Sitting in the dishwasher

This is the picture:
I am sitting on a small stool in front of the open dishwasher, brandishing a muffin. I notice one of my feet is too warm, so I take off my slipper and remove the sock.

The stories:
I am
the small stool
the open dishwasher
the muffin
the slipper
the sock

I am Susanne, an artist, homemaker, mother of a grown son A. and daughter K., and grandmother of four to date, among other things. I live variously in Saskatoon with my husband P. and dog Prisca, and in Saint Albert with my daughter K. and her family. I come from an army family, where my photographer father was transferred around Europe, within Canada and did tours in Cyprus and the Middle East. My German born mother is an artist, and is the embodiment of culture. My brother A. is a plumber/gas-fitter and graduated rock musician. Within this family, I moved every year or three until high school, had a passion for horses and art, and developed a taste for punful abuse of language(s). With my husband P. I travel no less, to his homeland Greece, to Bulgaria, Poland and Peru as work requires. I sketch as inspiration and self discipline allow, and try to immerse in the land and food of whichever place I am in.

The small stool is a battered little antique with its original upholstery on a top not screwed down. I bought it in Saint Albert at Grandin Mall, from Bruce at "Tables and Chairs" Antiques. It is just a couple of doors down from "The Studio Gallery", my second home for 10 years, which will figure prominently in blogs to come. When I want to blow-dry Prisca after her bath, I take the upholstered top, place it over the bathroom sink, and she stands on it like at the groomers. Prisca comes from Peru, and is my ambassador.

The open dishwasher yawns emptily but grittily. I am trying to find the source of all the gritty scum left on the last load of dishes. Sure, a wooden spoon fell down to the bottom, but I don't think it was responsible for reduced action. So pliers in hand, (I know there's a more effective tool for these little hexagonal bolts, but not here) I remove the in filter and the out filter, but I'm not sure which one is which. One of them has a fine mesh, and I can see before I remove it that there is something suspicious inside. The other looks innocent from the outside, but when I remove it there is thick, rippling, greasy goo caked to the underside. I should get P. to take some to work and analyze it. Source of goo? My previous adventure with this machine was prompted by dissolved label adhesive, which left a delicate white shell on susceptible dishes. For breakfast I prepare shakes using flax seeds which can get pretty viscous if you let them soak. I cooked a salmon in the dishwasher last week. Last night I turned off the noisy machine while we ate, so maybe it took advantage of half an hour of dark moist warmth to spawn a new life form. Whatever the cause, I think we'll survive!

The muffin is a little stale, and I may be the only one eating this batch because I know what is in it. It tastes a little heavy in a branny way. Sort of like what my little friend's dad in Germany used to feed his pigs ("Get out of the barn!"). I have a passion for invented recipes, mainly invented from food that's "got to be used up". This little vice of mine is one of the main reasons for starting this blog. I truly believe that leftovers are an invaluable resource, and in many ways superior to nice new packages from the store. My cooking takes place wherever I may be at the time which could be Greece, Peru, at my son's or daughter's. I travel some with P. My kids are inspired cooks. P. is famous for traditional Greek lamb preparations. I just don't like to throw anything out. I may be able to fix something you've made that didn't quite meet expectations.

The slipper is heavy. It is made in Spain, and has rubber, leather and cork on the bottom, and heavy grey wool felt for the top. It is shaped like a clog, and has a little strap with a buckle so I can make it fit. And I've made it fit in various way! I had searched until I found a slipper that could accommodate my orthopedic insoles without sliding out the back. The inside was somewhat contoured however, and set up a magnificent squeak when I walked. So after several weeks, complaints from family, and shopping, I found that two layers of felt (Fabricland), and a layer of thin foam (for machine embroidery, The Sewing Machine Store) has fixed the noise problem. They are comfortable, but were very ugly. So Michael's came to the rescue, with a set of opaque fabric markers. One day I acted on inspiration and doodled a very folksy design on them and have successfully made friends with them.

The sock is probably the reason I got up the courage to start the blog. I was only wearing one sock, you see, because the other was unwearable. I have just started knitting socks as a joint adventure with my painter friend L., so I am about ready to start sock number three which may need the sacrifice of number one to have enough wool. Then I should have a pair, as long as I remember what I did right and don't repeat what I did wrong. In the process of knitting I have discovered wonderful knitter's communities online, and help blogs. Prairie Lily Knitting and Weaving in Saskatoon have been our source of support.