Klutz @ MindSay

In a random turn of events, I switched over to the kitchen this week.

I really was on the schedule for Day Camp this time, honest. Usually the schedule gets changed, and I just don't get the email until late, because I don't check my email at a decent time. But in this case, my dear friend J got back from the land of Aus a week earlier than we were all expecting. Considering that our bunch for that week was composed of nine boys and three girls, we rather gladly switched out one of the girl counselors for J.

No one is quite sure why, but whenever J walks in the room, we all light up and yell "J-y!" at the same time. It's just great to see him. And it's fun to say his name. He's a bass player with a goofy streak, that should give you an idea of his personality.

But, yeah, so we needed help in the kitchen, so I hopped on over there (no pun intended - J's started calling me 'wallaby'.)

Monday, I made approximately three hundred cookies. Approximately. I didn't count, the recipe was supposed to be for 6-8 dozen, and I quadrupled it. They were gooood cookies. Of all the cookies that have been made this week, those were the favorites. There you have it, I am a worthwhile human being: I can make kickass chocolate-chip cookies.

Tuesday, I spent most of the morning and part of the afternoon preparing hamburger for something else we did today. About eighteen pounds of it. I have worked out a system, and the most important part of it is that you never try to have more than three pounds of hamburger in the pan at a time.

Wednesday, I didn't have any particularly fun kitchen adventures, but my family came by to visit! I love having people come to visit. I kind of have to know that you're going to, so I can actually meet you, but people love me and come to see me! Eeee! Actually, Reese was going to come by that night, too, but we'd had a miscommunication wherein I thought he would be by on Monday or Tuesday (and yelled at him for not showing up), and he'd been planning Wednesday because he hadn't heard me say that my family was coming then.

Not that there's really any problem with having Reese and my family in the same place. Well, there sort of is, but I just wanted the two events separately so that I could enjoy each to the fullest. Enjoying the dynamic of Reese and my family at camp would be a little odd, and I was a little tired.

That, and as witnessed after Mom and I went to Reese and Santas' show the other night, my family doesn't really know that we're friends or how we're friends. And I'm not ready to explain the odd qualifications about Reese that make it okay to hang out with him after I've declared that I'm not okay hanging out with guys.

There are 2 guys that are the exception to that rule. One of them is in this hemisphere. That would be Reese.

Thursday, I learned something about myself that I wouldn't have thought of. Nothing major, but...let me introduce G. G is one of the two people in charge in the kitchen - she comes in around 10:30 and does the evening meal. I come in around 7:30 or so in the morning, and good grief, I just realized that I do a 12-hour day in the kitchen. No wonder I'm always so tired. Anyway, G has observed that whenever I take a quick break, like for our morning devo time, I grab a cookie. And a couple times after I made cookies, I grabbed a cookie. And sometimes, just because I'm walking by the box of cookies, I grab a cookie. These aren't just mine, we also made sugar cookies and monster cookies (which I am also very fond of) this week.

Then G observed me at lunch. Unfortunately for the sake of scientific observation, we had snicker salad for our dessert at lunch. Snicker Salad = Saxy's favorite dessert. Ever. I get more snicker salad than main course. Just make a pile of it on my tray. Love it.

Then G observed me at dinner, when I went for a double-serving of this really cool cream-cheese-strawberry-pretzel dessert that I must learn to make at home, and announced, "You've got a sweet tooth."

And honestly, that would never have occurred to me. Because I don't drink pop, and I don't eat all that much candy. For the most part, I think I eat rather healthily. But she's right, I do! I don't necessarily like sugar, but I love sweet things.

Tomorrow's last day in the kitchen. Should be interesting. This whole week has been an adventure in confidence building, and proving that I CAN actually navigate a kitchen without injury.

I'm frankly rather stunned at that. I worked at a fast food place, a coffee shop, a pizza place, a barbecue restaurant, and a buffet, and I was always the girl getting hurt doing klutzy things. I have not burned myself once this week (came close twice, but they were things anyone would have done, not being klutzy), I haven't dropped anything heavy on myself, I haven't cut myself (and I've been using lots of big sharp knives, frequently), I haven't walked into a door, I've had the sense not to go into the freezer with bare hands...it's amazing! I am not 24/7 klutz-girl!

I realize this has ramifications, like me needing a new super identity, but I'm just too excited about this. I was not cursed at birth, I am not doomed to be a klutz!!

That, and I have a fair amount of confidence from this week (learning new things always builds confidence), and I will never fear dirty dishes again. Resent, quite possibly, but I have done more dishes this week than I realized could exist in a single kitchen (actually, they don't - I'll regularly wash the same implement five or six times a day, because we need it for something else).

But yes, it has been a good week.

I admit I'm not the most graceful gal in the world.  I'll even go so far as to say I'm klutzy.  Which is good that I'll admit it, because it would be very hard to wallow in comfy denial when you are tripping over your own feet.

Actually, my feet aren't the problem (to be honest, they've been behaving themselves quite nicely.  After all, they haven't exactly experienced continual wearing of high heels, and so I consider despite their naivite they are taking things in quite a comfortable and secure stride.  They have found a particularly giggly delight in walking across marble floors.  You must have confidence to stride across marble floors in pointy high heel shoes.  Apparently I have confidence).

Anyway (whew... bunny trail!), the problem is easily contained in terms of spigots.

Yes, m'loves, that's right: spigots.

Notably the spigots on the water coolers at the get-together Saturday (maybe my feet really did want a shower!  Not only have they turned posh, but they've also become demanding!).  As well as the spigots on the Slushee machines at the 7-11 us parched souls stopped by after our little gig (at least I cleaned up my own mess, right?).  Not to mention the spigot on the fridge of the friends with whom I'm staying.  At least it was only water and they have a tile kitchen floor.  Easy to mop up.

Oh.

I suppose there is also forks.  They're tricky little buggers.

Especially when they don't their job in holding down your piece of meat as you try to cut it with a knife, and thus the meat goes flinging to the other side of the plate, showering some beloved friends in bits of corn that was once piled neatly behind said meat.

But that's what placemats are for, right?  Right?

Anyway... I spent the entire day rummaging through dozens and dozens of ill-marked boxes (a label of "kitchenware" could quite easily yield old tax documents, some random toys, a few craft supplies, scads of packing paper, and possibly a pot or two.  But the lids will be in a box marked "lampshades."  Go figure), and have been able to come up with a few items that shall help my eventual move along.  I am hoping a little more rummaging will find me the additional parts to the vacuum cleaner and the other part of the crock pot.  But I'm pleased to note the microwave seems in good shape.

And the best part of the day?

Seeing my grandparents again.

Sometimes it amazes me how blessed I am to have the family I do.

At least my klutziness was (somewhat) contained today (I'll admit to a few bruised and skinned knuckles, as well as a few scrapes along the arm from the sides of boxes, and I nearly locked my keys in the storage container... with me outside it).  But I didn't accidentally try to spear a grandparent as I tried to neatly dice my omelet during lunch today...