Tis the Seasoning

In preparation for the familial infestation ... er ... visitation, I've been cleaning everything in sight. The cats have no idea what is going on and they are less than happy. They are in full defensive mode while both the Roomba and the vacuum have been running for the last two days. Well, if the grrllzz would stop shedding and hit the boxes a little more consistency and not drop crumbs in a six-foot radius around the dish when they eat and stop giving the food back in chewed form just because they're a little rumbly in the tummy maybe this cleaning thing wouldn't be quite so traumatic for all of us.

But I should stop dissing the furballs. I am only slightly more fastidious than they are. In fact, the only difference between them and myself is that I don't vomit in random places around the house. Yesterday I cleaned out the fridge in anticipation of and preparation for the influx of fresh food and new leftovers to fill the cavernous space. In order to fill the space, one must first find the space. This is scary. I've seen things come out of my fridge that would make tough guys cry. That old line about "set it free; if it returns to you it is yours" doesn't apply when UWOs (unidentified walking objects) drop off the second shelf and stroll away under their own power. It is best to just let 'em go.

I now know what evolution holds for carrots and other root vegetables. It isn't pretty. Nor does it involve these items remaining firm. The future is similarly depressing for green peppers and cucumbers. These thrown-away-more-than-eaten items are the sublimators of the vegetable world. Just like dry ice bypasses a liquid stage on its way from frozen to gas, as peppers and cukes break down, they turn directly from a solid into a liquid, bypassing the mushy stage. And the transformation is pretty much instantaneous. I buy the veggies. I put the veggies in the fridge. I go to bed. I wake up to a green puddle in the crisper drawer. I swear to zeus that the guy who lives in the fridge and turns the light on and off goes at the veggies with a sledge hammer when I close the door.

So the chiller is clean and waiting for the food cycle to begin anew. Yesterday we played What's That Smell? as I cleaned out plastic containers and dumped the contents. Today as I was stacking the plastic containers, the skunk-like smell hit me full in the face again. Whatever was in the container had embedded itself in the molecular structure of the plastic and wasn't coming out. As much as I hate contributing more plastic to the local landfill, there was no way I could keep that container. Later today we'll be playing Guess What Meat Dish Devolves Into Skunk? and removing that recipe from the kitchen rolodex.