Doering column: Kitchen capers

Last year was not kind to me. My arthritis became worse, my back blew for the third time, and no doctor can fix it. Worst of all, I lost my 63-year- old sister Lynne on November 25 when she died of a heart attack. I still grieve for her so much. This year has also not started well. I was hospitalized four days with a very serious medical problem and now I’m still so weak that I have to use a walker. I was so touched and grateful to all of my Newcomer lady friends for all of their cards and calls. It was so wonderful to know that I have “family” here I can count on.

I have learned from experience that people do not really want to know how you are. When they ask me how I am, I usually say, “I’m hanging in there,” and that is the truth. I know my first paragraph was a real downer. My husband Don told me I should not keep writing about the mishaps I get into because you readers out there will begin to think that I am dim-witted! Now, would you rather read that first paragraph or what I have to write next? You be the judge.

I was trying to help out my friend, Linda, by purchasing a carton of Cheerwine for her. I arrived at her house and had to use her wheelchair to get the box into her home because I am still quite weak.

I thought I would do her a favor and put the soda into the fridge. I opened the end of the box carefully and cans flew out of the box. Luckily, most of them did not break; however, one can started spewing Cheerwine almost as high as her ceiling; it acted like a spinning torpedo spraying her kitchen!

So I’m yelling to Linda in the back room, “I need some towels,” while I was thinking to myself the way that can spun around, they could use that as a weapon of mass destruction!

Linda came into the kitchen and saw what had happened and handed me a towel. She insisted I only clean up the floor, and that her housekeeper could clean the rest. I could not leave it at that, so I spent almost an hour wiping up Cheerwine from every inch of her kitchen. No offense to you Cheerwine people, but I think it will be a while before I can pick up another can!

When I was first married, I tried making a homemade pie crust like my Grandmother had taught me. So I floured the table, the pie crust and the roller and then started working. No matter how much flour I used, the pie crust kept sticking. After about a half hour of this, cursing quite profusely, with sweat running down my face, along with some tears, I finally became so frustrated I picked up the piecrust, flour and all, put it over my head and went, Whummp, and threw it all on the floor.

At that moment, my friend, Lorene, came into my home. She did not say a word, just quietly picked up a broom and started sweeping! It took the both of us over an hour to clean up the mess I had made.

After that incident, no one was happier to find frozen piecrust in the store! I never again attempted to make piecrust and to this day, I wonder how Grandma was able to do it so well.

I’ve had many more kitchen mishaps, as I’m sure all you cooks out there have had. I salute you, knowing that I am not the only one who experiences kitchen capers!

Jennifer Doering lives in Salisbury.