Being an easily distracted person can get one in trouble and I remember being roundly scolded by my father when I was little, for forgetting that I was supposed to be fetching him a glass of water or something as I wandered off, his request quite easily forgotten. I guess the attention deficit must have been pretty bad if it warranted him putting a little clause in his daily prayer, exhorting the Almighty to intercede on my behalf.
But I can’t help laughing a little at myself sometimes as I register my own distraction and continue to go about multi-tasking through my housewifely day.
Today my body has not been very successful in fighting off the allergens (which I am beginning to suspect are due to mold spores rather than Fuzzy) and I awoke early, my bronchiolar passages blocked.
I have been told of the beneficial uses of honey as an expectorant, and tried sipping a honeyed mug of hot water to see if it had any effect, but no go, the inhaler had to be used.
So after a very lazy start to the day, during which I succumbed to the will of the internet gods, I was prodded into making breakfast by a hungry Huz. A packet of wheat thins with my mug of tea works just fine, but Huz being a manly man needs his protein fix.
Anyways, it was 11 am already, and he was beginning to look a bit woebegone by now. I’m a bit dazed due to lack of oxygen in my brain, and the last thing I want to do is make breakfast. All I want to do is sit somewhere very quietly…..and breathe.
Two days of hard labour though have not been very good for my right forearm muscles, and I contemplated this as I thought of the kind of eggs I would make for him. An omelette would require the chopping of onions and tomatoes into tiny pieces, not possible with an achy forearm….
But why (I wondered as my gaze wandered) was the assortment of empty jars and jam bottles lying there on the counter taking up unnecessary space since so many days?
‘Right, time to put those away in the cabinet’, I thought, as I climbed atop a footstool in order to reach the place where I store such things.
That done, I glimpsed the bowl of the food processor sitting needlessly all by its lonesome, unused for days (taking up unnecessary space) so while I was up on that footstool, I thought I might as well put that away as well.
The blender/food processor storage space is rather cramped, so things have to be manoeuvred rather carefully in there lest something fall to the ground and break.
Which is why my lazy self had been postponing the putting away of the food processor bowl for so many days after making the damned pesto.
I congratulated myself on a job well done, and remembered why I had come into the kitchen in the first place. Oh yes, breakfast for Huz.
But wait, what are these wet towels doing on the floor, next to the washing machine? How very messy. We can’t have that.
So I carried them over to the balcony and hung them all out to dry, and while doing that I noticed how very blue the sky looked today. The sun was shining promisingly and I didn’t think it would rain at all. A good time to put a batch of clothes in the wash!
Gathering up a load of sorted clothes (a batch of mostly pink, red and orange) I put them in the washing machine, not a minute of sunshine to be wasted.
Alright then, time to tackle those eggs. Four should be enough to tide us through to lunch, and it would be a late one considering how slow and lazy and wheezy I was….
A little red chilli powder and some salt was added to the eggs and whisked with a bit of milk, when I had the bright idea of putting some fresh chopped basil into the mix…..
Since I was still in my nightgown, I had to fetch myself a shirt to wear on top of it before making my way down the stairs to the courtyard where I keep my pots of basil and cut a nice leafy stalk.
Then back to the kitchen to rinse the leaves, chop them up, whisk them into the eggs and……oh wait…I forgot to warm up the saucepan….
Saucepan on the stove, a bit of cooking oil poured in, but before I pour in the eggs…….where’s the bread? It must be put in the toaster BEFORE scrambling the eggs or else the eggs will get cold while the bread is toasting. Can’t have that!
Ultimately of course, the eggs turned out perfect and the bread was toasted simultaneously and we had a warm fulfilling breakfast before going off on our separate missions of the day…
Somehow or the other, everything always gets done, doesn’t it?
I’m glad Zahooran was there yesterday though, to scrub the blackened bottom of the cooker after I burnt half the chickpeas that I had left on the stove while I wandered off to reorganize my wardrobe….
But I will have you know that I managed to make something very yummy out of the buttery soft chickpeas that were salvaged….and they didn’t taste burnt at all.