Waste Not, Want Not

Time is rushing by faster and faster with each passing day.  I’ve delayed time and again typing up blog posts because I simply don’t have the time to sit down, think things through, and put into words everything we’re in the middle of preparing.  We’ve reached the awkward stage in our moving process where everything’s half-finished and everything’s a mess.  We have half-packed boxes in the living room (2 boxes done!  woot!), papers in towering piles waiting to be sorted through, and a rapidly emptying kitchen.  Any purchase we make is with the full knowledge that in less than a month, it’s must be used, packed, given away, or thrown away. 

Rick had decreed a ban on all non-perishable purchases and frozen foods.  "We have to finish everything we already have in the freezer and cupboards before we buy anymore," he reasoned, Which makes sense and is all very good, until my stomach’s craving a quick midnight snack and there’s nothing to eat in the fridge except a shriveled head of cabbage, one potato, half an onion, some frozen-stiff porkchops, a bag of unidentified frozen specimens of the animal kingdom, a jar of mayo, and some questionable leftovers that may or may not have achieved sentience.  And no open supermarkets to remedy the lack.  (I can just hear my mom saying how this situation is very good for my diet)  Oh, how I mourned when I finished off my bags of frozen dumplings, frozen taquitos, and frozen ravioli.    After extensive use of puppy-dog eyes, Rick has relented a bit in terms of snacking.  Plus, thanks to daily visits to the supermarket, we have a never-ending supply of fresh fruits and vegetables.  Yay, healthy!  

I suggested the fabulous idea of a leftovers party to a number of friends and family, but was soundly rejected by all but two.  A leftovers party is when one gets a bunch of daring people together to create gastronomic delights out of the remains of one’s cupboard/fridge before gorging everything down.  Intriguing premise, no?  Sadly, the remains of our kitchen do not interest most people. 

As I watch the pepper shaker reach alarmingly low levels, the soy sauce dwindle, and the ketchup bottle make rather pornographic sounds, I realize how perfectly illustrative this is of our current limbo.  So close to the end, but just far enough to give me fits.