Under favorable conditions, the Handmaidens are known to collaborate; the better to delight the gods of laughter with more of life’s little vicissitudes.
Earlier today, the Handmaiden of Anomalous Weather Events lay sulking under a mud pack at the Celestial Spa and Tea Room. Others simply weren’t taking full advantage of her marvelous spate of unusual winter storms.
Oh sure, snarling up holiday travels had teased guffaws from the laughter gods, but it seemed puny reward for so much effort. She’d been aiming for paroxysms of merriment.
From a massage table nearby, there came a long, theatrical sigh that could only be the Handmaiden of Opportune Whimsy. Ears perked around the room.
“Things are so dull just waiting around for opportune moments,” said Whimsy. “Can’t you ladies come up with some new ideas?”
“Oh, goodie, a throw down!” came a chorus of chirpings. “Count me in!”
Before long, the place was alive with clusters of Handmaidens happily plotting. Weather shifted her acute hearing from group to group; finally zeroing in on a promising chat. Moments later, she had quietly insinuated herself into the conversation.
“But now we’re into the quiet spell,” the Handmaiden of Capricious Cookery whined. “You know after all the holiday baking, and the turkey dinners and whatnot, they pretty much vamoose out of baking mode until the next Birthday or even Valentine’s Day.”
Whimsy nodded, and sighed.
“Not all,” ventured the Weather Handmaiden. “My awesome inclement weather? A lot of them had to postpone their travels. So their hostesses didn’t do all that baking and cooking. Some are just getting around to it now! Isn’t that delicious?”
Cookery’s eyes grew bright. Whimsy’s too; inviting Weather to say more.
“In fact,” Weather leaned in and lowered her voice. “I know of one right this moment preparing shortbread for the oven. Yes, even as we speak. And walnut snowballs . . . you know, those little cookie balls dredged in powdered sugar?”
“Whee!” cried Cookery, clapping her hands in glee. “Those both need perfect timing and temperature to get them just right! Ooooh, this is going to be so fun.”
“That’s not all,” Weather winked at Whimsy. “Wait ‘til you hear this. Her son banked time all year at work to get an extended holiday. And he told her he’d even got a special prezzie for her birthday between Christmas and New Year’s. And even better! Listen, listen . . . my snowstorm kept him stuck in Victoria for his whole banked vacation time! With a cold, to boot! Fun, huh?”
“That is so good,” giggled Whimsy. “He was going nowhere! Hahahaha.”
Cookery tugged at Weather’s arm. “So now for the weekend, he can finally drive ‘up island’ to see the Mom? And the Mom is baking his favorites! Wheeeee!”
Okay, if you haven’t guessed by now, I’ll just tell you how this ends. The shortbread turned out just fine. As for the walnut snowballs? . . . Well, nuts.
Folks, when your oven temperature dial says 350 degrees F. but your oven is actually hot enough to keep molten lava in a liquid state – what else could it be but a visitation from The Handmaiden of Capricious Cookery?
Earlier today, the Handmaiden of Anomalous Weather Events lay sulking under a mud pack at the Celestial Spa and Tea Room. Others simply weren’t taking full advantage of her marvelous spate of unusual winter storms.
Oh sure, snarling up holiday travels had teased guffaws from the laughter gods, but it seemed puny reward for so much effort. She’d been aiming for paroxysms of merriment.
From a massage table nearby, there came a long, theatrical sigh that could only be the Handmaiden of Opportune Whimsy. Ears perked around the room.
“Things are so dull just waiting around for opportune moments,” said Whimsy. “Can’t you ladies come up with some new ideas?”
“Oh, goodie, a throw down!” came a chorus of chirpings. “Count me in!”
Before long, the place was alive with clusters of Handmaidens happily plotting. Weather shifted her acute hearing from group to group; finally zeroing in on a promising chat. Moments later, she had quietly insinuated herself into the conversation.
“But now we’re into the quiet spell,” the Handmaiden of Capricious Cookery whined. “You know after all the holiday baking, and the turkey dinners and whatnot, they pretty much vamoose out of baking mode until the next Birthday or even Valentine’s Day.”
Whimsy nodded, and sighed.
“Not all,” ventured the Weather Handmaiden. “My awesome inclement weather? A lot of them had to postpone their travels. So their hostesses didn’t do all that baking and cooking. Some are just getting around to it now! Isn’t that delicious?”
Cookery’s eyes grew bright. Whimsy’s too; inviting Weather to say more.
“In fact,” Weather leaned in and lowered her voice. “I know of one right this moment preparing shortbread for the oven. Yes, even as we speak. And walnut snowballs . . . you know, those little cookie balls dredged in powdered sugar?”
“Whee!” cried Cookery, clapping her hands in glee. “Those both need perfect timing and temperature to get them just right! Ooooh, this is going to be so fun.”
“That’s not all,” Weather winked at Whimsy. “Wait ‘til you hear this. Her son banked time all year at work to get an extended holiday. And he told her he’d even got a special prezzie for her birthday between Christmas and New Year’s. And even better! Listen, listen . . . my snowstorm kept him stuck in Victoria for his whole banked vacation time! With a cold, to boot! Fun, huh?”
“That is so good,” giggled Whimsy. “He was going nowhere! Hahahaha.”
Cookery tugged at Weather’s arm. “So now for the weekend, he can finally drive ‘up island’ to see the Mom? And the Mom is baking his favorites! Wheeeee!”
Okay, if you haven’t guessed by now, I’ll just tell you how this ends. The shortbread turned out just fine. As for the walnut snowballs? . . . Well, nuts.
Folks, when your oven temperature dial says 350 degrees F. but your oven is actually hot enough to keep molten lava in a liquid state – what else could it be but a visitation from The Handmaiden of Capricious Cookery?
Photo credit: here
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Sounds like appliances are on the fritz everywhere. My washer is on the blink and my friend's water furnance and water heater died.
ReplyDeleteGreat to know we're not alone! Sorry about your washer . . . I can get by without an oven for a while but the thought of going back to hand washing everything makes me shudder. That's almost as bad as having to schlep everything to a laundromat, LOL.
ReplyDeleteI'm enjoying said shortbread right now.
ReplyDeleteMMmm MMmm Good!!!
ahhh....then the struggle is worthwhile.
ReplyDelete