Tweet
Does my kitchen need exorcising?
Ladies of Landover, I need your advice.
As some of you know I am unmarried and as I'm sure all of you know the best way of remedying that is through delicious pies. With that in mind I cleared some time yesterday to practice.
I spoke to my married neighbour and he said his favourite pie was an apple one. I'm not for one moment suggesting that I was baking pies to lure him from his (admittedly hell-bound) wife, just that that seemed like a good place to start - I had proof after all that it was a pie liked by men (and to think the atheists accuse us of ignoring evidence).
As I'm still new to the ways of offering pie to men I decided to use a pre-made apple pie filling and pre-made pastry. It's possible the Lord took exception to this laziness, I'm not sure - advice would be welcome.
Well, I laid out all the ingredients and set the oven to pre-heat. I started weighing out the cinammon, as my neighbour was very clear that a real apple pie must have cinammon, and then went to my closet to pray for a succesful pie.
When I got back to the kitchen there was an odd smell in the air but I just assumed that was a normal part of the pie making process. I started opening the can of pie filling but the smoke alarm made me jump and I cut my hand quite badly on the jagged edge of the can and spilt the pie filling all over the floor. At this point I'm ashamed to say I cursed quite loudly but fortunately managed to avoid taking the Lord's name in vain.
Checking the oven released thick clouds of smoke but I eventually realised that I'd left the oven gloves in there and they had caught fire. I managed to sort that out and bandage my hand but I was well behind schedule by that point and my bandaged hand was making me clumsy. Trying to get back on schedule as I had planned on a rhubarb crumble after the apple pie I was running around and slipped on the apple pie filling I'd spilt earlier, bringing the ingredients down with one of my flailing arms. I cracked my head quite hard and lost consciousness for a few moments.
When I came to, my cat (I'm 31 and unmarried. Yes, I own a cat) was licking my thigh. As I'd fallen I'd spilt milk all over myself. Now, it was only just above the knee but I wasn't sure exactly how far Leviticus 18:23 applied and I didn't want to run the risk of accidentally breaking it so I shoed Chairman Miaow away and took the jeans off as I feared they had been tainted. As my blouse was also soaked I took that off as well.
Whether it was the blow to the head or some demon of confusion I'm not sure, but instead of putting the blouse in the washing machine I actually put it in the oven. I didn't realise that at the time though and wandered off to change my clothes.
While I was upstairs the smoke alarm went off again and I raced downstairs but tripped over my cat and fell down the stairs. The next thing I remember is that several firemen were in my house, one sorting out my burning blouse in the oven while two checked if I was OK as I was lying facedown on the floor in my underwear while Chairman Miaow licked my, errr, my behind.
The true tragedy isn't the smoke damage to the kitchen, the loss of a good blouse or the fact that I had to kill Chairman Miaow. The true tragedy is that one of the firemen made a pointed remark about Leviticus 20:16 as they carried me out of the house. It seems clear he was a true Christian man and - though disturbingly heavy and rather too muscled for my tastes - I am in no position to be picky at this stage.
So Ladies of Landover. Was it my laziness in using pre-prepared pie ingredients that caused the Lord to punish me or is there something more sinister at work here? I seem to have made some rookie errors in making the pie.
As some of you know I am unmarried and as I'm sure all of you know the best way of remedying that is through delicious pies. With that in mind I cleared some time yesterday to practice.
I spoke to my married neighbour and he said his favourite pie was an apple one. I'm not for one moment suggesting that I was baking pies to lure him from his (admittedly hell-bound) wife, just that that seemed like a good place to start - I had proof after all that it was a pie liked by men (and to think the atheists accuse us of ignoring evidence).
As I'm still new to the ways of offering pie to men I decided to use a pre-made apple pie filling and pre-made pastry. It's possible the Lord took exception to this laziness, I'm not sure - advice would be welcome.
Well, I laid out all the ingredients and set the oven to pre-heat. I started weighing out the cinammon, as my neighbour was very clear that a real apple pie must have cinammon, and then went to my closet to pray for a succesful pie.
When I got back to the kitchen there was an odd smell in the air but I just assumed that was a normal part of the pie making process. I started opening the can of pie filling but the smoke alarm made me jump and I cut my hand quite badly on the jagged edge of the can and spilt the pie filling all over the floor. At this point I'm ashamed to say I cursed quite loudly but fortunately managed to avoid taking the Lord's name in vain.
Checking the oven released thick clouds of smoke but I eventually realised that I'd left the oven gloves in there and they had caught fire. I managed to sort that out and bandage my hand but I was well behind schedule by that point and my bandaged hand was making me clumsy. Trying to get back on schedule as I had planned on a rhubarb crumble after the apple pie I was running around and slipped on the apple pie filling I'd spilt earlier, bringing the ingredients down with one of my flailing arms. I cracked my head quite hard and lost consciousness for a few moments.
When I came to, my cat (I'm 31 and unmarried. Yes, I own a cat) was licking my thigh. As I'd fallen I'd spilt milk all over myself. Now, it was only just above the knee but I wasn't sure exactly how far Leviticus 18:23 applied and I didn't want to run the risk of accidentally breaking it so I shoed Chairman Miaow away and took the jeans off as I feared they had been tainted. As my blouse was also soaked I took that off as well.
Whether it was the blow to the head or some demon of confusion I'm not sure, but instead of putting the blouse in the washing machine I actually put it in the oven. I didn't realise that at the time though and wandered off to change my clothes.
While I was upstairs the smoke alarm went off again and I raced downstairs but tripped over my cat and fell down the stairs. The next thing I remember is that several firemen were in my house, one sorting out my burning blouse in the oven while two checked if I was OK as I was lying facedown on the floor in my underwear while Chairman Miaow licked my, errr, my behind.
The true tragedy isn't the smoke damage to the kitchen, the loss of a good blouse or the fact that I had to kill Chairman Miaow. The true tragedy is that one of the firemen made a pointed remark about Leviticus 20:16 as they carried me out of the house. It seems clear he was a true Christian man and - though disturbingly heavy and rather too muscled for my tastes - I am in no position to be picky at this stage.
So Ladies of Landover. Was it my laziness in using pre-prepared pie ingredients that caused the Lord to punish me or is there something more sinister at work here? I seem to have made some rookie errors in making the pie.
Comment