Woke early, decided to whip up my signature dish of blueberry waffles. Cheated a bit and used canned berries, but they cook down into such great syrup without all that washing and cleaning. I am very fumble fingered in the mornings.
Made the special batter … stir exactly three times and STOP. The lumps are just fine. Leave ’em alone. Just set the bowl aside for a few minutes while you prepare the iron.
Checked the ‘fridge. No juice … ‘sok … coffee will work.
Went to get the waffle iron out of the cupboard, but Snookums must have found a new place for it. Finally, after checking everywhere, I asked her where her new secret place for appliances was. Was tersly informed that it had died last week, and my one task FOR THE WHOLE STINKIN’ WEEK was to buy a new waffle iron. I was given permission to buy any damned iron I desired.
I did go to WallyWorld … and walked out with an SD card and a thumb drive. But no waffle iron. I got in a snit because they don’t put the size of the iron on the box. What the hell is wrong with telling the buyer what size waffles the stinking iron makes?
So … the upshot is, what do you do with a quart of waffle batter and stewed blueberries? Waffle cakes? Waffle cakes it is. Thick, gooey mess, sort of pancake tasting, but with crisp outsides and doughy insides. Snookums told me they were pretty tasty … but I know a bad breakfast when I see it.
Then into the studio for some me time. Annie Annie, our black something or the other, sleeps in there. And last night she upchucked something very, very smelly. Or perhaps it came out the other end. I didn’t examine it closely enough to tell.
Funny. I can work on plumbing and pretty much keep my lunch down, but a runny pile of doggy do on my carpet makes me retch …
Snookums rides to the rescue, cleans it up, spritzes it with soapy water and vacuums it up, and sprays FreeBreeze® into the air, and my damaged morning once again becomes bearable, if not sooper-dooper-spanking-perfect.
Good morning, late as it is ….