Tuesday, May 31, 2005
The other day, I got a wild hair to make blueberry buckle. Buckle is sort of like a scratch cake with a fruit layer and then a crunchy sweet topping over it all. Anyway, one of W4D's work buds had given us a nice big bowl of freshly picked, local blueberries and I decided I needed, right that second, to make something with those berries.
There was a reason for the urgency. My housekeeper was still upstairs and I reasoned that if I could get the buckle made before she got to the kitchen, I wouldn't need to clean up the flour that I always seem to get everywhere. I figured I had about an hour before she made it downstairs so time was of the essence.
I assembled all the ingredients, and got my little hand mixer out. After all, it was only an 8 inch blueberry buckle and I didn't need that huge, bothersome mixer that has to be assembled, parts gathered from all over the place. I only use the big mixer for big jobs. My little hand mixer would be perfect and fast and I could pop that nice fresh blueberry desert into the oven before it got too hot and not have to clean up the mess to boot. Great plan!
Everything was ready when I noticed that the beater blades were not with the hand mixer. That was odd. I searched the cabinet where I have kept the hand mixer and blades for 23 years. I searched the other cupboards and the utensil drawers. I searched all the places anything could possibly be stashed and no danged beaters anywhere. Now W4D has this obnoxious habit of taking it upon himself to re-arrange my pantry. IF he doesn't like where something is stored, he takes it upon himself to organize MY kitchen stuff to HIS liking. Please be advised that I am the NEAT one. I am the ORGANIZED one. His stuff is never put away, his workshop looks like a disaster area, his car, a refugee camp. He doesn't know how to put clothes in a drawer or to even close a drawer. BUT! if a steenkin' stainless steel pot lid gets in his way when he wants to get out the pancake griddle, he will re-arrange MY whole cupboard so that the danged griddle is in the front, never mind that we might only use that freakin' griddle once per month and I use the pot lids every day. But I digress.
Time was a' waistin' and I had an emergency cooking situation since I could hear the usual occasional crashes as the housekeeper knocked over the chatchkes in the bookcases in the center hall upstairs as she dusted. She's klutzy but we are used to each other and she'd soon be heading downstairs so I got out the flashlight and the kitchen ladder and searched high and then got down on my old sore hands and knees and searched low. I dragged everything out of four different cupboards and cabinets and no fricken beater blades.
That SOBW4D had surely moved my beaters.
By that time, I had been searching and cussing for almost an hour. Have I ever mentioned that I detest baking anyway? Every baking utensil known to mankind was strewn over my kitchen EXCEPT the right beaters. I was livid.
W4D was out of town giving a meeting but I didn't care. I called him on the cell phone and as soon as I heard him say hello, I screamed hysterically,
"Where the f--k are my g-damned beaters?"
W4D inquired calmly, "What are you talking about?"
I ranted and screamed, "I know you moved my f--ing beaters so tell me where they are right now. I have absolutely had it with you!"
W4D was stammering and saying something in a whisper like "Look, I'll have to call you back, I'm in a meeting." So, I screamed at the top of my lungs again,
"I'm asking you one last g-damn time, where the f--k are my beaters?"
It was at that time that I heard a chorus of female voices in the distance say in unison,
"Look in the cabinet."
Arghhhhh! Who knew the voice of an hysterical woman carried that loudly over the cell phone? Is there a speaker on that thing? I hung up. Pronto.
I turned to see the housekeeper leaning on the broom, surveying the ransacked kitchen, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She suggested I just use the big mixer instead. Grrrr. It took me 20 minutes to get everything back in order and I then made the buckle after dragging out all the components for the big mix master machine. The blueberry buckle that I have made so many times before didn't rise and was sad, doughy and all that was salvageable was the top half, no doubt, because I was such a bitch and embarrassed ole W4D in front of a bunch of folks.
I still haven't found my beater blades (I KNOW he MOVED them even if he won't admit it). I refuse to bake anything again until autumn and I really need to quit cussing like a sailor.