Elgan speaks
...and her words thunder across the land

I AM IN CONTROL, I think�

Sunday, Jun. 20, 2004
7:53 p.m.
I can be such a bitch. Especially when I have PMS. And I�m hungry. And my kitchen is invaded by teenagers. And one of them isn�t even my own kid. I guess I should start from the beginning.

As usual, Little Princess� boyfriend showed up this afternoon (why he wasn�t spending Father�s Day with his own dad is another story which I may or may not tell at another time), and it was getting close to dinner hour and no preparations had yet been made. Well, that was probably my fault, since I was busy winning at Literati� and couldn�t pull myself away from the magic box long enough to cook a meal. Little Princess was at the other computer and we were instant messaging each other about what she and BF could prepare for supper. There weren�t that many supplies in the house, so as soon as I trounced my opponent I took off to Provigo to stock up on vegetables, including some nice-looking asparagus. I despise asparagus.

As luck would have it, I ran into people I know at the grocery store: the kids� karate instructor in company with one of my students from last night�s show, and Buddy Boy�s barber back from his fishing trip (which I understand yielded no fish but beautiful weather and a great vacation). So of course my quick jaunt to Provigo turned into a lengthy conversation and when I got home, my kitchen had been taken over by these well-meaning adolescents.

Now, I don�t want to sound like I�m down on these guys because they really were trying to be helpful, but BF was in the process of burning the shit out of my wok (which I�ve owned for 30 years and hope will last my natural lifetime), and he actually did melt my one-cup measure by leaving it on the stove right next to the burner where he was cooking bulgur. I quickly rectified the wok situation and promptly left the kitchen because I simply could not stand to be there. Hence I was not around when the measuring cup got left next to the heat.

I admit it: I am a control freak, at least where my kitchen is involved. I am also a very good cook. Just ask tcklyrpharsn. She knows. (Actually, her boy once gave me the greatest compliment when he said, �Are you sure you�re not Italian?�) When my blood sugar is low, I am a bit irritable. When I have PMS, I am a bitch (PMS = psychotic mommy syndrome). Combine the two and we have a recipe for disaster. I actually called BF an idiot (and promptly apologized) when I saw my measuring cup. His excuse was that at home they have a gas range and it doesn�t get hot anywhere but under the pot. Excuse me, but you put a piece of plastic right next to the burner, as he did, it�s going to melt! Luckily I have other measuring cups. But you see my frustration at losing control of my own domain. I bet the lunchladies of Mordor know exactly how I feel.

Anyway, supper turned out reasonably well. The bulgur was made with too much water, so had very little flavour (I added lots of soya sauce, that helped), the stir-fry was okay, except that the chunks of potato weren�t always cooked through, Jane�s Scottish Haddock is pretty hard to ruin (except that Buddy Boy says he once made it and managed to make all the breading fall off), and the cut-up vegetables were just fine. I prepared the asparagus, and it was delicious. Hubby said so. So there. We cracked open a bottle of Vlad�s David�s Shiraz, and once I got food into me I started feeling oh so much better.

So another Father�s Day goes down the tubes. I gave Hubby a Hawaiian shirt with parrots and cockatrices all over it and the new Eric Clapton CD he asked for. He played it during supper and we all enjoyed it very much. I also bought him a bouquet of mauve roses when I was out, and they look very nice in the vase with the white peonies from the yard. The peonies smell really nice too. And now I see the white box has magically appeared at my bidding, and it is time to copy and paste this epistle therein.

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