The other day while foraging for dinner I rolled down the aisle containing pickles, peppers and preserved stuff when I spied a tall jar of green olives stuffed with pimentos. Large olives looking very nice indeed.
In the basket they went.
Fast forward to last night. I’m preparing dinner, feeling a little peckish and rediscover the olives in the fridge.
Mmmmmm, olives! I think I have a couple or three while I cook. I open the jar, fish out four giant olives, pop two in my mouth and chomp down. I was not prepared for what followed.
Fire in the hole! What th’…? I chewed faster hoping to stamp out the fire. My lips were welded shut and I started to sweat on the top of my head. Milk, I need milk!
Holy volcano, what were those things? Calmer, now, I checked out the label and read:
Large Spanish Olives
And in very small print the following:
Extremely Hot Stuffed With Whole Chilies
Not pimentos, whole chilies. No kidding! Man, those things were dangerous. They needed a large warning label; maybe a government warning. Those could hurt somebody. Sometimes it pays to read the small print.
I ate four more and did the Hot Chili Dance around the kitchen.
I looked for Sandy the Cat all morning. I checked out his favorite haunts and places he goes when he wants to hide. He was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he was outside, but I doubt it because he hangs around the yard and would be easy to spot. No Sandy.
Nobbs the Cat, though, was ready for breakfast. He came in, trotted over to the cat bowl and sat patiently for me to fix something tasty. I decided to give him some of the new Cat Chow we bought the other day, which Sandy had thoughtfully opened for us, scattering a quarter of the contents around the kitchen floor. We keep our Cat Chow in a large, plastic jar which is large enough to hold an entire sack of Cat Chow. The jar keeps the food fresh, makes it easy to dispense into the bowls and is gnaw-proof, unlike the Cat Chow bags as Sandy has demonstrated to us on several occasions.
I didn’t even have to open the bag this time. I poured the chow into the jar through the hole that Sandy made; it was just the right size.
Rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, and on and on and on…finally done.
“Here you go, Nobbs old boy,” I said as I turned around to fill his bowl, “fresh Cat Chow!”
I looked down and Nobbs was gone. Sandy was sitting there looking expectant. Nobbs apparently got tired of waiting and went to sleep on one of the kitchen chairs. Sandy, who can hear food being prepared 10 miles away had slinked out from his hiding place and sneaked into the kitchen. He sat there looking up at me, waiting.
I filled the cat bowl, looked at Sandy and said “Yes, Master, anything else you desire?”
Sandy, nose in the bowl, twitched his tail.
When it comes to packing for a trip I’m not too efficient. I don’t like packing so I’ll do just about anything to avoid it until the last minute. So, there I was “packing” and looking out the window.
“Stupid squirrels,” I thought, “Look at them running around the yard chasing each other and picking up acorns. They drop as many as they pick up.”
The squirrels were “squirreling away” their cache of nuts for the winter. It was 90 degrees. The squirrels were running around, picking up acorns and burying them all over the place. Not in one big cache, but in lots of little places. Stupid squirrels.
I picked up the camera I was going to take on the trip and remembered that it needed new batteries. I went to the battery drawer, also known as the Junk Drawer, and spent a minute or so in a fruitless search for a couple of AA cells.
None to be found, but not a problem. I recall having stashed a 4-pack in my sock drawer some months ago “just in case.” They were still there and I fished out a couple for my camera.
Rats, I was nearly out of travel toothpaste. I had meant to buy some more, but forgot. Fortunately, I had a spare tube I hid in the spare room medicine cabinet for just such an occasion. I ran upstairs and, yep, there it was undiscovered.
Oh, and before I leave I need to mail a couple of birthday cards but we used the last stamp the other day and I forgot to stop by the Post Office for a refill. Not to worry, I keep a few spare stamps in my briefcase. I walked across the house to the front room, pulled my briefcase out of the cupboard and there in the secret pocket were 4 stamps; I only needed two. Perfect!
Whew, all this running around worked up a bit of a thirst and a cold beer would go down well about now. Casting my mind back to last night I dimly recall a voice saying something like “oh, that’s the last beer. Try to remember to pick up a 6-pack the next time you’re out shopping.” But, I hadn’t been shopping since then. However, I always keep a spare beer in the hydrator behind the lettuce and under the zucchini. Nobody would look there. I walked back across the house, into the kitchen, rummaged through the hydrator and, sure enough, found my emergency beer.
I poured myself a glass of beer, sat at the kitchen table and looked out the window. The squirrels were still at it picking up acorns and hiding them all around the yard.
I chuckled as I watched them. Stupid squirrels.