On Betrayal, Shakespeare, & Spoons

I had had enough.  My trust was destroyed.  Public humiliation and pain had become as common as a miserable cold.  The time had come for action; execution was swift and without prejudice.

...one from Williams Sonoma ('cause that's all I could afford there) and another from TJMaxx. Go me.

The Thomas’ had come over for dinner and, as I was proudly (“pride goeth before the burnt fingers…”) pulling two of the most gorgeous roasted chickens from the oven, my flesh singed and I yelped in proper bad-puppy fashion.  My trusty old mitts had given up their ghosts…at the most inconvenient time: when I had a hand-full of 450 degree pan.  Under a cold tap, my fingers did protest, my reddened skin shouting testimony against the failed and impotent heat-resistance that was nowhere to be found.

Somewhere across the pond, Shakespeare and Poe bisected their skeletal necks with worm-ravaged fingers, signaling the universal recommendation of doom.  “Death! Death to the lazy oven mitts!”, they cried from their graves.

Really.  You should’ve heard them.  It was kind of creepy.


I trashed my old oven mitts and the new ones were necessary.

This other stuff…

…well, I just wanted it.

a new spoon. For six bucks, its possibilities are shiver-inducing. 😀
"Food and Friends" by Simone Beck. Yes...THAT Simone Beck. 🙂
"Julia's Kitchen Wisdom"
"The Cook and the Gardner"

2 thoughts on “On Betrayal, Shakespeare, & Spoons

  1. Ok Yert that was too funny! It almost made me pee in a public place…I hope Starbucks will let me back in someday…

  2. I’m sure Starbucks will let you back in. You are, as am I, a Most Valued Customer who Gives Them Lots of Money and otherwise Supports Their Over-Priced and Under-Caffeinated Arsses.

    …you’ll be fine.

    However, Toy will never let you live down your urinary incontinence. …trust me…


    Glad you enjoyed the post. 🙂 Now go make everyone you know read it…at gun point, if necessary. Love ya!

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