The blogging world is full of impressive sorts.  Domestic Goddesses who can deftly change a diaper with one hand and prepare a four-course meal with the other.  And this time of year?  This is when they positively shine.

I’m am not of this number. 

I am of the undomestic persuasion.  We usually try to keep below the radar – especially this time of year.  When someone suggests the exchange of homemade gifts, we break out in a cold sweat.   And the thought of hosting a dinner party is enough to throw us right over the snow-packed edge.

Occasionally, however, we rise to the occasion.   At least we are valiant in our attempt.

A couple weeks ago, for instance, my friend Kristi and I planned to go to a movie … during the day … while everyone else slaved away at their day jobs.  We’ve been planning to do this since we both lost our jobs, over a year ago – because it’s fun, and we can. 

I offered to make lunch.  This was mistake Number One.  Mistake Number Two was thinking I had more time than I did, followed quickly by Mistake Number Three: using a new recipe. 

Aaah yes, the infamous New Recipe for Company approach. Note, this should only be attempted by professionals – which I so obviously am not.  But like a small pup who thinks he’s big, I always feel a bit more confident than I ought.  So off I set to make a delectable Ham, Cheese, and Jalepeno Quiche.  

When Kristi arrived the kitchen was in complete disarray.  There was a piece of bacon – a whole piece of bacon - flung halfway across the room, and I have no idea how it got there.   I only had half the ingredients in the pie crust, and it was brimming to overfull.  I was attempting to mash it down with my hands as if applying chest compressions. 

Now, you must know, Kristi’s family is not-so-very keen on germs.  This had to be quite the shock – and to no avail, I might add.  It was all for naught.  Thankfully I had an extra pie crust in the fridge.  I pulled it out, flopped it in a bigger pie pan, and plopped in the ingredients.  Then, the baking.  The recipe called for 35 minutes; it took an hour.   By the time it was all said and done, we had fifteen minutes to eat. 

Thankfully, while we waited, I snapped a picture of Kristi, waiting ever-so-patiently, along with her wilting salad (and yes, that is a paper plate you see; and thank goodness, because we would have never had time to do dishes before we ran out the door)…   

Enough said.