Jill's Journal: Some days you just can't win

Jill Meier, Journal editor

If you read the title of this week’s installment of “Jill’s Journal,” it’s likely that you’ve caught on that something in my happy little world didn’t go as planned.

And you’re right.

It happened in the kitchen a few nights ago. It was past the usual supper hour – or “dinner” for those who refer to the evening meal in that lingo – and at that point of the night, I surely wasn’t in the mood to go “whole hog”. As I scavenged the cupboards and the fridge, the imaginary light bulb popped on when I spied the pork link sausages in the freezer. “Perhaps, it’s going to be breakfast for supper tonight,” I told to myself. A breakfast burrito would not only be quick and tasty, but it would be just the right amount to satisfy my growling tummy.

Next, I confirmed I had all of the other needed ingredients on hand. 

Eggs. Check.

Tortillas. Check

Shredded cheese. Check.

Salsa. Check.

I hauled out a frying pan to cook the sausages, whisked a couple of eggs and organized the remainder of ingredients for what should have been an uneventful meal prep.

Or, so I thought.

Not one to dump grease down the drain, I opt to “recycle” spaghetti sauce jars and the like for this very purpose. And that’s where the mess occurred for this particular “Julia Childs” moment.

I’m still not sure how it happened, but the frying pan – minus the sausages – but still containing the grease from cooking them, slipped out of my hand, draining its greasy contents onto the rug in front of the stove, then tumbled end over end, landing on another rug across the way from the stove.

The rug by the stove, of course, was drenched in sausage grease. 

The rug on the other side of the kitchen, had melted to the bottom of the frying pan, which left its impression imbedded on the rug. 

Oh, and the slippers I was wearing, well, they were doomed for the washer as well, having absorbed some of the fallout.

It was fair to say, I had a mess, not to mention, I likely was going to be in the market for a couple of two new kitchen rugs.

The next night, I tossed the rugs into the washing machine. I figured it was worth a try and the capful of detergent I was “investing” in attempting to salvage the rugs. Unfortunately, my “give-it-the-old-college-try” attitude didn’t turn out as hoped. 

Needless to say, the burrito was tasty as could be, and I am now the proud owner of two kitchen rugs that clearly lost the infamous battle now known in my home as “The Battle of the Sausage Grease and the Kitchen Rugs.”



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