Civil Disobedience + A Smoke Filled Kitchen

I found out today that I was summoned for jury duty.  But I’m not going.  Because I’m rogue like that.

Actually, I’m not going because the courthouse in which I was summoned to happens to be located 830 miles away in Florida.  Since Craig is active duty military, we’re able to keep Florida as our home of record.  Among the many advantages of doing so (hello, no state income tax), I’m also exempt from appearing for jury duty.   If we did live closer, I actually wouldn’t mind, especially since members of the jury get free lunch from Joe’s Deli.  I do love free lunch.    Alas, the few bucks you earn with the jury duty stipend is hardly enough to cover my airfare.  Besides, Craig and Caroline would have way too much fun while I was gone.  I’m not opposed to them having a good time, but I am opposed to the lack of control I’d have over the state of cleanliness in our household while I was away.  Oh, and also the state of Caroline’s hair.  Neither she nor Craig have proven to be proficient in the hair styling department, therefore, they’ll have to markedly improve their barrette fastening skills before I even consider leaving them for any length of time.

“Please forgive me your honor.  I cannot attend jury duty because if I leave, my kid will most likely go to school with disheveled hair AND a dirty face.  I’ve mastered the hair situation, but the dirty face is something I’m still working on.  When my child is capable of getting herself to school in a well groomed fashion, I’ll be happy to perform my civic duty.   Sincerely, The Neurotic Housewife.”
 
In other news,  I’m back to my old boneheaded tricks in the kitchen.  Yesterday I accidentally let an egg slip from my grasp; today I got sidetracked by online shoe shopping and burned my green beans.  It was impressive, I tell you; the house was filled with a heavy blanket of noxious smoke.   But as impressive as it was, the smoke alarm did not go off.  I wonder if I should check its batteries?  I guess it’s true:  if you don’t use it you lose it.  I took it easy in the kitchen for the 6+ months Craig was gone.  Sure, we ate…including many steamed  (and not burned!)  green beans, but I still feel very out of practice.  I need to dig deep and regain my cooking mojo.   On the other hand, the rest of our dinner fared better than the green beans, so I suppose I’m not in dire cooking straights.    My groove isn’t lost, it’s just on hiatus.  Hopefully a short term hiatus.

The good news is that even though I’m still working on regaining my cooking mojo, I’m still quite capable of dishing up ice cream.   This is clearly a case of “practice makes perfect.”

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