Confessions of Childhood Mischief: The No-Large-Peas-Allowed Club


The bridge -- watch your step

The bridge -- watch your step

As a child, an antique school bell called me to our evening meal each night. It pulled me out of my world of books, down the valley, across the ancient creaking suspension bridge and up the long hill.

Plopping into my chair, I would ask,”what are we having?”

Now before I go on, you must know that my mother can cook anything. I mean anything! Iron Chef couldn’t rattle her.

When I was little, she taught cooking at a local college. And every single evening of my childhood, dinner was served at 7pm sharp. Many a gourmet meal was I served before ever knowing what that even meant.

Anyway …

Where was I? Ah yes, the inquiry.

Usually, it was some magnificent creation that made the mouth drool in anticipation. However, if there was a pause, it was time to panic.

I was a horribly picky child. Here is the very short list of foods I would simply have nothing to do with:

peas, mushrooms, stuffed peppers, chili con carne, long grained rice, anything with visible onions… and … lamb. Oh, or even worse, ram.

I was only allowed one napkin, because she knew my intentions. The dogs were fed outside at the same time. Sh*#! There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide these damn foods.

I tried to fake sudden illness, once, only to break the thermometer in a stuffed pepper that was significantly hotter than sick child.

Finally, around the age of ten … epiphany. The end of my torture. I was a genius!

Only last year, did I finally confess my brilliant stratagem to my mom. The most magnificent part was that she truly had never known.

I would arrive at the table with shoes on. Then, slide them off about a second after grace… And blissfully fill them with the miseries of the evening.

Okay, well, not the chili. There was just no way around that. But the rest of it…

Don't stand under those top windows next to the chimney.

Don't stand under those top windows next to the chimney.

After I cleared the table, my stuffed shoes and I would head up to my room to gleefully deposit dinner out my bedroom window.

Supposedly, at 37 I am an adult. My palate has matured and I now savor many of the things at which I used to balk. In fact, I bought a lovely leg of boneless lamb this weekend on sale.

However, the pea lingers. Not the delicious little sugar snap peas from my garden.

No! I mean the large squishy ones of terrible texture.

Note for my mom: Today, I have found a true kindred soul. We are starting a No-Large-Peas-Allowed club and you are not invited. No! in fact, everyone does not like peas. Click here for proof.

( Neighbor Nancy straightens her apron and marches off brushing her hands of the subject. )

( She peeks back at the computer )

Maybe tomorrow another book review or perhaps a post about the ease and importance of pea and bean innoculation.  We’ll see.

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Date Night Desperate Measures: Making Hair Conditioner from the Spice Rack


So, your hair is a bit dry today and your out of conditioner. If you have this one thing in your spice rack, you’re set.

Sesame Seed Hair Conditioner

For one sad, dry, limp unloved head of hair:

1 hand full of sesame seeds, maybe 2 Tablespoons max.

water

Grind the seeds however you can. Blender, coffee grinder, hammer and baggie, whatever. Grind ’em up.

Simmer in a little water for about 10 minutes.

Strain the water from the seeds and allow to cool.

After shampooing, apply the sesame seed mess to your hair. Massage in.

Rinse. Rinse. Rinse.

Okay, so you might want to take a comb into the shower with you.

(cat call)

Just look at how you have boosted the shine, suppleness and softness.

Wow! you look hot. Go get, ’em!

Other home spa day recipes:

Home Spa Day Recipe: Rich Chocolate Ovaltine … I mean facial mask

Kitchen Shampoo — AKA “You’re Going to do WHAT With That Egg?!”

Baking Soda Soak for Silky Skin — AKA “Recession Depression Cures”

Brown Sugar Scrub

What is your favorite kitchen beauty recipe?

Shoe String Valentinte’s Day Spa Recipe–Oatmeal Soak


Ah, nothing like a warm, soothing bath to wash away all the worries of the day. Relax your Valentine with an oatmeal bath. And don’t forget your loved one just might like a little help.

For 1 stressed, winter worn body:

1 cup oatmeal

It can be quick oats, slow cook, plain unsweetened packets, whatever–just as long as it’s oatmeal.

Pulverize it in a food processor, blender, coffee grinder, grain mill. Whatever will turn it to dust is good enough.

Pour into the tub under running water. Stir it around and add your favorite valentine. With a little candlelight, the stress will just soak away. Leave your loved one in there for no less than 15 minutes.

Afterwards, worries should be washed away, dry skin soothed and softened. Feel free to massage your loved one with a little warmed baby oil.

No oil? Even just a little cornstarch to let the hands move over the skin smoothly will work beautifully.

One warning: Your true love may just fall asleep after all this pampering.

Published in: on February 10, 2009 at 9:58 pm  Comments (2)  
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