The Odds, The End

I would tell two stories. Both of them require visualization, though, and I don’t have enough time to describe what happened. Let’s just say that my Big Night started off with two big cans that needed to be opened and no can opener on the premises, and then a few hours later I pulled the last casserole out of the oven and it promptly decided to plate itself on the floor. Some of it. Maybe a third.

And none of this mattered, other than to give me fodder for my personal version of I Love Lucy. Everything would have been fine with a little forethought (I know this kitchen fairly well, but I’ve never had to open a can or even boil water there) and just bringing along a few handy items (pots and pans, a can opener).

There was plenty of food at any rate, fortunately much of it provided by a caterer who had some extra dishes of enchiladas and pot pies. I only had mostly side dishes, plus the casserole that took a dive. And despite the bumps, there’s nothing like feeding people. It sounds noble to say that we get more out of the experience than the people who come by for a decent meal. We still do. All of us. Just FYI, then.


We haven’t had a big snow (anything more than a dusting, maybe an inch) in a few years. It looks pretty likely that we’re getting some starting tonight. Possibly a fair amount, although that’s still in the realm of uncertainty. And it could be another bust; this is just the nature of the Pacific Northwest, not our meteorologists. Cold? Sure, we get it. Moisture? Of course. Together? Doesn’t work that way most of the time. May not this time.

But it may, and wouldn’t that be fun?

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