Wow... nostalgia...

So, in an effort to keep myself from becoming completely 2-dimensional, I have engaged in a cooking endeavor with my brother. He suggested I make lemon chicken, since Mom won't (and hasn't for several years...). I told him we couldn't, since there was a lack of honey in the house.

He then went on an adventure, tearing apart all the cabinets looking for honey. And somehow, miraculously, he found some. Wow. It must have been a sign. So. I took out one of the the old cookbooks I haven't seen in years. (They have since been replaced by newer cookbooks.)

And now I am in the process of waiting for the chicken to be ready to cook. It'll be another half an hour. But preparing the marinade and cutting apart the chicken brought back memories. Lots of them. See... I used to help Mom make this all the time. It was one of my favorite foods. The smell alone brought about feelings of nostalgia... black pepper and corn starch mixed with soy sauce... I hadn't realized how much I missed this smell until today.

It was, however, a little weird seeing Beto in my old place and myself in Mother's. It used to be my job to mix things and pound the chicken, and Mom's to cut it up and do all the cooking. I really liked measuring and mixing and stuff. And I liked using the meat tenderizer. There's something really satisfying about pounding the hell out of a piece of meat.

I guess it makes sense, though... Mother taught me... and now it's my turn to be the "master" so to speak. I've never done this without her before. Which... makes sense... since I haven't done this since we moved from the downstairs of our old house to the upstairs. I think I was about 10. I hope I don't mess it up. Because that would rather leave my brother and myself with nothing to eat.

In addition, I hope we can finish this before Mother gets home. I wonder where she went.

This is still so weird, though....

~Kirideth

Blargh...

So... we managed to succeed in our cooking expedition... except that John insulted it and refused to even try it. Stupid 7-year-old.

We also didn't get to finish before Mom got home. Ffffffffuck. So we spent much of our cooking with her glaring at us. Yeah... real nice of her. The impression we got was "What the fuck are those shitheads doing in *my* kitchen?!" When asked about it... or... not really asked... I was *going* to say "Please don't glare at us like that; we're just cooking for ourselves so you don't have to." But all I got out before she interrupted me was "Please don't gl--" to which she said "I wasn't even looking at you!" And went off to her room to glare at us from there. (It would have been appreciated had she shut the door...)

Anyway... after eating and doing the dishes, Beto and I decided to take a bike ride to get away from her.

We ended up finding a cool place where we could just take our bikes and sit to calm down. It's about halfway from here to in-town Colfax (laughable though that is...)

After that, we went off and explored some more. We found County Road B. I knew County Road B would take us home, so we followed it a while. But instead of going home, we ended up at church. A while longer and we would have eventually gone home, but we went back the way we came anyway.

>.> Sometimes I wish leaving wasn't necessary.

~Kirideth