Today has been the first day in months I’ve not worked. Since I work for myself, there’s rarely a day when I don’t put in at least a few hours. But, since I’ve been busting my rear so much lately trying to meet deadlines, Hubbit requested I not work this weekend. I’ve gotta tell ya, it’s pretty darn difficult to back away from work, especially when he and the boys left me all alone (or as alone as you can get with five dogs) while they went Christmas shopping for five hours today.
So, what did I do? Well, before Hubbit awoke from his nap, I spent the morning shopping with Flea. Then when my three elves left for their shopping expedition, I spent some of the day cooking, some of the day playing the guitar and some of the day watching reality TV on DVR.
But, the day wasn’t totally wasted on self-indulgence.
I did learn a few things!
I learned: I hate the smell of cooked deer. Seriously. You know that one food that the mere smell of it, turns your stomach instantly? I never really knew what “that” food was for me, until today. Flea’s best friend has a family that hunts and this year they shared some of their kill (Is that what you call it?) with us…because they are Awesomest of all Awesomes.
The boys and Hubbit were thrilled with the thought of getting some as-fresh-as-it-gets deer meat, so today I thought I’d cook the deer roast for them. I can cook a mean roast, considering the only skills it requires is putting the meat in the Crock Pot, adding vegetables and walking away. I do best on those “walking away” recipes since they require absolutely no level of attention span.
Side note: My dad doesn’t hunt so I’ve never really been exposed to the whole hunting process. So, when Flea’s best friend brought a huge bag (the size of a garbage bag) into our house telling me there was deer meat in it for us, I almost passed out in the floor. Seriously. I felt woozy, for real.
Hubbit was highly entertained by this because he’s mean and for some reason thinks me feeling woozy and weaving like I’m going to pass out is somewhat entertaining. As I was grasping the counter for support, I kept looking at the shape of the bag and swore it looked like a baby deer carcass was lumped up in it! So, I screamed for Hubbit to take it out to the garage, open it and report back to me about what he found. I told him that under NO circumstances did I want to see what was in that bag. As the good husband he is, he did as I asked and came back hysterically laughing, holding beautifully white packaged roasts and steaks from a professional butcher’s shop.
Remember: I had no clue how this transfer-of-deer-meat-process actually worked or that it was actually 100% civilized. Of course, I didn’t dare tell our friends who gave us the meat that story of my own “stupid” because…well…they’ve witnessed my “stupid” first hand all too many times before and I don’t want them to think I’m a complete moron.
Listen, I’m all about being yourself and all but let me just explain one instance these particular friends have experienced from me and you'll quickly understand just one tiny bit of the "stupid" I'm capable of.
I will call this friend Ape and will call her husband The Cop. A few years ago, my mother calls me and says she’s seen in the obituaries that a young man has died and it lists Ape’s and The Cop’s names (both first and last) as siblings.
Now, I had known this family for about four years at this point and had met both Ape’s and The Cop’s parents. In fact, Ape’s sister is even married to a firefighter Hubbit knows. I thanked my mother for the useful information and immediately dialed Ape’s cell phone. I got her voicemail (just like I fully expected, as her brother had just tragically passed away) and left her a beautiful message.
It went something like this:
Ape, this is Whitney. I just heard that your brother passed away and wanted to call you to tell you I’m extremely sorry for your loss. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. Maybe I can babysit your boys or cook you guys dinner (Who was I kidding? I totally would have brought take out because while I make my family eat my cooking, I would never make a grieving woman’s family do the same). I just feel terrible about this and just hate that you guys are going through this horrible tragedy. I'm sure you're just heartbroken. I can't even imagine the pain you must feel. Really, please call me as soon as you can because I just want to help in any way. Ok, call me. I’m so sorry. Ok, call me. Call me. Ok, bye.
Nice and friendly, right?
About an hour later, my phone rings and Ape’s name shows up on Caller ID. I answer it with my best “sympathy” voice, immediately going into the whole “I’m so sorry” thing before I realize she is laughing HYSTERICALLY on the other end of the phone. I stopped and asked what on Earth she was laughing about. She proceeded to tell me, she in fact did…NOT...have a brother. She did however let me know that she was going to be sure to share this with The Cop, so he too could get a kick out of it.
Geez.
The bad part is I know her family! I knew she had only one sister. I know the sister. I've been to family birthday parties where there has NEVER been a brother of any type present.
Ugh. What are the odds there would be another husband and wife with their same first and last name combo?!
What we had there was a big batch of “stupid” and that’s not the only batch Ape and The Cop have witnessed from me. I could go on and on, but I will spare you. All I can say is, they must really love Flea to put up with me! LOL
Ok, back to the deer meat! See why those “walking away” recipes work perfectly for me? I have no focus.
As it was cooking, I started getting nauseous from the smell. At first I thought it was all mental, because I did kind of cringe at the thought of poor little Bambi’s daddy cooking in my pretty little cooker. So, I tried to ignore it and with the lid on the Crock Pot, I was successful. But, when I took it out later to cut it I could barely stand it. Now it’s all I can smell. I feel like it’s forever burnt in my nose.
Ugh.
The great news is the boys and Hubbit loved the deer roast! The bad news is I’ve vowed to NEVER EVER let it be cooked in this house again. But, I did agree they could use the outside grill for their steaks at a later date. Wasn’t that nice of me? (giggle)
Oh, I did learn one other thing today: If I were to go “brain dead” the only thing my husband is worried about is whether or not he’d be able to recreate the Oreo Balls (thanks for the idea Crystal) I made this afternoon. He specifically asked me to write down the recipe, just in case. He's a keeper. Hmph.
Whitney
Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former.(Albert Einstein)
No comments:
Post a Comment