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So, I'm putting away some pans, and as usual the avalanche flows out of the cupboard, reminding me that this time I'll have to pull everything and resort it. Never fails that...I can get rid of half my pots, come up with the ultimate organizational scheme, and it lasts about two days.
So as the cookie sheets wrestle with me I notice the pancake griddle; one of those infamous big cast-iron buggers that goes across two burners, takes forever to heat up and cool down, and requires no oil because the grease of the ages saturates it. Just like mom had :)
I didn't buy this; maybe nobody bought it; it just coalesced out of some Platonic pancake griddle back in the Roman era. But as far as I know, its geneology runs thus: Dan G. heads off to IBM and bequeaths half his kitchen stuff to me. Prior to that, Ben L. does pretty much the same thing to Dan. I suspect it was camping gear or something for Ben's family. Now, of course, I've made twin mistakes: on the one hand, I brought it with me instead of stranding it in Alpha 4. On the other, since then I have stayed put and the roommates leaving haven't picked it up, I now live alone with nobody to foist it on. Perhaps I should leave it as a surprise for the next tenants, but then they wouldn't experience the rich history it embodies. Can't pick it up without being reminded of Dan and Ben, neither of whom I've seen for a few years.
Is there a point to all this? Well, you can make something up about how people touch your life but it's really more of an excuse to delay cleaning up the kitchen for a few minutes. Excuse me.
So as the cookie sheets wrestle with me I notice the pancake griddle; one of those infamous big cast-iron buggers that goes across two burners, takes forever to heat up and cool down, and requires no oil because the grease of the ages saturates it. Just like mom had :)
I didn't buy this; maybe nobody bought it; it just coalesced out of some Platonic pancake griddle back in the Roman era. But as far as I know, its geneology runs thus: Dan G. heads off to IBM and bequeaths half his kitchen stuff to me. Prior to that, Ben L. does pretty much the same thing to Dan. I suspect it was camping gear or something for Ben's family. Now, of course, I've made twin mistakes: on the one hand, I brought it with me instead of stranding it in Alpha 4. On the other, since then I have stayed put and the roommates leaving haven't picked it up, I now live alone with nobody to foist it on. Perhaps I should leave it as a surprise for the next tenants, but then they wouldn't experience the rich history it embodies. Can't pick it up without being reminded of Dan and Ben, neither of whom I've seen for a few years.
Is there a point to all this? Well, you can make something up about how people touch your life but it's really more of an excuse to delay cleaning up the kitchen for a few minutes. Excuse me.