Last night I made hot cross buns, along with a giant mess. These were chocolate chip hot cross buns, and so by the time I was finished, there was dough, cocoa and melted chocolate all over the place. The amount of dishes and utensils needed for these baked delights is insane, but the thing that I found most ridiculous was the instruction to lightly flour the bench before turning the dough out to knead it. Recipe writer, have you ever tried lightly flouring a bench? There is nothing light about it. The adjective should reflect the difficulty of the action, or the effort required, not lull you into a false sense of security. Not only do you create small white puffs when you put your hand in the bag to get the flour out, but it scatters everywhere when it hits the bench top, and don't even get me started on the cleaning. It goes everywhere, and I didn't particularly enjoy pulling my kitchen apart to wipe away traces of unwanted, useless white powder. If the amount of scrubbing it takes to remove wet flour is light, then I'm a monkeys uncle. You should not have to be Olympic athlete strong to remove that stuff.
As I carried my finished products to the car this morning, I was coaching myself through not dropping the glass and ceramic container the buns were in, and running through al the things I had to remember to do during the day. I didn't realise I was doing this under my breath, until I saw Mr Emphysema on his front veranda, staring at me as I opened the car. I smiled an awkward smile, and thought of offering him a bun, but thought this might make things worse. Maybe I should bake him one of those Greek Easter breads to keep him from telling everyone how crazy I am, but then I'd probably offend him even more, because, lets face it, it would be nothing like what he was used to.
Throughout the day, I came to realise just how much city kids hate spiders. I know it's not just them, and lots of people are afraid of arachnid species. That's totally fine. I just noticed that 99% of people I know who are afraid of spiders, grew up in the city. And it's not just spiders, none of them are too keen on other bugs either. I feel like growing up on a farm, or a property of any kind, you kind of have to suck it up or go insane, but apparently, it's normal to halt a dance class while a majority of students (and a lot of the time, the teacher too, ) crowd into a corner of the room until the offending creepy crawly has been safely disposed of. It's crazy.
I became the definition of the word nonja today in my contemporary class, failing at what the teacher calls a "ninja" roll by looking ridiculously awkward, bruising myself in multiple places and struggling to get up from the ground. Real ninjas should thank me, it's people like me that make you look so impressive.
Right now I am alternating between struggling to stay awake, and crawling around on the floor in preparation for tomorrow's acting class, in which I have to imitate a particular wild animal (which for the purposes of the exercise is a secret, so I can't tell you.) I'm struggling slightly, so I think I'm going to say that I'm a baby one of these animals in an attempt to be a little more realistic regarding size, vocal range and attitude. Let's just say that animal Thursday has taken on a whole new meaning, and should be very interesting!!
Little Duck, out
No comments:
Post a Comment