Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Springy G versus the Salad Spinner of Certain Doom

Inspired by My recent post on arpeggios, and continuing the theme of challenging some of the more bizarre and irrational behaviours that plague My current existence --

-- Let's talk about salads.

I love eating salads.  Greek salad, Caesar salad, chef salad, spring mix with baby beets and goat cheese and candied pecans with a drizzle of balsamic reduction.  Yum.

Here, however, is a short list of things I would rather do than make a salad:
  • Climb 20-foot ladder and clear leaves out of eavestroughs
  • Do My taxes
  • Run a truckload of plaster and lath to the city dump
  • Drive out to band practice in a raging thunderstorm
  • Clean the Dark Legion's litter boxes...
...That's the gist of it.

This isn't to say that I don't make salads; I do, when I eventually get around to it.  Although I still haven't quite figured out how to make a decent Caesar dressing, I can assemble the rest of it with no major issues.  My Greek village salad (everything but lettuce) is just fine, as is the lettuce-enhanced version.

I do, however, have a nasty habit of conveniently forgetting that I have perishable salad ingredients in the fridge, and have lost a few proto-salads due to ingredient rot.  As a result, I try to avoid buying greens and such until I'm good and ready to make an honest-to-goodness salad out of them.

Right then and there.

The very instant I get the groceries into the house.

No sojourns in the fridge allowed, at least not till the salad is actually assembled.

(glances out window at somewhat menacing skies; clicks over to the local weather webpage) Just as I thought -- Chance of a raging thunderstorm tonight.  I'll be back after band practice.

Maybe even with a salad.

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