what I was planning to do.

At the end of the day; the car isn’t washed, the bills aren’t paid, there’s a warm can of Coke sitting on the bench, the flowers aren’t watered, there’s still only one cheque in my chequebook, I can’t find the remote, I can’t find my glasses, and I don’t remember what I did with the car keys. Then when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I’m really baffled because I know I was busy all day long, and I’m really tired.

Yes, I realise this is a serious problem, and I’ll try to get some help for it! It’s driving me NUTS! Normally I’m THE most organised person in the world!

I think I need a drink!

An OCD he’s not, God love him!

Washing day here. Great day for it. Lots of sunshine and warmth, bit of a breeze happening. All adds up to perfection for clothes and linen.
Nothing like the smell of sunshine and the breeze in your freshly washed clothes, sheets and towels.
Anyhow, I’ve just gone to hang mine out, in my own inimitable manner, and my SO said he would give me a hand.
Now, I was good! I suppressed the small shiver that threatened to engulf me! I thought it was a sweet offer!
I’m not an ungrateful person, and part of the reason I love this man is because of things like this. He’s always more than willing to help where he can, so being the nice person I am, my only reaction was to say thank you sweetheart, that would be nice.
As we were doing the task (with me only having to change a FEW little things…eg, peg colours were wrong, towels only had 4 pegs instead of 5, little things like that) I told him about my hanging the washing post and that the other girls wanted me to post photos once I got a USB cable. Following is the (very) short conversation regarding same:

HIM: “Hmmm…guess I won’t be helping that weekend then?”
ME: “Why darl?”
HIM: “Cos there’s your way and God f**king help me!!”

And still, I love him regardless of the blood he very inconsiderately left on the verndah and tiles as he ran for bandages!

Gladware

What is it with me?  I cannot stop buying disposable Tupperware, preferably “Gladware”.  Just when I thought I had it under control, and all my tuppies are in order – I see they have Halloween Gladware available at Tar*get and Wal*mart.  Shit!  How am I going to recover from this addiction if they don’t stop coming out with cute designs.  I feel like a kid in a candy store when I get to that isle in the store.  I actually get a surge of excitement!  Adorable ghosts, pumpkins, and witches with different colored lids.  What could be better?

I hate it when I start out with PERFECT Gladware, and if I don’t take great CARE with it,  it gets discolored, or this kind of white crusty stuff on it.  If one of the kids throws it into the dishwasher with food bits in it, sometimes it becomes encrusted onto the Gladware and that means it has to be thrown away.  Even if it becomes to scratchy looking, it’s garbage.  It must be clean and CLEAR.  Why?  Well, it LOOKS dirty to me, That’s FUCKING WHY!!!

It makes me happy to open my cabinet and see all of my loverlies lined up and ready to go.  In all shapes and sizes with matching lids.  A lid is missing?  WHAT?  The container is banished to the garbage.  I cannot have an extra container laying around without its partner.  Why do I put so many into my shopping cart?  Well, what if there is a plastic shortage? 

  Does anyone else suffer with this?  When I saw the latest Halloween edition, I was piling it into my shopping cart like a mad woman, my son (11 yrs) said, “Wow, mom, do you really need all of that?  Didn’t you just buy some of that last week?”

Ugh, if he only knew the half of it!

~Bella

Online banking

A few years ago, my bank account was totally wiped out. I don’t know who did it. I don’t know why. All I know is that I went to the ATM one morning, and I was 500 bones in the red. The bastid had taken all of my money, plus some. I don’t have much to begin with, so when someone stole my money, I was completely heartbroken. I was devistated. I was angry. I was scared.

After many phone calls, trips to my local bank, and waiting patiently for two weeks, my money was back in my account. I was relieved, somewhat.

That was a few years ago. To this day, I still check my online banking at least ten times a day. TEN times. A day. Sometimes more, if it’s been stressful. I have to check it. I have to make sure that nobody is trying to take my money. I have to make sure that if something changes, I know then and there what it is, why it changed, and how much money is left. I never want to be in the situation I was in ever again.

:: :: :: Red :: :: ::

Totally anal

It’s official. My self-diagnosed OCD is an actual affliction!  And I wish that was MY ass.  I could kill that chick for her ass.  It bothers me a little that her ass is kind of not completely covered though.  And they can forget about me disorganizing my alphabetized CD collection.  That’s NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN. 

You Are Totally Anal Retentive

Yup, you’re so uptight – people definitely have called you “anal.” You’re the type of person who’s so OCD you organize your M&Ms before eating them. You have so many rules and rituals, it’s hard for you to let loose and enjoy life. So go ahead and mix up your alphabetized CD collection. Live a little!

Are You Anal Retentive?

Posted by observant