Tuesday: Doing the dishes

Passion has flown through my life as strong as eagles wings soaring on the wind. It is perhaps the source of my muse and my desire to fully engage in ever thing that I do.

I have never had any desire to be a jelly fish floating on the sea of life with no purpose or reason for existence other than to eat, to reproduce and to die.

And fortunately or unfortunately that same passion is applied to cooking.

As I walked into the kitchen I was amazed that so much chaos had been created in just 24 hours. You know when you are a creative sometimes the mundane in life is just too much distraction so the pots pile up in the sink and the dishwasher stands half empty or half full until someone gets around to turning it on or emptying it.

One particular weekend in late October our friend Patrick came to visit. I had been cloistered in my office with my latest tangent of creative angst and Mark and Patrick were waiting for me to emerge and become a domestic diva. You would think that they would have known better. I finally agreed to fill their stomachs and souls with some Myriam kitchen mojo if they would "do" the dishes.

I wandered back to my office while they were left with the task of doing the dishes so I could come back and do my magic.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Gunshots split the sound of silence.

Shocked I hurried to look outside.

Patrick and Mark were doing the dishes by using them for target practice.

A food soaked blue platter went up in the air. Bang. It disintegrated into the air.

A yellow glass plate went whirling into the sky. Bang. It splintered into a million shards of shimmering gold against the blue of the sky.

Up went a glass wrapped in colors of blue and yellow and red. Bang. Alas no more glass.

I laughed. Turned around and went back to my office.

About an hour later they informed me the kitchen was ready for inspection.

A few less dishes (I always have way to many incase I am inspired to throw a few) but orderly and ready for me to begin a new culinary adventure.

I placed some cheese and fruit on the kitchen bar, handed Mark a bottle of Merlot to open and pour. As the wine began to flow and smiles began to grow bigger, I began to chop up the fresh tomatoes, onions, garlic and cilantro to make a sauce. The fresh talapia was poaching in some white wine. The rice was properly seasoned with my special blend of herbs and spices.

I thought what would make this perfect would be some fresh peas with pearl onions in a white sauce.

I turned to Mark and asked where is the corn starch?

He looked sheepishly at Patrick, and explained it was gone. They had used it to powder their hands so when they did the dishes they would have greater control on the torque of the toss. I never did understand that one.

But to this day, every once in awhile when Patrick is visiting, I have to truly refrain myself from asking them to "do" the dishes.





Myriam Maytorena, M.Ed.
http://myriamsmuse.blogspot.com/
http://manifestreality.com/
http://asknow.com/
You are the Miracle.
“It is one of the commonest of mistakes to consider that the limit of our power of perception is also the limit of all there is to perceive.” - C.W. Leadbeater