There’s one recipe I only make for special people, on special occasions. It’s labor-intensive, from prep, to process, to clean-up. Well, today I made those dreaded pecan tarts, and – Oh, No! I burned them! Arrghh!
I always use the same little minute-timer—for school, laundry, cooking, you name it. For this reason, its irritating beep-beep-repeat can turn into white noise. I say to myself, “Oh, it’s just laundry.” Or, “It was dumb to give myself only half an hour anyway.”
Hubby was very understanding; he was thankful I’d made the tarts, and just said, “I guess we won’t have pecan tarts this year.” (He’s not hurting for Christmas treats: there are a dozen other kinds of delectables to choose from.)
This isn’t the first time I’ve messed things up with the most nebulous of distractions. (And I’m sure it won’t be the last.) Whenever I’m operating a stove, copier, sewing machine, day/night teller, or computer, if somebody comes along and starts talking to me, it’s always a better idea on my part to hold my finger up to freeze-frame the encounter—then go back to the machine and turn it off, clear it, walk away from it, or just swivel. Otherwise, things end up black, upside-down, crooked, blinking, or deleted.
So if you ever walk into my house and say, “Mmm: whatever you’re baking sure smells good,” please walk directly to the kitchen, and be sure I follow you. Look at me with a blank stare and say, “Do you want me to leave now, or do you think you can manage not to burn these?” And if a timer goes off, and I say, “Oh, it’s just laundry,” slap me.