TAKE IT TO THE LIMIT!

It had been brought to my attention that the temperatures in England were attempting to rival those in Austin; rising to the nineties on one day, at least.   

"But it is always raining in England!", stated one of my neighbours.  "That must cool it down some?" she questioned.  I explained that it was not the case, and that there is quite often a drought.  She was quite amazed.  "But it always looks so lush and green.  You see it in the movies".  I responded with, "And Texas is a wilderness with tumbleweed blowing across the sandy roads".  She nodded affirmatively.  

No matter the heat in my homeland, the heat here was another ten degrees plus, and rising.  As I returned from a swim on Monday, I met an office neighbour.  "It it still hot?" he asked, somewhat tongue in cheek.  I responded in the affirmative, but said that it was supposedly somewhat cooler than yesterday.  "Oh yes", he said, "Because we can really tell a difference between 105 degrees and 108!"  I laughed.  Once over the century mark, there seems to be absolutely no difference.  I can imagine that it is the same at home.  Hot is hot and the degree amount makes a difference not!

By Monday evening, I was ready for the weekend.  I begun to think, as usual, whether it was a good idea that I had asked my neighbours to come in for a 'get together' evening on Thursday.  I had planned a menu, which included a lot of creamy desserts, and even in air conditioned premises, cream can be a little unco-operative.  


I had received several replies to my invite, all of which were saying they could attend the soiree on Thursday.  The numbers were mounting and I began to think I may have to take a day away from the office in order to take care of business at home.  However, I knew that this was not going to happen.  "I remember when the 'Third Thursday' was soup", said Dana.  I looked at him as if he was an alien.  "Well it is a 'fourth' Thursday, and if I told my mother I was only offering my neighbours' soup, she would disown me!"  I had, after all, offered English fayre, which always included Shepherd's Pie!  I could not go back on my word.  "Then make Shepherd's Pie, and accept offers of help!" said my husband; a comment as tongue in cheek as my office neighbour about the weather.  My sense of humour had already packed its bags and was waiting for the cab to take it to the airport!  I had an idea it would not return until sometime Friday morning!

I baked on Tuesday morning.   Pastry cases, both regular (define regular!) and gluten free, were cooling on the racks when Samantha arrived.  I knew that I would have to be very attentive to my work product at the office, as I had planned to be a little late into work on Wednesday and Thursday, and I would also have to leave early on both days.  I had two guests for dinner on Wednesday night!  Glutton for punishment, that's me, and the glutton may as well be gluten free, as the elasticity in life had all but disappeared!  

Swimming was my outlet.  Once in the water, I swam laps and just breathed.  I could not afford to think whilst wading through the self made waves.  My eyes were closed for the most part, and I focused on my breathing whilst I went from one side to the other.  I did not want to leave the 'safe place' I had created, and when my alarm sounded, I was loathed to get out of the pool and go back to work, or go back to the condo to make dinner.  Tuesday night's dinner was a mystery.  My very clever idea of marking each pack of leftover food with its contents, by sticking a label on the plastic bag, was thwarted by the fact that as I had been packing and repacking the freezer when filling or retrieving, the labels had fallen off.  "What's for dinner?" asked Dana.  "Your guess is as good as mine!" I responded.  It turned out to be chicken, of sorts. I had made several different chicken dishes over the last couple of months, and did not know whether the packet would be better supplemented with rice or pasta, so I could not plan ahead!  On any other day, or week, this would have been very trivial, but with the expectation (my expectation) of a banquet on Thursday evening, it became a very important issue.  Dana, realising that the sense of humour had now taken off to climes more relaxing, played me at my own game, and continued to make fun.  

I received a message from Joe on Wednesday morning, which he sent at 4:53am, so that I would not miss it!  He was sorry that he missed me the previous week and would definitely be at the shop, should I be interested, this morning.  I responded that although I was very interested, it was not a possibility, as I had around seventeen neighbours for dinner on Thursday.  I continued the message by adding the old chestnut, "And I hope they are tender!"  Joe retorted that he would be at the shop next week and hoped they were a delicious lot!  I set about my work, and bemoaned my loss of companionship and conversation!  I could see my sense of humour making a detour if I went to see Joe, and return poste haste, if only for a couple of hours.  Both Dana and I enjoy Joe as a 'breath of fresh air' and relish the times we spend 'putting the world to rights'.  However, I digress!  I had a plan!  For some reason, I had chosen to make some macrons.  Why?  Like my Tuesday night's dinner, your guess is as good as mine. The delicacies not only take more than their fair share of time to prepare, they are also regarded as 'mini sweet burgers', rather than delicate desserts.  Their popularity has not yet reached the masses in this part of the world!  I took my laptop to the kitchen and watched the 'you tube' presentation that gives step by step instructions.  After the 'sitting' time had been completed, I put them into the oven, and set about making regular meringue baskets.  I am not sure for how long the marons had been in the oven, but suddenly my stove pipped and went off!  "Nooooo!" I cried.  I had already been working with one less hot plate and was going to call someone in to see what was wrong, but had not yet got around to it.  I manoeuvred the appliance around and it went on, then off, then on again.  I set the oven and set the timer for another five minutes.  I was suddenly grateful that these delicacies were not as renowned in this area, as I was unsure as to how they would turn out!  Each movement I made around my stove was with care.  I opened the door, very carefully.  I turned the knobs to turn on the hotplates (that were working) very carefully, and I pushed the timer buttons, and light button, very gingerly!  I could not afford to lose the use of my appliance!  

