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Dee Blue waves
I'm planning to post Justice chapter 4 later tonight, but first I have to go to the gym and the vitamin shop, and then come home and make dinner for my husband.

I spent the morning making broccoli-cauliflower soup and working on Justice 5. The soup turned out totally awesome (oof!), and was so easy to make. That oof sound was me patting myself on the back.  Those of you who have been reading my journal regularly may have perhaps noticed an unbecoming lack of modesty whenever I talk about my culinary skills. I know, but I can't change. I'm good at so few things that I can't afford to play any of them down. Besides, I've always found false modesty in others vaguely annoying.

Anyway, I was not always the kitchen-wizard that I am now. I was a really terrible cook for years, and not only that, I was a danger to myself and others. I've made every mistake in the kitchen that a human being could possibly make. Yes, that was me who put the pizza in the oven, cardboard box and all, and put lettuce in a saucepan on high without any water in it. (It was supposed to be cabbage, but they were both green and round and my mind was on other things). The only thing I've never done is set the kitchen on fire. That time when flames were shooting out of the oven didn't count, because I closed the oven and the flames extinguished themselves when they ran out of oxygen.

I tell you all this in the hopes of getting the message across that whatever it is you suck at can be improved with practice. As long as the interest or need is there, you'll keep doing it and you'll inevitably get better.

Adios for now! I'll be posting the chapter most likely around 8 pm pacific time,

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Your oven episode hit a funny spot in my memory.
It was my birthday many years ago - the kids were still in high school. They decided to make dinner for me as a surprise. Well, I got a surprise, all right.

I pulled up in front of the house to see fire engines, firemen, fans, all sorts of flashing red lights, and two of my children standing on the curb, hands behind their backs, grinning from ear to ear.

After the, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO? was taken care of, they explained what happened.

My daughter, honor student, chemistry major, and fifth in her class, had put an oily meat on a flat tray in the oven. The oil had run off, and since we have - no had - a gas stove, it ignited.

The real beauty of this is that they poured water onto an oil fire to try to extinguish it. Any lowly chem major knows you don't do that. They filled the house with black smoke and killed the stove.

I guess I was lucky that they remembered to call the fire department. But I really didn't want a new stove for my birthday. I liked the old one.

To this day my younger son doesn't make things in the oven. He's not chancing it, even with more practice.

Oh my God, your experience beats mine! Imagine hearing the sirens and then finding out they're all at your house. And your kids had the nerve to be grinning. Maybe it was nervous grinning. But I bet the cooking was all yours from then on.

I understand your younger son's feelings. I won't touch the barbecue for the same reason. I singed my hair and eyebrows and had to endure a red, slightly burned face for a few days wayyy back when I made my very first attempt to barbecue something, and since then I won't eat anything barbecued unless someone else cooks it for me. This is sad, because I love barbecued food. I once had a barbecued lettuce! It was amazing, So smokey and tasty. I wish that restaurant hadn't closed down.

Well, I won't frighten you with his encounters with the barbeque grill. We lost one patio canopy to his burgers. I lost count of how many times he singed his eyebrows and arm hairs. Luckily, he has improved on the outdoor grilling.

Older son has his own idiosyncrasies. He roasts hot dogs on the kitchen stove(gas, of course), much to his wife's objections. Skewers them on a fork and holds them in the flame, for that 'year-round' barbeque flavor. Occasionally does marshmallows too.

And daughter's Other Half - well, if the flames aren't 5 feet high, it ain't a barbeque!

How scary! I hope everyone who was under the flaming canopy scooted out from under it in time.

You know, I don't have any flames on my oven. It's electric, rather than gas. I know gas is superior because all the chefs have gas stoves on the Food Network. But I'm scared of flames! My teeny-tiny fish oven that was part of my 'gas table' when I lived in Japan scared the hell out of me. I got a microwave and a rice cooker with a timer and never looked back.

You guys are too funny! I don't have any kitchen disaters like that but it's been so long my mind is hazy. I brought a cook book and used my in-laws as guinea pigs.

I wasn't taking any chances because whenever I use a knife I draw blood. And whatever I cooked was over done. Looking forward to the new chapter.

Jeez, you sound like me in my first few years of attempting to cook, but minus the cookbook. And I used my long-suffering friends as guinea pigs.

New chapter's now up, after a few difficulties!

*giggle* Ah, that brings back memories. Actually, I could've done so much worse, and I did learn my lesson with each mistake.

For example, you don't put one of those plastic microwaveable pans on a gas range oven and actually expect it to not melt or catch on fire (I was babysitting for the neighbors...lucky me, I only owed them a new pan, rather than an entire stove).

And you never, ever put foil in the microwave. Lots of pretty lights when it started sparking, not so cool when it "blew up" and died on me. Mom was not pleased with me after that.

I can cook basics now, but I've never been really interested in learning to cook, except perhaps as a vague interest for sometime in the distant future, when I have the time and the money to be able to spend all day cooking...then I'll experiment. Until then, I'm a freezer to oven kind of gal. :)

So, yeah, better end this now before mom hears me laughing and reminds me of a few other culinary disasters that I'm sure I've blocked completely from my mind by now. :D Looking forward to your update later!

I was a freezer to microwave kind of gal for years-- it seemed safest. Before I was married, my stove wouldn't get used for weeks at a time. But then I acquired a husband who said that he would clean if I cooked, and because I hate cleaning with a hot, flaming, powerful hatred, whereas at that time, I was merely a teensy bit intimidated by cooking, I took him up on it. It has to be said that at the time I married him, I could actually cook several things reasonably well, most of the time, even though I still preferred the microwave. it's only been in the last four years or so that I graduated from the stove-top to the oven. Now I bake and roast without fear.

I once put a really old, as in antique, bowl in the microwave to heat up some perogies and the damn thing got so unbelievably hot that merely by grasping it for a second with my index finger and thumb, I experienced incredible pain and had to hop around the kitchen howling for at least five minutes! The pain just would NOT die away. My husband came running in from the TV room and was really quite sweet. I appreciated his not laughing at me or minimizing my pain, even though it was my own damn fault.

But you know, I have great faith that you'll become an excellent cook someday (like moi, *coff, coff*)when you are sufficiently motivated by some external factor, like kids, or nine people coming to dinner!

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I got 'em, thanks! I expect you're in bed now. I hope you're having happy dreams.

You were so brave to hit your fire with a towel. I'm very afraid of fire. My father got me a fire extinguisher for my kitchen, which I haven't so far had to use. I hope I never need it, but sometimes I worry that I won't be able to figure it out in time.

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