Waste not, want not and some matters of perspective.

 

A little politics, a little literature, some good happy hour talk
with Carol Roark and Lon Burnam

I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. Thursday night I fixed a really good, ersatz Mexican casserole—a layer of refried beans, the next layer a mixture of chicken, Rotel, Velveeta (shhh! Sometimes nothing else will do—or melt—as well), corn, onion, and cilantro. Top that with generous grated cheddar and bake. (See “Gourmet on a Hot Plate” blog for February 25, http://gourmetonahotplate.blogspot.com/2021/02/another-week-of-bare-grocery-shelvesand.html ) Christian was at a work event, Jacob asleep, so Jordan and I ate huge helpings and talked about how good leftovers would be the next night, when we again expected it to be just the two of us. I really had my mouth all set for it.

Friday late afternoon Jordan came to the cottage and said she had good news, bad news and which did I want first. I chose bad, figuring I would get whatever out of the way. The casserole had been left on the kitchen counter all night. We didn’t want to risk it, so it went in the trash, and we ordered Tex-Mex which—sorry!—wasn’t nearly as good as what I’d made at home.

That wasted food made me think of my Depression-survivor mom who abhorred waste. How many remember being told to clear your plate because children in China were starving? After a while, those children were in Hungary, but there were always children somewhere who would welcome the food I didn’t want to eat. I never could see that my eating liver and onions did them any good, but ….  Mom saved the tiniest bits of food. When we cleaned her fridge for the last time, my brother was horrified at all the jars with tiny bits of something, each growing mold. Depression perspective stayed with her all her long life. Waste not, want not.

And speaking of food, did you read about the police who poured bleach on food intended for the homeless? It’s an old story now—2018—but somehow made its way into the news again today. In Kansas City, I believe. What is wrong with people? How inhumane can they be? Reminds me of the meme going around that says it should never, ever be illegal to give a fellow human being a drink of water. In Georgia now, to give someone in a voting line a gun is legal; to give that same potential voter a drink of water is a felony.

I think Georgia has bought itself a whole world of grief. I‘ve lost count of people who’ve posted such things as, “I guess I’m going to jail for the first time ever, because I sure am going to be passing out water to those in voting lines in Georgia.” One woman, whose page title indicates she cooks professionally, said she guessed she’d be catering the voting lines in Georgia come 2022. Love it!

And, finally, speaking of perspective, there’s the former friend who wrote today that in the matter of the shooting spree in Boulder, we must keep things in perspective. I told him my oldest granddaughter goes to school in Boulder and shops at the store where the shooting occurred. There is no such thing as perspective for me. He did not acknowledge that but replied about the horrors of gun violence in Chicago which he blames on leaders—and yet he would hamper those leaders and not give them the authority they need to deal with guns: better background checks and a ban on assault weapons. He and I once worked together and respected each other, but from my perspective today, he is a former friend. I can only stomach so much.

On a lighter note, I’m expecting friends for happy hour. Hope the rain holds off, but the sky is looking gray, and the air is eerily still.