As comforting sameness is; it’s also well…same. A bit of difference in doing things or even contemplating it can give your brain a boost of sorts.
A friend who’s a horror movie afficianado and I decided to watch a movie last night; midweek movies have a fun factor that weekend ones don’t. Our fun was more because it was really comfortable in her house with the squishy couch, big screen tv and the glass of wine. The movie…eh…not so much.
Anyhoo, instead of running down the movie in my usual verbose manner, I decided to try and be a bit more tongue-in-cheek and still get my point across. I pulled out a “scary” template on Canvas and found a font I thought would go well and voila! the first movie review poster was born.
Expect more, many, many more of these Rev-Pos since the idea’s running amok in my head and I’m hiding out from my kid (it’s his holidays…)
During the lockdown we didn’t have access to the people who come and clean the house and cook for us. And while it might seem like a very lah-dee-dah kind of a thing, to have a cook *and* a cleaning lady, it’s par for course in India where more blue collar workers abound and it’s a easy and sustainable source of income for a multitude of women who need to earn to keep their families going.
I’m at best, a competent cook. By which I mean I rarely burn stuff and it’s usually not over-salted. I don’t do nicely plated up stuff and people rarely ask for a repeat performance. I’m at best an “eat-my-food-and-you-wont-die” kinda cook. But during the last 2+ months when the kitchen has been under my control, the oil consumption has been lesser than usual, the gas cylinder has lasted longer and NO ONE came down with food poisoning! I’d be batting a thousand if everything I cooked was uber delicious as well.
While drawing up a menu chart to help cut down on time taken to think about what to cook daily, I realized that as a family we chiefly consume cottage cheese (paneer), potatoes, peas, carrots, bell peppers, eggs and chicken. Tomatoes and onions are primarily used for making a gravy. Cabbages and okra are slightly outside the core area and every other vegetable is largely negligible because either TO doesn’t eat it or Red sniffs at it like a bomb/drug-sniffing dog before deciding if he wants to eat what’s cooked or not. Rarely though, he gets the chance to make this face…
But all my semi-fake self-deprecating humor aside, we have a lot. A LOT. And plenty of times we just indulge. And while it’s nice to get the family to taste different types of food, for the most part we have our preferences chalked out and we’re sticking with that- good ol’fashioned comfort food which is not cordon bleu or terribly artistically plated up. It just goes down the hatch, followed by a satisfied burp. Amen!
Am sniffly, have a stuffy nose and my head feels like it’s full of rocks.
Once I gave TO his afterschool snack, I made myself a cuppa joe and leaned into the cup in DEEEEP appreciation. The brat looked at me contemplatively and asked, ” You love coffee more than me and P (Red) don’t you?
I told him, with my nose still vacuuming up the coffee aroma, that coffee helped me love him and Red just a little bit more.
Who’s going to tell a 10 year old that the Almighty Bean kept his mother from going loco on a *very* regular basis. I just LOVE euphemisms, don’t you?
Well his character, of Martin something or the other in Sleeping With The Enemy, had it right. There’s no reason why things can’t be kept in a particular (I mean PROPER) way. Just no reason at all. Barring the fact that Bergin (lovely old stud that he is) did play the role of a psychopath, his insistence on a neat and tidy order to things is something I appreciate. And how!
When I thought about having my own place, and my own kitchen in particular, I knew the size would be a toss-up. I wasn’t going to get my studio apartment with a wee loft for the bed and an open kitchen. I did however want a kitchen a la country rustic and pretty with glass jars labelled with blackboard paint labels, all facing the same way so it’s easy to know if you’re reaching for the dill instead of the rosemary or parsley or the powdered cumin vs the powdered coriander. If only everything was a dead giveaway like chilly powder and turmeric, then we’d be gravy!
But with more people using the kitchen and in their own ways, it was deemed best (with a lot of difficulty…look down to understand the extent of the difficulty and you’ll know what I mean) that we stick with plastic, Tupperware and other things which may not be aesthetic and terribly eco-friendly but more than earn their keep by being big-time user friendly.
I also like the idea of hand towels and face towels being used for… well the hand and the face…DUH ! rather than a bigass beach towel being used to wipe a tiny portion of one’s body. I can blame my father for this bit of idiosyncrasy outright because that’s what he instilled in me..there’s a grammar to everything aka the madness aint madness if you can justify it. So I justified it BIG TIME- matching sets of hand towels, face towels and bath towels. Each one neatly hanging on the rod and the spares nicely rolled up next to a small dish filled with potpourri. And it is nice too…for all of 30 minutes. Then the dinos eat the potpourri or else they end up rummaging in it and for a bathroom that stocks up 2-3 towels of each size, there’s usually nothing around when you enter it.
The loves of your life go and use the bath towel to wipe their faces and horror of horrors…either leave it on the bed, on the back of a chair or just leave it to slink to the bathroom floor in an untidy crumple.
And so it goes…you become used to necessity over emotions at times. Until one day you find the nth damp towel on the ground when it just takes a teensy second to make sure it’s properly put back on the towel rod…and you have a mini eruption inside. And the you remember Patrick Bergin’s steely eyed, cold-smiled demeanor towards Julia Robert’s handling of hand towels and think…this guy really knew what he was doing!!
And then you think back to HOW long it took you to get the offspring to wipe his hands and face at all, let alone not wipe them on his clothes or on you and you figure you have a few more years to go before you break out the full-fledged psycho mode. Or do you?..
I’ve been telling the offspring to buckle down and do a couple of things but being a parent means leading by example (or so we pretend we do) so I’m going to try and hit a few targets of my own. Expect grumblings from time to time.
I want to blog more. I love to write and I’m not picky about what I choose to write about. I’m usually reading something or the other, thinking about doing something and make plans for future trips and travels galore ergo loads of food for thought or bloggy material.
So this is going to be my honey-do list/things-to-do/bucket-list galore and inshallah by 31st December, I’d have done at least 100 consecutive blog/bloglets and been able to cross things off on the ever-growing lists that my brain throws up and Red ducks very nimbly.
And on that note I felt a gaze searing to me and looked up to see MLM staring at me. Locking gazes me with he said” Cookie”. Brief. To the point and hungry.
So here I go to get him a cookie. Come back tomorrow for day two of my A.B.A.D challenge.
Before I’d discovered the joys of blogging on WP, I was on Blogger and Facebook was kind enough to remind me that I published this- http://bouncyrambler.blogspot.in/2012/05/if-harry-potter-were-real.html?m=1 a while back.
It’s a nod to my love for Harry Potter and the one person who occupies my thoughts almost 24/7-MLM.