Friday the thirteenth never bothers me. Black cats . . . no problem . . . unless there's a white stripe running down the middle of their backs. Now, mirrors may be another thing. Monday I broke a HUGE mirror in my bedroom. Jokingly, I said to my husband, "20 years bad luck."
This month big thing are happening. My only daughter and her family are moving, lock, stock, and barrel, eight-hundred miles away. And, as my two sons are both celebrating birthdays, we decided to have a going-away/birthday party.
Mom would bring lasagna. Of course, it had to be special. I bought the very best ingredients. Italian pulm tomatoes, fresh Italian parsley, fresh basil, fresh garlic, fresh mushrooms, a big Spanish onion, some red and green bell peppers for roasting. I shopped early to start the sauce. It cooked for hours while I went about my business. Meanwhile, something I've never done . . . the roasted peppers . . . not just charred . . . burned crisp.
Time to refrigerate the sauce. Pouring the sauce into a container . . . the WHOLE pan spilled . . . not just on the floor. Sauce splashed into the cabinet under the counter. It splattered onto the back wall of the cabinet, onto and under the shelves, inside and around three intricate hinges of the Lazy Susan. It splashed all over the counter, canisters, stove and kitchen rug. Every pot, pan and appliance was be-splattered with red stuff.
A tooth brush was necessary to get all the nooks, crannies and holes of the hinges. A long, skinny bottle brush was required to clean under shelves, around corners and in crevises. It was not designed by anyone who considered it might need serious cleaning.
It was several hours before the kitchen was even close to normal.
We ate out.
My husband thanked the Kitchen God he didn't do it.
In the morning when the sun was brightly shining, I found missed spots, thousands. And, surprise! The bottom drawer of the stove held what seemed like two more cups of the red stuff. Some dried up but some still damp. The metal drawer guides were where the dried stuff was to be found and "fun" to clean off with yet another toothbrush.
Another batch of sauce was needed between presents, cleaning and a dentist visit. This time, dried parsley, canned tomatoes with basil and frozen chopped onions. Tempted though I was, I did not use Ragu.
Sauce safely simmering, I made my way to the dentist. Sitting comfortably in the dentist chair and with my mouth filled with hose, cotton and fingers, I happened to glance down at my shoes and what to my horror do I see; little dots of spaghetti sauce all over my shoes!
