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Thursday, November 20, 2008

*economic futility.

Is it just me, or have these round-ups been coming in later and later in the week?

It's not just me. Stress levels and high-tide job-related sadness have conspired to drain me of my usual levels of crass wackitude.

See? That sentence was absurd.

I have had neither the financial wherewithal nor the energy to cook, because I've become hopelessly devoted to things that make me feel better. Those things usually come with tableside service and salt on the rim. But if I were rediscovering the joys of being in the kitchen, this would make me laugh every time I used it.



On my current All-Carb Diet (soon to be patented to the terminally thin!), 20,000 grains of rice sounds pretty appetizing.

Before I cooked it, though, I'd like to store the rice in this.



I have an unhealthy devotion to containers of any kind, and this one is pretty in its simplicity.

As is this.



It's like someone turned the perfect farmhouse kitchen towel into a casserole dish. I can imagine it filled with potatoes, carrots, mushrooms, and peas in a cream sauce, globbed with buttery biscuits.

Though there's a chance that might make me feel like a pig.



The look on that little piggy face just cracked me up.

This, however, made me a little misty.



I imagine it as the perfect gift for someone you love if you travel a lot. Or live far from one another. Or need to send the message that you'd like someone to move to a different time zone.

Which is what I'll be doing if I don't stay employed. Until then, it would probably behoove me to get to work on time, and I think this might help.



What now serves as the receptacle for all-things-sundry on the Woodside is the "dining room" table. Its position directly inside the front door makes it convenient, but also unsightly when piled with junk mail, handbags, dog leashes, and receipts. Because the Woodside is so narrow, the fact that it has space-saving capability makes it doubly helpful.

Speaking of saving space: This is the item that knocked my socks off the most this week.



My spices are a-jumble, but I couldn't believe when I saw this. Do a Google search and you'll discover what I found—there are a lot of heinous spice racks out there.

But this is the opposite of heinous.



It's tidy and useful, though I suspect even in it diminutive state it'd still be too small for the Woodside galley. Either way I'd need to find another use for that side feature. A bottle of wine does not last long around these parts.

Nor does a box of matches. My bathroom overhead lighting is hideous, so candles it is. I love this, but fear it's too delicious to use.



It isn't easy to feel motivated and inspired within the spectre of doom. It isn't even easy to feel awake when your anxiety dreams are laced with every fear your subconscious can conjure (including a few usual suspects who had until now stayed firmly at bay) and you're subsisting on a buffet of overeating and indigestion.

Which is why I found this firmly buoying.



Shit yeah.

3 comments:

Juarez Family says:
at: 3:45 PM said...

I feel your pain. Except we don't even have any money for food or booze.......

And so it goes... says:
at: 5:02 PM said...

I'm totally feeling your pain. We picked probably THE WORST time to put our house on the market, buy another house, and open a new restaurant. It's slim pickins around here....

The Life and Times of a Southern Foodie says:
at: 4:54 PM said...

hang in there.

search.

foodgawker

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archive.

followers.

I am a work in progress. I perpetually need a hair cut. I'm totally devoted to my remarkable nieces and nephew. I am an elementary home cook and a magazine worker bee. (Please criticize my syntax and spelling in the comments.) I think my dog is hilarious. I like chicken and spicy things. I have difficulty being a grown-up. Left to my own devices, I will eat enormous amounts of cheese snacks of all kinds.

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