Wah wah wah today. Right whiny, twitchy, annoyed mood. Part of the reason for which, outside of abstract frustration with my race and times, is that today I should be jizzing all over the screen about how awesome last night’s Scissor Sisters concert was.
Yeah, well, fuck you too.
Instead, besides seeing Lady, which was nice, I made vegetable broth and roasted a turkey as part of a successful bid to clean and regulate the fridge. I am not a well-regulated woman, but I’ve realized there’s nothing, when it comes to domestic order, that pisses me off worse than a badly regulated fridge.
I think that’s a double inheritance. First from my English grandparents, who lived through two world wars, the Great Depression and 35+ of retirement and came out of it with large amounts of money because they never threw out food. And second from the Calabrian side that violently objects to eating food that isn’t close to the peak of its flavour. This means a well-regulated fridge is absolutely essential to my peace of mind, or else things get pushed behind things and forgotten, superfluous produce is bought while their pre-bought co-nationalists wilt, veggies in opaque bags get lousy, small condiment jars are neglected behind big ones until one must throw them out - awful.
I can live with the fiercest, stupidest, most egregious messiness and even domestic filth – once in Italy I left a pat of lousy aeroplane dinner butter on my bedroom floor for weeks to see who would be the first person to step in it – but a badly regulated, smelly fridge where things get lost or lose their edible loveliness is an affront to affluence, the benefits of agrarian civilization and my own present poverty.