Inherited
Next week, my mom is moving to Kansas City. While this is definitely a good decision for her, selfishly, it’s hard on my heart. I moved to Colorado to be closer to my parents, and starting next week, neither of them will live here anymore. This brings up all sorts of questions and emotions for me, but I’ve learned enough to know that none of these need to be discussed in a public forum.
Sorry, voyeurs.
Instead, let’s talk about the things that I have inherited from her house in the move.
The most important thing is Kodi the 3-legged dog. Yes, our little raisin-eyed tripod, the Toad, now lives with Becca and Greebs and me on Hooker Street. My days of zero responsibility are now a thing of the past, as Becca and I are constantly shuffling dog duties (not to be confused with dog doodies – although, yes, sad to say that those are being shuffled, too).
She is adorable as always, though – and even though I’m now much more tethered to home, and even though she doesn’t really fit into my active lifestyle (she can walk about a quarter of a mile before she’s spent), it’s nice to have someone who’s always happy to see me.
We’ve also laid claim to some killer patio furniture. Last week, I told my friend Kelli that it was made of cast iron. “You mean wrought iron,” she stated more than asked. I was like, “Yeah.”
Now, we don’t exactly live on a picturesque block. We have a dirty weed yard, and some local dogs peed on my basil and mint plants until they were dead. The next-door neighbor’s mutt killed a skunk in their front yard, and the carcass rotted in the hot sun for two weeks. I’m not sure if mere patio furniture is going to, I don’t know, redeem the neighborhood – but it’s sure as hell going to try.
Come over. I’ll mix you a ghetto cocktail.
Finally, all of the things that have hidden in Mom’s pantry? For years? And years? Mine.
If you know me at all, you know that I cannot waste food. I just can’t do it. If food dies, I die. It’s this deep, fundamental part of my soul. You think I’m kidding – but I assure you, I kid thee not. I’m the girl who packs a food box in her suitcase on long trips, just sick at the thought of leaving food behind to rot in the fridge – a waste of my money, a waste of someone’s labor, a waste of, I don’t know, a cow.
I will avenge your death, cow.
Anyway, I now have more canned goods, spices, and non-perishables than I know what to do with. Apple butter? Kidney beans? Chicken stock? Red chile marmalade? Canned meat? Jars of chutney? Two gigantic canisters of Pam? If you have ideas for how I can put this stuff to good use, do tell.
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I really don’t want to say it, but I feel I have to – this post is almost Ruth-ian in its food thriftiness.
Depending on the flavor of chutney, you could make a stuffed pork loin or chicken breast.
ZERO IDEAS for canned meat. Take them hiking?
As for the red chili marmalade, pair it with a cheese and baguette for a lovely hors d’oeuvre. A creamy goat cheese would work, but maybe try something bolder, like a gouda? Thank goodness you love cheese as much as I, and this advice doesn’t fall on deaf ears.
xo
Stock + kidney beans + veggies = soup
Apple butter + zucchini bread = yum!
Pam + all baked goods = essential
Canned meat + apocalypse = still disgusting
Toss it. Please.
I will never forget the day you told me to move to Kansas City. It was the thing that made the most sense to you. It stung just a little. And, although we are both quite stoic, it KILLS me to leave my beautiful daughters who reside in the Hooker House. It wasn’t meant to be this way. All it means, however, is that I will be back to see you more frequently than you will want, and I’ll STAY with you – rearranging all those cans of kidney beans and tomato paste. Seriously,canned meat is canned CHICKEN…use like tuna in sandwiches or with pita chips. I had it as a COSTCO sample and bought a whole 12 pack!
I do think that things work out the way they are supposed to, and I hope you continue to enjoy your life in CO.
I adopted a puppy, this summer. She is quite a bit more energetic than your pup, it sounds like – the extra leg helps :). I definitely understand the 0 -> 60 in no time, in terms of taking on responsibility!
i took a gulp of water when i was reading the ‘picturesque block’ paragraph, and my giggles almost caused me to sputter water all over my computer screen. thanks for the laughs.
i hope to visit you and becca at the hooker house someday.
As instructed!!!
Canned chicken + mayo + your favorite salsa + fresh mango. Mix, and add to your grilled cheese (before you grill it, obvi!)
Maybe it was the lack of protein in Haiti, but that stuff is GOOD!
Okay, I take it back. Canned CHICKEN is way, way, way different than canned “meat.” Tons of options for chicken salad… and will probably be handy in the apocalypse.
Can I get the recipe for “ghetto cocktail?” :) Or can you possibly use the red chili marmalade to make one such concoction? (BTW – your mom cannot hold a candle to me with my pantry… I’m ready for a holocaust!)
Just letting you know publicly that I am praying for you in your private struggle.