Dogs, Downsizing and Cooking Class

Levi is an amazing dog. He adapts well to my schedule no matter how crazy it gets. When I leave the house I might get a dirty look once in a while when I kiss his forehead and say, “Be a good boy and don’t let any rabbits get in the house” but the dirty look goes away when I bribe with a Milk-Bone Trail Mix treat that he often gets with the goodbye kiss. He loves that trail mix. He’ll cooperate with anything you ask him to do if you use the magic word, “Treat.” Sometimes when he won’t come inside when I call his name I’ll use the magic word and he’ll make a beeline to the door. (More than a few times I've gotten the sense that I’ve been conned.) That beeline ends near the pantry where he’ll position his little butt smack dab in the middle of the doorway between the kitchen and the living room so I can’t pass by until he gets his promised trail mix treat.

The long awaited rotisserie Chicken class that I signed up for back on January 3^rd finally took place this week. It wasn’t about how to cook them but rather what we can do with the store bought variety. The chef who taught the cooking class started by showing us how to break down the chicken and many of us we’re impressed by how easy she snapped the legs and thighs off with a simple trick of turning the chicken upside down first then pulling upward on that legs, both at the same time. (Or was it downward? I can't remember!) Next she flipped it over and cut down the center of the breast and since she was wearing plastic gloves it only took her seconds to have all the meat picked clean off the bones. When I do it I have to wash my hands a million times and I decided buying a box of those disposal gloves would be worth it, since rotisserie chicken is a staple around here. She talked about making her own chicken stock and chicken soup before she demonstrated making Chicken Shepherds’ Pie, Chicken Enchiladas and Chicken Salad on Croissants---all three of which we got to eat. I doubt I’d ever make the first two but they were good, and freezable recipes for four, but the class did inspire me to get more creative with my chicken salads.

The monthly Gathering (for people looking for friends) took place this week, too. I could go to this senior hall activity once a week and not get tired of playing the getting-to-know each other games the facilitator comes up with. Afterward six of us went to a near-by Tim Horton’s where they seem to have a knack for hiring the most inept employees but that works well for us because we can sit and gab for over an hour without the pressure of taking up a table in a busy place. Often we’re the only ones there.

We talked a lot about downsizing and how hard it is to find family members who want our good china, crystal and silverware---or even to sell it. Microwaves and dishwashers have single-handedly (or is it double-handedly?) ended the era of fancy plate settings. Young marriage minded couples no longer registered for crystal goblets, paper-thin butter plates and silver encrusted teaspoons in carefully picked out patterns that, back in our day, we knew we’d own a lifetime. Now, brides and grooms want either plain white or black ceramic or bright colored Fiesta ware that clashes with many of the foods that will be served on them. Hint: If you invite me over for dinner don’t give me strawberry shortcake in an orange bowl unless you’re prepared for me to upchuck on your table. Na, I wouldn’t actually do that but I’d sure write about it behind your back. A girl’s got to get her blog fodder wherever she can. I really do hate orange, though, and the thought of eating off that color does turn my stomach. There's no end to my first world complaints, is there.

We Gathering Girls brought our day planners to Tim Horton’s so we could schedule a get-together away from the senior hall. In two weeks we’re meeting for lunch and then we're going to a near-by consignment mall that sells a little bit of everything---crafts, up-cycled stuff and antiques. One of the Gathering Girls has a new booth in the mall and just hearing her talk about it brings back good feelings of the days when I had booths in antique malls. It can be a lot of fun but it's also a lot of work. I have to keep remembering the latter part lest I put my name on a waiting list to rent a stall. Let’s hope the practical side of my brain keeps overruling the dreamer side. The kinds of things I have left to sell needs a bigger market like eBay than a neighborhood mall. I did so much downsizing in the first three summers after Don died that I’m having trouble working myself up to jumping back into the game.

I want so much out of the coming summer: a skinnier and stronger body, less and newer clothing in my closet, more time spent bonding and hanging out with the Gathering Girls, and downsizing more stuff that no longer makes sense to own. So little time, so much to do and none of my summer goals are easily accomplished not to mention I’ve got to get through all the spring yard and house cleaning and maintenance that comes first. ©

 

I found this googling the word, 'downsizing' and thought it was too cute not to share.