You Get in the Kitchen
My right hand must hate me at this point. More specifically, the fingers on my right hand. Remember when I chopped into my right index finger whilst opening a knife a couple of months ago? Or did I not mention that? Well, I scalded the shit out of my right middle finger, just below the nail, cooking this afternoon. It hurts like a son of a bitch. Seriously, I’d rather go through the chopping thing again than sit here and deal with this. The internet tells you to place the burn in cool water for a length of time and then to put cling film or a plastic bag on it. The cool water was fine but if I use plastic, I feel like the damn finger is on fire.
Clearly this is a sign that I should stop cooking. After all, the only reason I’d bought a nice new knife that would then be used to carve into my damned index is that I’d started to cook again. Today I was making a squid ink shrimp pasta dealie for lunch and stupidly scalded the finger. And the pasta, while good, wasn’t remarkable or worth the pain. It was basically purple pasta with some weirdly crunchy shrimp and a bit of spice. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it, but I won’t ask for it again.
I’m still enjoying my weekends in the country working on the house. This time we took down some sheet rock and put some up as well as took out ever more nails from walls. Oh, and on Friday night I chased the pig around because she was getting to places she shouldn’t be and no one was outside with me and I could hear the coyotes. Eventually I had to pound on the window to get the Bat and his friend to come out and help me. One wonders what the neighbors must think because I was yelling “Lucifer!” and “help!”, trying to stop Lucifer the dog from running (as it encourages the pig) whilst also hoping the Bat or his mom would hear me and come help me. And let me tell you, that little pig is much more a demon than that dog. Bitch straight up attacked Lucifer and wouldn’t let him run away. She also went after Bailey, the oldest dog in the world, which is akin to straight-lining an old person who is traveling down the sidewalk in a motorized wheelchair. Seriously, you don’t fuck with a sweet dog like Bailey who can hardly move. Even the Bat’s mom, who doesn’t like Lucifer, yelled at the pig and told her she started it and that if she went after Bailey again, she’d have the shovel coming right after her little pig behind.
Saturday was the longest day ever. The Bat was hungover and I was just dead tired so the day seemed like it was actually two separate days. The Bat and his friend had gone on a second run to Home Depot for some supplies and I’d asked Bat’s parents “it’s Saturday, right?” because for a moment I wasn’t sure. Meanwhile, the Bat referenced “yesterday” to the cashier and his friend had to say “uhm, no man, that was this morning.” But we got a lot done and the house is really coming along. One really weird thing happened though. Well, not weird but discomfitting. The Bat’s parents went to look at a tractor they are going to buy while the Bat and his friend were taking naps and I was reading. All of a sudden, shortly after they’d left, there was a knock on the door and the person just went ahead and opened the door and said “hi!!!” The Bat’s friend was actually in the living room, which has the front door, trying to sleep, so it was awkward for him and I think the people genuinely felt bad. The lady introduced herself and I recognized the name and realized it was the realtor. After getting permission from the Bat (as the only family member in attendance), I let them in to see what we had gotten done so far. When she got home, the Bat’s mother said “oh, yeah, I knew she was going to come over but I didn’t know when. I guess I should have told you.” She does that a lot, the Bat’s mom does, telling me things after the fact (like how that one burner doesn’t really work right, which I discovered after turning it on and having a mass of flames spark up).
This Friday I have a half day at work so that I can get my car taken care of and get Bubbles to the vet in preparation for our road trip to Flagstaff, Arizona. I have a feeling Friday is going to be here before I know it.