It's Always Darkest Before You Turn On The Light

  I was at the airport excitedly heading off to parts unknown - I was heading for the gate for New York but I had spilled ketchup on my ticket and tried to rub it off so it now looked like it said that I was going to Eww Yuck, so I literally didn't know where I'd end up. I had a bottle of water in my bag which I forgot about until it went through the x-ray machine and all kinds of alarms went off.  The airport went into a stage 5 lockdown, all entrances and exits were sealed off, INTERPOL was notified, Seal Team 6 were en route, and a very official-looking security officer held up my bag and asked "Who owns this?"  I said "I do," and he gestured for me to step out of the line-up.   Now, that wasn't a good idea on his part because there's nothing I hate more than the gesture-instead-of-a-verbal-request approach, so we were off to a bad start right out of the gate, as it were. I strolled over to where he was standing holding up my bag like it was a tic...

 It was a freezing cold day in January.  How cold was it?  I'm glad you asked.  The newspaper headlines read "Nanook of the North Cancels Vancouver Trip Citing Extreme Cold."  I was obliged to leave the pleasant confines of my domestic abode to sally forth down the street for something vital to my continued existence - milk for my cup of tea - and as soon as I walked outside I knew it was going to be an undertaking that would make even Edmund Hillary say "There's no way I'm going out in that."   The sidewalk and street were covered with ice that was as slippery as.....as.....a very slippery thing.  They were like glass.  My heart raced.  My stomach turned.  My colon tightened.  And yet I HAD to venture forth, for my errand was pressing!  So I stepped gingerly onto the sidewalk and my legs took off in different directions.  I cursed myself for not reinforcing my shoes with some device to give me some traction - like gl...

Last Sunday, it being a day of rest for all decent, God-fearing folk like myself, I got up at the crack of noon and proceeded to make pancakes for all and sundry.  Well, every cake I made stuck to the "non-stick" pan and tasted great but looked like there had been a magnitude 8.5 earthquake in the kitchen.  I tried turning up the heat, turning down the heat, using more oil, using less oil, and, finally, swearing at the pan.  We ate the pancakes and, like I said, they tasted great but looked like crap.  When we were done, my husband decided he was going to make himself another one and he went into the kitchen (obviously) and cooked A PERFECT PANCAKE!  I mean, it was a work of art!  I was bewitched, bothered and bewildered.  And not necessarily in that order.  HOW did he manage to do that?  Not a single piece of batter stuck to the pan AND HE WAS USING THE SAME BATTER AND THE SAME  PAN!!!!!  I was livid!  Of course, I couldn't as...