Karmic Kitchen

Those who know me know I enjoy having people over to my place and feeding them.  But, in the last couple of weeks I think my kitchen is trying to tell me something.  While friends were over about two weeks ago my kitchen sink clogged.  Dinner was pretty much ready so I didn’t stress too much.  I just shrugged my shoulders and said, “I guess we don’t have to do the dishes tonight”.  We all laughed and enjoyed dinner together.  The sink was fixed the next night (really, what else does anyone want to do on a Friday night anyway?).

The next day, my fridge stopped keeping things cool.  And, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that the job of a fridge, to keep things cool?  It was a side-by-side fridge (fridge on one side, freezer on the other).  I opened the freezer side and everything had melted and dripped to the bottom.  And then, in my infinite wisdom, I turned it as cold as it would go so it didn’t get messier in there.  Really, not a good idea.  I don’t advise this action – ever! A bag of frozen strawberries had collapsed through the wire shelf and once they semi-froze again I couldn’t get them out.  Over-ripe bananas that I had put in the freezer to make banana bread with later did the same thing.  So, a new fridge was bought and arrived a week later.

Then, the other day, an hour before people were to arrive, I put some butter in the microwave to melt in order to make corn bread.  Not even 20 seconds in a loud pop was heard, then a flash was seen, and the microwave stopped.  The next day, a new microwave was bought.

Today, friends are coming for dinner.  Come on, new gas range.

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A Warm, Fuzzy Blanket

I’m  participating in NaBloPoMo this month.  It’s put on by www.blogher.com .  The theme this month is comfort and the prompt today is ‘what would you rather have a soft pillow or a warm, fuzzy blanket?’

There is nothing better than wrapping up in a warm, fuzzy blanket.  I’ve already talked about my grandmother’s quilt and although it wasn’t fuzzy it was warm with a flannel backing and gave me just the right degree of comfort I always needed.  A blanket like that can be just as comforting as talking to an old friend.  It doesn’t talk back and an old friend knows when not to talk back.  It wraps you up in a hug just the way an old friend will hug.  I know the comfort won’t last with a blanket the way it would last with an old friend but it sometimes is a good start in seeking comfort.

I have friends who are like warm, fuzzy blankets.  No, they do not have a problem with hirsutism.  But they have a knack of knowing just what to say and when to say it.  They know when to stay silent and when to make you laugh.  They are more valuable than any warm, fuzzy blanket and I don’t know what I would do without them in my life…guess I’d be really cold.