MANEUVERING FOR THE RECIPE DECEMBER 12, 2011
I knew I was going to have a problem conning the Warden out of her precious, secret recipe for AJIACO (Ah-hee-ah-co) Soup with the Colombian herb GUASCAS (Wah-scus) that everyone is clamoring for. It would take a lot of diplomacy on my part so I started the week conversing with the Warden very nice and friendly about how so many of the readers would like for me to write about it — the history of it, the various versions of it, and mainly the RECIPE — I was spreading it on thick.
She was very adamant that she had no interest in telling “all.” Oh, oh, this was not what I wanted to hear — what if she doesn’t give us instructions for the whole thing, leaving out certain items, or adding on items that are never there. But, at last, she agreed to settle it once and for all, using my way of settling. We would arm wrestle, and when she beat me hands down — no surprise there — I announced that she had LOST when she slammed my arm to the corian counter. That did cause quite a stir, but when I quietly told her I may have to make a visit to the Elderly Abuse Society about the black and blue on my hand and forearm where she had made a slam dunk with my appendage on the counter.
So now you can see what I have had to go through in order to bring a serious article to my readers to give them what they want.
Further, I let her in on one of my secrets that I have been working on. I don’t even know how I got up enough courage to do such a thing: I have started a RULE BOOK FOR WARDENS! I let her know in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t the only one who could sit around and make up all these rules to where now that HOME ALONE RULE BOOK has grown to about 400 pages. I have only 1 page with only Rule No. 1: Shoelaces must remain tied at ALL times.
You see, I have been observing that Miss Alba goes around here in the house with her shoe laces flapping around in the breeze. Now wouldn’t one get the picture that this is an accident waiting to happen? Then where would we be? Those cute 9-1-1 people would get a frantic call from me. “No, no it’s not for me, it’s for the Warden” who let one of the cutie-pies take my fake snake and throw to his buddies causing much yelling, and getting them all scared — while I lay neglected on the floor moaning in awful pain.
We’ d be off to the ER at EMC — and while the crew in there was patching and gluing her back together, I would be on Facebook, Twitter, and the Pennysaver trying to latch on to someone to take over where she was leaving off, and step (shoes tightly laced) into the job as Chief Warden.
About the Warden’s Rule Book: I will probably be adding some rules from time to time, but will not tell her what they are.
All of the above has not helped to make that soup with the elusive recipe, but I will persevere to, and then will finally be able to yell: “SOUP’S ON!”