Enchilada casserole

The Case of the Missing Sheet

And other silliness at my house. I mean, losing socks in the wash? Happens to all of us. A whole fitted sheet with extra deep pockets for a tall full sized bed? How did I manage that one!? It’s not like I have a house, and multiple blanket chests, and closets, and space to loose a sheet. I have less than a thousand feet, six rooms, and two of those are occupied by the Little Man (technically, he shares the bathroom with the cat and any guests, but I stay out of it). So I guess I’m going to be up until the washing and drying is done tonight! Didn’t realize I’d misplaced it until I’d stripped the bed and gotten the washer started. 

I know, I know. One is none, two is one, better have three. I just ordered another sheet, because that’s the only way to find the missing sheet. The bed I’m sleeping on was the guest bed, and two sets of sheets were sufficient. I have a ton of queen sheets, but the queen bed stayed in Ohio and will be replaced when we have our own house again. Since that’s likely to be two years? I need another sheet, yes. Since I’m thinking about it, I should check with the Little Man, as we have twin sets, but I don’t know how many got left in storage, and we’ll be up there this weekend. 

It’s funny, the things you miss and want. Somehow the box with the utensils in it was not labeled. And I did not move all my kitchen gear into the apartment, with forethought. Simply put, I had an amazing farmhouse kitchen the likes of which I’ll never have again. I can’t possibly fit all the things into itty-bitty galley kitchen. We’re bustin’ at the seams with what I did bring here, and I’m getting creative with storage solutions. The utensils, though, I needed. So I threw my hands in the air the week we moved in here, and bought cheap nylon ones. My son is complaining we don’t have his favorite cooking tool, and this weekend we’re hoping to find it. What is it? A wooden spatula. I kid you not. We have nylon and silicone ones (found a couple in one of the boxes) and we have what my sister and I called ‘sploogies’ and everyone else calls rubber spatulas (even though they are usually bendy silicone ones). We have wooden spoons. No. He wants the blunt-edged mostly flat, with an edge, wooden spatula. Since most ‘wooden’ utensils are made of bamboo these days, and split if you look at them funny, I’ll dig through some boxes for him. 

Besides, I have to find one of my Dutch Ovens. It’s time. It gives my mother’s heart great pride to say that the Ginja Ninja asked for one, so she can make bread and stuff in it. *sniff* My baby is growing up so much. She’s got her own kitchen humming, and the bread experiments are happening. A cast-iron skillet has been part of all of their hope chests (I still have the Junior Mad Scientist’s in storage, as she is sharing domicile with the GN and there’s not room). But a dutch oven? I was afraid that skill would pass with me. Dad! Guess what recipe you should send her! That’s the other thing, too. For her 21st birthday, the Ginja Ninja requested a recipe box, and cards. I’ve asked some family to write up recipes and send them to her. I think that’s one of the best gifts you can give a young adult lurching off into real independence. 

I have a Dutch oven here at the apartment, of course. It’s a blue enameled one, and it’s mine. She will get one of the old-school black ones, flat-bottom. Dad and I used to have a stack as high as my shoulder, with the base one large enough to cook five whole roasting chickens at once. I wonder what happened to that beast? Dad still had most of the iron when I left NH. Which isn’t to say I don’t still have a decent collection, because I married a man who’d inherited his family’s iron. Rescued it, more like, as it was no longer used or wanted but he scooped it up and kept it safe. Plus I’ve added a few pieces scrounged over the years. Yard sales can be fun, although in recent years it’s become ‘collectible’ and the prices have soared. I can see it on an old piece, but I have to shake my head at modern Lodge (or Walmart brand) priced higher than a new piece. 

Ah. The washer has stopped. Time to get my sheet drying. See you tomorrow! 


One response to “The Case of the Missing Sheet”

  1. :hugs: Moving can be a pain. When I moved from FL to UT, I couldn’t find some very important things – one of which was my checkbook. We looked everywhere. Opened every book. Or so I thought. Then December came and I found all my important things in a little box marked ‘Christmas’. Stupnagle I lived with at the time had, unbeknownst to me, packed my desk while I was out and had thrown my things into that box without relabeling it. Of course, by then, I’d replaced everything. Derp. Every move since then I’ve been extremely careful with my important things. It helps that Hubs would never do such a silly thing and that I’ve done the majority of the packing.

    Good luck finding your sheet. You’re right, it’ll probably show up right after your new one arrives. And you’ll be reunited with your utensils soon. Hang in there.