Reykjavik Pottage

So, here’s the story. Reykjavik (pronounced Ray’ koh vik) is a city in Iceland. And you would assume that the locals have a favorite dish, right? You'll need that assumption later on.

Being the creative cook I am, I decided to try my hand at something new. Supper Club was coming up in a few days, so I spent some time on the internet looking up recipes. 

The night of Supper Club. . . People are trying my dish. Quite a few of the little old ladies were guessing Salisbury Steak. But the problem was, something was off. So we are telling folks about the city in Iceland and the popularity of a certain dish in Iceland. “Oh, really?” they said. “Darned thing is a lot like Salisbury Steak.” they said. “But something is different.” they said.

What Really Happened. . . . . .

I tried my hand at Salisbury Steak. One recipe that had a lot of likes called for Worcestershire Sauce. Another called for ground mustard. Not finding anything that could back either item as being more popular I decided to use both. It was a little hinky, but, since one of the ingredients called for going in the mix at the last minute I thought it would get covered up.

It didn’t. I think the odd combo got stronger. Like mixing two chemicals to make a bomb. And a bomb this dish was. Not THE BOMB. Just a Bomb. It was too late to start over. 

Courtney created a cover story for it. She googled cities in Iceland and went about concocting a tale to explain the funky tasting dish called Reykjavik Pottage. Told it to everyone. They bought it.

hmmmmm......I wonder how many of them read this blog? My cover might be blown.

Spring's Sad Song

In being perfectly honest about myself I often admit that I wasn’t the best kid on the planet. If I were Native American my name would be Runs With Scissors. I was telling my friend that my parents believed in punishment. You know that old adage, “This is going to hurt me more than it is going to hurt you.” Yeah, I didn’t buy that. As for myself I didn’t turn to corporal punishment, but I was strict and tough.

So my friend is sitting on the other side of my desk with a pen and paper. Here is what she wrote:

Ouch!!

I just can’t take it.

I’m the one hurting

And she’s the one crying!

She’s crying!!

And not only did she pull it,

She stripped it bare!

Ungrateful and Hateful!

And I know when it’s going to happen.

I can hear that voice “Go on, go get it. 

And it better be a good one or else.”

But why do I feel like I’m getting the “or else?”

And here she comes,

crying, and she yanks me!

That little red-headed abuser!

Oh well. . . . . maybe I will bear fruit next year.

Yup. There was a year when the pear tree in the back yard didn’t bloom. 

Ode to the Pear Tree ~ penned by Courtney Ware

A Dose of New Adventure on the Job

Well, my job description just got a little more interesting. Debra Hodapp, a Children's Day Out teacher, called me over to her side of the building. I thought she was saying she had a creep at the back of her classroom. (There are windows on both walls.) I was prepared to call the police. I arrived to find her sitting up on a classroom table keeping her eyes on the intruder.

She had a SNAKE in the classroom. I got a broom, moved furniture and swept him out the back door with him turning around and lunging at me. I just kept whacking him with the broom until I had him off the sidewalk and in the grass. I whacked him several more times, then pinned him down with the broom until someone could lend aid. 

Her daughter was standing nearby and noticed the arrival of my boss. He was standing on the sidewalk across the lot and talking on his phone. He sees her waving frantically and strolls over. At the sight of the snake he jumped back about 10 feet - just flew backward. Practically levitated at warp speed. He went into the building to find something to dispatch the creature with. He came out with the matching PLASTIC dust pan that belonged to the broom I was forcing into the ground with all my might to keep the ever-wiggling snake pinned down. Well, that wasn't sharp enough. I told him go get a knife from the kitchen. His response - "I'm not getting that close!!!!!"

He raced into the building again, telling Pastor Paula he needed something sharp. She said, "Well, the only thing I  know of is the shovel used to break the ground in the ceremony for the new building." He grabs the first one he can get his hands on and heads back to my situation of seriously straining to keep the creature pinned to the ground.

Super Hero Pastor Chuck Weber promptly dispatched him with the shovel and pushed him so far down in the dirt that I had to get pliers to pull the body out of the ground. Then boss-man determines it was a water moccasin. My skin crawled for the rest of the day.