Nothing like MY home cookin'.
**Beeeeeeeeep**
Me: (leaving message on Mark's Aunt's machine)
Hi Lynn, this is Anessa, I was just wondering if there is anything
I can bring to help out on Thursday for Thanksgiving dinner.
I'm not that great of a cook, but I'd be happy to try and make something.
Just let me know...my number is 444-XXXX...and I'll make it happen..
whatever you need...just let me know....
Look forward to seeing you all.
Bye!
**click**
I hang up feeling very proud of myself,
having offered to help out with the Thanksgiving spread among a family full of talented country cooks. I am also quite nervous since I have never really made a meal or an appetizer that is much more than mediocre. In fact, I have never made anything that ended with an empty pan or a request for my recipe.
It's a stretch for me to participate, but she doesn't know I can't cook, I reason with myself.
I'll call my Mom for help.
I can do this.
Yeah!
Bring it!
I'm gonna kick ass in the kitchen this week.
I will even dig out the pot holders from the bottom of laundry basket today.
Oh, this will be fun! I might even wear an apron....the red and white gingham one with the cross stitching.
I knew that would come in handy some day,...
So, later that night, after running to the mall to find something to conceal my hairdo in,
('cause it's a pretty safe bet that my grandma doesn't dig dreads)
I return to find there is a message blinking away in my dark kitchen.
monotone: You have one new message.
Lynn on Machine: (in her absolutely charming western Kentucky accent)
Hi Anessa, this is Lynn, that is soooo sweet of you to offer to bring somethin' to Thanksgiving dinner...
"Oh my gosh......She's taking me up on my offer! ", I think to myself.
My mind starts to race with images of corn sticks and pies and fancy finger foods....
I hold my breath in anticipation of my culinary challenge.
Her message continues: In fact, I know exactly what you can bring to help out....
"Oh boy...oh boy...."
I now have my pencil and shopping list ready...
Message is rolling on: I keep forgetting how important this is when I'm at the grocery store and we just can't do without it.....
"Ooooooh it's gonna be good...I hope I don't blow it..."
My mind begins to spiral into a storm of wild anticipation...and panic.
"I hope it's not a pie...I make terrible pies....
oh...I hope it's not a casserole, either...my casserole dish looks dreadful since I germinated those seeds in it......
Oh God! What if it is something that uses lard...
I don't have ANY LARD and they all use it!.....
My dish will taste so BLAND! OH NO!
What have I done? I can't compete with those kind of cooks!!!
WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING?!!!!
My chest begins to tighten and I realize I have tuned out the message I was supposed to be listening to.
Message still playing: .....so, honey, if you could,
I really need you to pick up two bags of ice for me.
Okay, hon? That'll do it.
Thanks for helping out and can't wait to see you!
Bye-bye.
**click**
As I stand there, with my pencil and blank piece of paper,
I can't decide if I am relieved, jilted, or amused.
At that moment, quiet and familiar laughter is heard from our living room...
"Can ya handle it, hon?", my dear husband asks.
I smile back at him, relinquish the death grip on the unassuming pencil, lay down my pad of paper and decide to
join in on the laugher.
Cooking just ain't my thing and apparently the word has made it to Western Kentucky.
Oh well.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Me: (leaving message on Mark's Aunt's machine)
Hi Lynn, this is Anessa, I was just wondering if there is anything
I can bring to help out on Thursday for Thanksgiving dinner.
I'm not that great of a cook, but I'd be happy to try and make something.
Just let me know...my number is 444-XXXX...and I'll make it happen..
whatever you need...just let me know....
Look forward to seeing you all.
Bye!
**click**
I hang up feeling very proud of myself,
having offered to help out with the Thanksgiving spread among a family full of talented country cooks. I am also quite nervous since I have never really made a meal or an appetizer that is much more than mediocre. In fact, I have never made anything that ended with an empty pan or a request for my recipe.
It's a stretch for me to participate, but she doesn't know I can't cook, I reason with myself.
I'll call my Mom for help.
I can do this.
Yeah!
Bring it!
I'm gonna kick ass in the kitchen this week.
I will even dig out the pot holders from the bottom of laundry basket today.
Oh, this will be fun! I might even wear an apron....the red and white gingham one with the cross stitching.
I knew that would come in handy some day,...
So, later that night, after running to the mall to find something to conceal my hairdo in,
('cause it's a pretty safe bet that my grandma doesn't dig dreads)
I return to find there is a message blinking away in my dark kitchen.
monotone: You have one new message.
Lynn on Machine: (in her absolutely charming western Kentucky accent)
Hi Anessa, this is Lynn, that is soooo sweet of you to offer to bring somethin' to Thanksgiving dinner...
"Oh my gosh......She's taking me up on my offer! ", I think to myself.
My mind starts to race with images of corn sticks and pies and fancy finger foods....
I hold my breath in anticipation of my culinary challenge.
Her message continues: In fact, I know exactly what you can bring to help out....
"Oh boy...oh boy...."
I now have my pencil and shopping list ready...
Message is rolling on: I keep forgetting how important this is when I'm at the grocery store and we just can't do without it.....
"Ooooooh it's gonna be good...I hope I don't blow it..."
My mind begins to spiral into a storm of wild anticipation...and panic.
"I hope it's not a pie...I make terrible pies....
oh...I hope it's not a casserole, either...my casserole dish looks dreadful since I germinated those seeds in it......
Oh God! What if it is something that uses lard...
I don't have ANY LARD and they all use it!.....
My dish will taste so BLAND! OH NO!
What have I done? I can't compete with those kind of cooks!!!
WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING?!!!!
My chest begins to tighten and I realize I have tuned out the message I was supposed to be listening to.
Message still playing: .....so, honey, if you could,
I really need you to pick up two bags of ice for me.
Okay, hon? That'll do it.
Thanks for helping out and can't wait to see you!
Bye-bye.
**click**
As I stand there, with my pencil and blank piece of paper,
I can't decide if I am relieved, jilted, or amused.
At that moment, quiet and familiar laughter is heard from our living room...
"Can ya handle it, hon?", my dear husband asks.
I smile back at him, relinquish the death grip on the unassuming pencil, lay down my pad of paper and decide to
join in on the laugher.
Cooking just ain't my thing and apparently the word has made it to Western Kentucky.
Oh well.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
posted by anessa arehart at 11/23/2005 05:45:00 PM
2 Comments:
I love that.
Happy Thanksgiving to you and Mark and your families!
Anessa-my heart is heavy for you. I was so excited at the beginning of this entry. I was so, so hurt for you at the end of the entry. I'm sorry. You can make something for us anytime. Okay hon! We'd LOVE it! :)
Talk with you later.
DM
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