A moment of tranquility before the day begins in earnest. The apple pie is cooling on the counter, the new micro-fiber sheets are being laundered, the scent of really good coffee has wafted into my office, exercise is complete and I am happily typing at my laptop.
I do feel compelled to share some confessions to Ancora imparo readers before my carbohydrate coma sets in and those precious Three Musketeers (and their parents!) arrive.
Yesterday, Capt. Cook baked the turkey. It is all carved, in its serving dish, waiting in the refrigerator for warming tomorrow. As he and I were gathering all of the materials we'd need to carve the turkey, we had to get the big cutting board with the outer trough to catch all of the meat juices. After washing and oiling each time, it is placed in a pillow case and stored in an upright position on the laundry-room counter, next to a set of wire shelves that, well, let's just say, have an eclectic array of items...........among them, reusuable shopping bags and small paper sacks with corded handles. These handled-paper sacks are not the gift-bag variety, rather the type that are made out of plain paper and may, or may not, have a logo printed on them. I find them highly useful for multiple purposes. As we pulled the cutting board from its place, lots (that's as many as I'll admit to) of those paper bags fell out onto the counter. So many that even I thought perhaps I didn't need to save any more until the beginning of the next century.
Secondly, I am embarrassed to admit that I keep receiving emails with the subject line having something to do with "singles over 50 looking for love, companionship, etc." These are not X-rated, although I suppose they could be because I never open them up but I do not visit questionable web sites. I'm not sure what dismays me more: That my name is on a demographic list for people over 50 or that I am considered "single". Let us not tell Capt. Cook this!
Lastly, I have to publicly confess that I ate one of the cookies I had saved for Capt. Cook. When I poured my steaming cup of java this morning, the bag containing two Peanut Blossom cookies was still sitting there after I'd placed it on the counter over 36 hours ago. To the cookie-aholic, you might as well put a neon sign over the bag, declaring that these cookies are now for public consumption, since OBVIOUSLY, he is not interested in eating either one or two. Of course, now, he only has one to consume and if he doesn't eat it today, all bets are off that it will last past my cup of coffee tomorrow morning!
If I eat his cookie tomorrow, I am not certain that I will publicly announce it. I might just privately savor it!
Ancora imparo