I arrived in the office an hour and a half late.  My sense of humour was not sunning itself on a Caribbean beach somewhere, or perhaps skiing in New Zealand!  I had no idea to where it had departed, but I did know it was a long way away!  Dana chose not to say, "Glad you could make it!" but I saw his lips suppressing the words from emitting.  I had considered calling out a mechanic to look at my oven, but was afraid that he would tell me not to use it!  Like Schrodinger's Cat, the oven was both alive and dead, and while the light displayed the time, I was oblivious to its danger!  

At lunchtime, I asked Samantha to help me pull out the stove to see if the connection problem was the plug.  It appeared not to be and we pushed it back carefully.  Was I playing with fire?  I will NOT ask for answers on a postcard, please!  I punched down my dough, which I had made for that evening, and shaped it ready for baking later.  I washed up a few items, after a very relaxing swim, and then returned to work.  I wanted to leave at five, and had planned a simple dinner for two guests that evening.  All was going to be fine.  Or was it?  

Swimming after work was an option that I had to weigh up very carefully.  On the one hand, I did have thirty minutes to spare, on Wednesday, to recharge my batteries.  However, Pablo, my Spanish neighbour was about to start his routine, and my options for laps was only one.  I would have to swim parallel to him.  Salmon upstream, remember?  I counted my laps, and had to add a few due to the fact that I was going length-ways instead of width-ways, and the distance is less than my usual beat.  However, I do wonder whether the added resistance, e.g. the waves caused by the powerful swimmer, could be taken into consideration!  I returned to the condo recharged, but not destressed!  

The repast was enjoyed immensely.  Poached salmon is easy to prepare, yet always considered to be gourmet!  Pasta mixed with lemon sauce, mushrooms and artichokes is also a good save!  Dessert was an experiment.  I had frozen some home made danish, as they had taken so long to make, and I was unwilling to let them go to waste.  I put them into a dish, and mixed some egg and milk to pour.  Bread and butter pudding with a difference, it was, and much enjoyed by all.  I felt a little better about my ability to meet the challenge of Thursday.

Thursday morning did not go well.  Although the oven behaved, and my daughter took over the mashing of the potato, and assembling of the Shepherd's Pie, as only she can, I was in a terrible mess.  I had made some cheese pastry for my quiches, both regular and gluten free.  Although the glutenous dough behaved itself, the one free of elasticity was not playing nicely!  I could not roll it.  I could not shape it.  I ended up pounding it into the individual spaces in my baking tray, and slamming it in the oven, having forgotten to treat it with kid gloves.  My 'schedule' was disregarded, as time ran away without a thought for my well being!  I walked into the office a little after nine thirty and was not ready to work at all!  

The lunchtime swim was a must.  I could not forego this, despite being overrun with emails and projects.  Tomorrow was another day, and if I had to work until midnight Friday, then so be it.  My 'more relaxed pace of life on this side of the Atlantic' programme appeared not to be working!  

Dana could not resist the opportunity when I returned to work.  "You were in late and you want to leave early".  The corners of his mouth gave away his thoughts, as I could see them curling, despite resistance.  "Yes!" I said, most emphatically.  However, at 3:45, when I said I was finishing up, he managed to throw me into a tantrum.  "But you said five.  You wanted to leave at five".  he said, with a very straight face.  "That was yesterday.  I wanted to go earlier today", I almost cried.  "Oh yes", he said, with a serious expression.  "Four thirty".  I had not received a post card from my sense of humour, but I knew it was having fun without me!  "So you still have another forty five minutes left", said my husband.  My daughter came to my rescue.  "Stop teasing!" she said, as she could feel my angst!  

