Ow

My ring finger on the left hand stings like a sonof after burning it on hot beeswax. This is after melting my (ahem) brassiere with a spark from the match that lit the candle that heated the beeswax. This is after tripping on the edge of a rug and catching myself with the same hand except I hit the board with the nails hammered into it by circles of three to hold the eggs while they dry after I drew designs in hot beeswax on them. Easter, you know. I think it's a better idea if I go sit down and cruise YouTube except I will get up and since I don't make ice because I never use it, go chip off a chunk of permafrost from the manual defrost freezer to hold against my finger which is beginning to swell like a sonof. Son of a bitch, for those of you who remain innocent, and I am proud of you.

No, I don't like ice in my drinks. Only in the hottest of weather days, and then we all benefit from ice. The cats get it in their water dishes, the aquarium gets it if the temp is over 82 degrees; but I buy a bag. The chintzy ice that my refrigerator makes takes forever...but say, what can I complain about, the refrigerator was a hand me down from a once beautiful, good friend who had it in her garage. It works well, very well, but the freezer has a thin shim of a plastic alleged door and so wastes a lot of cold; ice cream is never frozen solid. This is small potatoes, but also a reason I don't bother with ice. I do have a small chest freezer for the seasonal things like wild leeks and farmer's market berries, and that does nicely.

A friend who raised snakes once had a miserable time of it, and had to put down six of the garters. After doing so, he asked if I wanted them to draw. Well sure, but no time today, so I wrapped them tightly in plastic wrap and kept them frozen solid for a week. When the time came I thawed them to draw, but they were so stinky and floppy it was really a lost cause. And sad, poor things.

Anyway, I have microwaved potatoes and am now going to make potato salad in the style of Dorothy, my Mom. If there were two things I would like to be able to replicate, her potato salad and bread stuffing would be the apex, the prize, the summa cum laude of deliciousness.

But you see, after the triad mess of burning/melting/crashing of twenty minutes ago, I am giving myself a sidelong glance to see if really, should I be handling a knife to chop up celery?

Jump in, go for it, nothing gained, etc. Momma, watch over me.