It all began about a week ago when I realized that during the course of this horrendous bout of bronchitis, I have been self-medicating with “comfort foods” (translated: I’ve been eating waaaay too much chocolate). This resulted in a weight gain of 3 pounds. GASP.
Being a panic-driven, weight-obsessed person since losing 50 pounds, I realized I had to stop and remember that my life was now about eating healthy. I did a quick survey of the kitchen and decided it was time to purge some of those bad items and get my expanding butt to the grocery for some healthier choices pronto.
Off to the store I go….perusing the perimeter of the store (where the healthy stuff lives), I filled my cart with lots and lots of fresh fruits and veggies, some lean protein and plenty of whole grains (have you actually tasted quinoa yet? Eat that, not tofu heh heh) Anyway….I took my healthy goodies home.
I don’t know about you, but when I look on the package of pre-picked, pre-washed salad I simply don’t believe anyone actually took the time to seriously hose down those pieces of greens and then dry them before packaging. So I always give them a good couple of rinses myself.
One of the items I bought was a plastic package of pre-cut broccoli. This was just the tops of the broccoli; the flowerets or florets, depending on whose package you buy. Into my colander went teeny little pieces of the tops of the ‘broccoli trees’. After rinsing, I took the colander and dumped it onto several layers of paper towels so the broccoli would dry. An hour later they were still wet. I got more paper towels and blotted. And I blotted. And I blotted. What happens when one keeps blotting is pieces-parts of the little broccoli flowers start to come apart.
And that’s when it hit me. The idea to beat all ideas. I could clean my broccoli in record time with a tool I had in my possession in another part of the house.
Up the stairs I went….into the master bathroom…under the sink…and there it was — my Blow Dryer. What a concept – a multi-tool – if it dries hair, why won’t it also dry broccoli? I took the Blow Dryer to the kitchen, plugged it in, hit the switch and being the smart gal I am, I put my finger on the “Cool” button so as not to fry my broccoli.
And then I realized I was in the midst of a distortion of Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s poem Charge of the Light Brigade. Forward the Blow Dryer Brigade — pieces of broccoli to the left of me; pieces of broccoli to the right of me, half a bag, half a bag, half a bag onward…onward to the kitchen floor. Into the Valley of Linoleum Rode the Six Hundred… pieces of broccoli.
At the time it seemed a good idea…sigh…