My focus was quite strong when I returned home.  I knew I could not waste thirty minutes to exercise, and clearing my mind was an option that would not work, as I needed to keep on track.  I am unsure as to why I was so far behind, as I had actually made less than usual on the dessert trolley, and the main courses had taken care of themselves.  Dana arrived home at six forty five, and asked if there was anything he could do.  However, as I asked him, he pondered, and I ended up doing it myself.  "Bread basket from the cupboard above the oven", I said, as he stood looking at the mess in the sink. He went to the fridge and poured himself a drink, before going to the cupboard above the oven, by which time I had retrieved the bread basket. I was not upset, nor angry, nor distressed. It was not his angst, and he did not feel the need to hurry as did I.  I actually laughed for the first time in what seemed days!

By seven no one had arrived, and I was grateful for the reprieve.  The kitchen was cleared, the table laid, and all was almost well.  The Shepherd's pie was ready to come out of the oven.  The chicken was sitting in a pool of creamy liquid, in the crock pot, and the rice, despite being put into the cooker later than necessary, was almost done.  Quiches, sausage rolls, crudities, dips and salmon rissoles were on the table. Cups, plates and cutlery were being put in their places as the first guests arrived.  Desserts were already on the desk, which had been covered with a plastic cloth.  I had vacuumed, showered, and no one would have guessed that I was still putting together the final touches.  The St. Clements had been chilling in my beautiful dispenser, and bottles of wine were being uncorked as the neighbours mingled.  The two lads who had just moved in next door  arrived a little late, but they arrived!  

The evening was a great success, and the last guest left a little before eleven.  Most took food parcels.  "Are you sure no one else wants the gluten free quiches and desserts?" asked Cathleen, who is married to Pablo.  "Nope!" I said quite emphatically, as Ed, my other neighbour asked if it was okay that he took the remaining few.  "What do you use to make them gluten free?" Asked Pablo.  "I use gluten free flour", I answered.  "How do you know it is gluten free?" asked Pablo.  "It says so on the label", I told him, with the tongue in cheek aspect coming back into play.  My sense of humour, despite waiting for its luggage, had arrived back, at least as far as the Austin city limits!  "But how do you make the gluten free dough?" he asked.  "With a great deal of difficulty!" I responded.  We agreed that the elasticity is essential when making dough.  Elasticity is the key to all it would appear.  Flexibility runs on elasticity!  My life was returning to flexible!

I spent the earlier hours of Friday morning cleaning the house.  As well as my routine rota, I had to clean away the mess from the previous evening, which although was not much, as I had used disposable plates etc, my living room had been rearranged to accommodate my guests.  Fifteen in all!  Not many on some levels, but working full time had made it more of a challenge.

My work neighbours were grateful for the snacks I took them, as were our servers!

I came home at lunchtime, and was approached by one of my neighbours who thanked me for the evening.  "Those meringues are so good.  But I put one in my mouth and it melts so fast, I have to have another one".  At 85 years old, she is entitled!  I commented to Raul, as he was watering the green patch outside her condo.  "Hosepipe bans in England.  It is very hot there!" I said.  "But it is always raining in England!", stated my meringue eating neighbour.  "That must cool it down some?" she questioned.  "Nope", was my response  "But it always looks so lush and green.  You see it in the movies".  I responded with, "And Texas is a wilderness with tumbleweed blowing across the sandy roads".  She nodded affirmatively.  At 85, I can forgive a little lack of remembrance. 

Looking forward to a less stressful weekend was somewhat optimistic.  Samantha and I had decided that we should go shopping for the boys, before 'tax free weekend' as all the summer clothes would be on sale before the 'back to school' trend came into full swing.  We left home earlier than usual on Saturday, and headed north.  After shopping at the mall for a couple of hours, we headed to the newly opened Costco in Pflugerville, not far from her house.  Bedlam would have seemed relaxed in contrast!  I asked someone, "Are they giving it away?" as we parked on the perimeter of the car park.  "At least have lunch.  You are going to be in there a long time", said the lady to whom I posed the question.  The queues to get membership were so long, we wondered if we would actually be able to get past them to enter.  With several familiar faces at the stands (as they had been 'shipped in' from our local store, for the opening) it was just like a regular Saturday morning's trip to the warehouse, albeit several times busier!  We arrived home a little after two, having been to two Walmarts!

The afternoon was very relaxing.  I swam, I read, I swam and I read.  It was very special.  The previous weeks activities had been firmly placed in the past, and I was already looking forward to the next challenge.  "But you said never again", came the chant from both husband and daughter.  "Yeah, but....sometimes what you hear is not always the truth.  After all some people say it always rains in England!"  They both knew the 'never again' was really, 'never say never'.  I know I will try, try again.  Just as I shall once again, next week endeavour to produce ............. another story!