If I Could Sew, I Would Fashion Myself a Cape.

Good Morning and Hello!

I really hope you'll follow this all the way to the very end because I feel sure that by that point I will feel led to include some type of MENTAL HEALTH DISCLAIMER, and for legal purposes I'll probably need all of you to sign some kind of form or something.

Please use black or blue ink.

That being said, this morning on my walk ALL I could think about is what could possibly go wrong Friday Night when I teach this little cooking class I've been asked to do.

Well, OK, I did spend a little bit of time thinking about the man I saw on the path who evidently trains for some type of hiking expeditions by carrying a 50 lb. bag of dog food strapped to a very large metal backpack while wearing heavy hiking boots and thick woolen socks.  I've seen him several times before, but this time he was with whom I assume is his wife who was running BACKWARDS in front of him as he ran in a normal forward position, so that, you know, they were facing each other, and as far as I could tell they were carrying on what seemed (to them at least) to be a perfectly normal conversation about the merits of different types of lettuce.

So there was that.

And then there was a short period of time that I actually contemplated jumping into the car of a very fancily dressed businessman who had left his equally fancy JAG-U-AR running and the AC on while he stood in the yard of a house under construction talking to a builder or someone of that nature.  I mean it was 102 degrees outside and that AC was just going to waste, but then I thought that maybe my sweaty legs might stick to the leather, you know, really bad, and when he would eventually turn around and see me and I would have to jump out and run, it's possible the skin on the back of my legs just might be ripped off, and The Chief made a point to ask me especially politely this week to "Please Lu, try to stay out of trouble." 

So I quickly and logically concluded that the necessity of skin grafts, or the leaving behind of any sort of DNA evidence might just possibly fall under The Chief's definition of trouble.

But other than that, and the brief tussle I had with some yard workers over their Igloo cooler, I spent the whole walk thinking about cooking class.

It's  a class of about 10 young married couples, and will take place in our church's kitchen.  I will demonstrate the techniques for several recipes, provide the ingredients and the recipes, divide the tasks up among the participants, and supervise the preparation and cooking of the dishes.  Then and finally we will enjoy the meal that they have expertly prepared.

But.

Should I wear my apron with my name on it? Or is that too arrogant?

What if I forget to bring one of the main ingredients like, let's say, the CHICKEN for the chicken main course?

What if they see right through my facade?  I've never officially been to cooking school.  I'm not a chef, for Pete's sake.  What if they catch on right off the bat that I just make things up as I go along?

SWEET MERCY what if, at the young age of 16 or so, one of them was a cooking prodigy, has studied for years in France, and was close family friends with Miss Julia Childs?

What will I do then?

What if I forget and wear open-toed shoes and spill hot "Makes You Swoon" Mac and Cheese all over my foot?  Then I believe we're right back to same old horrible skin graft scenario.

Help me.

What if some of them HATE BLUE CHEESE?  The Neuvo Texas Waldorf Salad is nothing without the blue cheese.  

Worse yet, what if someone is ALLERGIC TO SOMETHING??

Should I ask all of them to go be tested and then bring in a doctor's note?

What ON EARTH WILL I DO if sometime before now and Friday all the manufacturers of white balsamic vinegar actually shut down???  I CAN'T use regular balsamic.  It makes the salad look dirty.

And worse yet, what if one of them has some type of HEART-RELATED issues in their mid-fifties and it is traced back to my over-zealous use of butter?  Will I be held liable?  Taken to court?

Imprisoned?

So.  You can see.  I have a lot on my mind.

Just call me

I need a cape.

But I can't sew.  WHY, OH SWEET MERCY WHY,  DID I NEVER LEARN TO SEW?

Lu