K & M
The other day I set out to shell soy beans...
My goodness what a job it was. And why did I decide to take on this task when I could easily go to Trader Joes and purchase a bag of already-shelled soybeans? Well I did not feel like getting in my car to go down there and I figured I had two bags of unshelled soybeans so "why not just 'save' energy and time and quickly shell them", at least that was my reasoning at the moment. Well, they took a lot longer to shell than I had planned. And when I did shell them the beans were flying everywhere. Left and right and behind the stove and at this present moment I still believe they are residing there behind the stove along with all sorts of other foods that have flown back there in my, shall we say, interactive cooking kitchen moments. When it happens, meaning, when I drop food behind the stove I usually just sigh and that's about all I do. You see it is not because I am lazy and I don't feel like bending my knees to get the food off the floor it is because there is about a 1 inch canyon between the counter and the stove. It is just big enough for fish sticks, chicken legs, hot dogs and the like to fall there and it is just small enough to block out both ends of the broom, and my arm from reaching. And it is just deep enough so if I could happen to lose 40 pounds in my right arm I still wouldn't be able to reach any food products that have gone astray. So, you know what happens? That food just settles there behind the stove like tums on an acidy stomach. And the canyon in my brain lets the instances of such mishaps settle as well and I never end up mentioning it to anyone like my dad, who happens to be quite handy with tools and could probably just simply move the stove. So be it the day if ever that stove gets moved. If that stove gets moved, I will be moved emotionally that is and maybe physically out of the vicinity because all my meal history from the time I first started cooking will be laid out on the floor before my very eyes. Maybe I'll reminisce..."Oh there's a piece of fish from that fish fry from 1998 when the grill blew up" or " Oh there's the tortilla I threw during the dinner party in 2004 when trying to kill a spider on the wall"...Maybe I'll shed a few tears because I can't believe that all the meals that I have made in my lifetime are reunited. Maybe I'll call hazard control, or maybe...just maybe I'll push back that ol stove and save the mess for another day.
