For those of us older to remember history lessons at school, I would suppose that most of us would have heard of the Siege of Leningrad, a particularly chilling event where the good people of the area were indeed besieged for 900 days.
For those of us older to remember history lessons at school, I would suppose that most of us would have heard of the Siege of Leningrad, a particularly chilling event where the good people of the area were indeed besieged for 900 days. Count that. 365 goes into that an awful lot doesn’t it?
I read a book – “The Heart Can Wait” – a while back, written by an Australian journalist by the name of Kevin Perkins. I could be seen one summer in the magnificent surroundings of a pristine sandy beach, the Pacific Ocean doing what it does best – being pacific that is – my plush towel on my beach chair, my teeny umbrella attached to same, sobbing audibly over this book. It’s a true story of a young couple deciding to get the hell out of Dodge (i.e. Leningrad) just as the siege started. I won’t spoil it for you – if you can find the book I would urge you to read it.
But I was reminded of it last Friday night. Coming home from work I decided to be intelligent and shop for the weekend before the oncoming storm hit us.
This storm is supposed to be a whopper. Anywhere from a drizzle to – oh, I don’t know – about 43 feet of snow has been forecast. This is winter’s final hurrah, one hopes. It reminds me of my darling husband, Sir – and I suspect a lot of blokes around the joint – who feel the need to pump that extra teaspoonful of gas into the tank when the pump shuts off. One – pump – final – pump – ought – pump – to – pump – fill – pump – it – gasp. Give me strength, serenity now. The tank’s full you idiot! Oh, sorry, got a little carried away there – the pump is full, my darling, light of my life. Well this is the same scenario Old Man Winter is threatening to give us. That last spurt of snow.
So there I was at the local market, along with approximately nine hundred other wise folks, stocking up for the weekend.
I was right there with them. I have a weekend stretching ahead of me with nary to do but to provide supper for MK and her lovely dawg on Sunday night, so this little black duck may not get out of her robe for about 40 hours. My idea of heaven on a stick. Crosswords, books, coffee, heaven, I’m in heaven.
Oh, I went off on a little sidebar there, didn’t I? Anyway, there I was at the store doing what the other hoards were doing, inasmuch as nobody had a list, let alone my soon to be patented list and so everyone was actually quite jolly and not at all frenetic, quite chatty we were in the aisles as we were trying to pair asparagus with Doritos, salad with cinnamon rolls, marshmallows with sardines – having no clue what to cook all weekend, but we were all determined to stock up just in case we need to climb out the attic window – so deep will the snow be – in order to get to work on Monday.
I will now break with tradition and will save up the last half of the column for post Armageddon… we shall see what transpires, shall we? Did Don get it right. Did Gary (a.k.a. Gazza in Aussie speak) hit his 3 degree guarantee warrantee? Stay tuned - the chapter thus endeth in three dots … and begineth in a couple more.
Well that was a doozey, wasn’t it? Sir, naturally, was disheartened as this was the first day of spring for heaven’s sake, and what was all this white stuff? He had mentally prepared himself to go eat breakfast out on the deck to herald in the new season with style, but was somewhat thwarted. Wanting to erect the sun shielding umbrella that very day, it took me a while to convince him that it would probably be a good idea to wait until we actually needed said shading as I didn’t think it would be terribly effective against snow fall.
I could not have been happier. Enrobed I attacked the puzzles with verve, Sir prepared his marvelous eggs for breakfast, I was indeed one happy kitchen-sitter as I watched the snow amass. It never fails to entrance me. Not having grown up with snow I am, 11 years later, still enchanted by falling snow. Not so thrilled to bits about driving in it, but if I’m in a warm comfy spot I adore it.
And of course, I didn’t have to go anywhere did I? I was an intelligent person with my siege mentality, wasn’t I?
All that was left was to present a fabulous repast for MK on Sunday night. I even had doggie dinner on hand, so great was my hoarding.
Out with the pans, in with the garlic, the pepper – even pancetta if you don’t mind. I wasn’t going to stock up on bacon, I needed the good Italian stuff. Freshly grated parmesan. Oh I’m telling you I was a regular Julia Child.
Huge pot of water ready to boil on the stove. Slight screeching halt.
“Hi, MK, it’s Annie,” I spoke to a voice mail. “On your way over, would you mind terribly stopping at the store to buy pasta for me?”
Yes of course, come to dinner – but please bring your own? I must hone up my siege skills.