Although I have posted something (however small) almost every day this week, there have been several things which have occurred to spice up an otherwise rather frustrating week. So here are a few of those stories.
Several nights ago I woke up in the early morning hours to find the electricity off. I quickly realized it was not just us without power because it was very dark outside. I have a street light which shines directly in my bedroom window. I didn’t realize how bright that light was until that night. I really did not wake Gene up intentionally; he just happened to stir when I got out of bed to go to the bathroom. However, the next day I noticed him telling anyone within shouting distance that I woke him up in the middle of the night to tell him it was dark outside.
One of the things I am plagued with is a fire phobia. I’m not sure if there is such a malady, but it often dominates my thinking. I am constantly envisioning a fire event, turning off, and unplugging whenever we leave the Everest unattended. During the power outage, our furnace was running since it can draw power from the house batteries. As I lay there in the dark, my mind was thinking about that furnace. In my limited knowledge of deep cycle marine batteries, I envisioned the house batteries “running down” like the flashlight batteries. In my vision I saw a very dim light emitted from the flashlight as the batteries lost their life. I transferred that vision to the house batteries growing ever and ever weaker each time the furnace blower kicked on. I turned the furnace off when I reached the conclusion that the blower would be too weak to force the hot air through the ducts and we would burst into flames.
On Thanksgiving Day my brother and I were brought to a stark awareness that we have not gleaned all the knowledge that our mother could impart to us. This realization came as Mike was gathering the ingredients to make the dressing. First, let me say that my brother is a very good cook. He has an uncanny ability with good ole down home southern cooking. As he searched for the dressing ingredients, he was unable to find the cornbread that Mom swore was in the freezer--already crumbled and ready to use. He first consulted me, but I make cornbread from the Jiffy box mix which contains sugar--definitely a “no-no” for dressing. He made a few calls to a few friends and finally came up with a recipe. It turned out great.
We found our knowledge lacking again when it came time to make the giblet gravy. From her hospital bed, mother instructed us in preparing this traditional Thanksgiving meal delight.
Our Saturday Soup Supper went well, but by this time in this very hectic and often frustrating week, any little incident would send me off. One of Gene’s favorite desserts is an old family recipe it got many years ago from another great cook in our family--my cousin Carl. Buttermilk custard pie is very easy to make, but the recipe makes no allowances for a trailer which is not quite level. I put the pie, which is a relatively thin liquid before baking, into my convection oven. In the past, I have always used the gas oven, but since in this trailer it is very difficult to light, I have used the convection oven almost exclusively. As the turntable went round and round, I noticed just how out of level we are. The pie finally began to set up enough that it didn’t slosh around any more and I breathed a sigh of relief. My relief was short-lived as the top began to get too brown too soon. In the gas oven I would have just put a piece of aluminum foil over the top, but the convection oven doesn’t like aluminum foil. I said a bad word then crossed my fingers, waited and watched. My worries were for naught, however, as it turned out about perfect.
The pie baking occurred early Saturday morning. After the pie cooled, I put a piece of aluminum foil over the top to keep the dust off. About 10 minutes before Jack and Ansley arrived, someone, who shall remain nameless, put his foot in the middle of the pie. Thankfully, his paws did not penetrate the foil. Otherwise, he may have joined the ranks of the homeless, again.
I didn't mean to step in the pie. |