pass the wine, some thugs just broke in . . .

if you write a blog about cooking and food, 
then what do you do when you suddenly find 
yourself without an appetite?
when something serious happens my appetite vanishes, all desire to eat stolen right out of my mouth. that's what happened this past week when some ballsy-bad-guys kicked in our doors just 15 min. after i left for work. luckily i had lucy and prudence with me. luckily the hoodlums fled when our alarm system sounded . . . but not before temporarily robbing me of my pleasure to eat.

i still find it hard to use the doors that they "entered" through . . . my sense of security splintered after seeing deadbolts and strike plates torn from our fractured door frames. one of those doors leads into the pantry that i usually go to care-freely for the spices, grains, beans, oils and vinegars i need to cook my dishes. it's where my side-by-side lives and sometimes erroneously ejects a piece of ice out the dispenser, leaving a little puddle of cold water on the tile floor. jim's beer fridge is in there too, with a photo of us on our honeymoon sitting on top.
after the officers searched our house with their guns drawn, jim asked them to leave open the closets so when i got home i could see that no one was inside. i checked every single one. twice. but it didn't make me want to eat. and neither did the vase of daisies i cut that morning that were meant to welcome us to the dinner table. there was no dinner. instead there was wine and bourbon. and one more wine for me. still there was no sleeping that night.
my trepidation was irrational . . . i knew they weren't coming back. and i know my appetite will. and so too my cheery steps from the kitchen to the pantry and back again. my nerves have begun to calm. just today i reached for my big skillet, my whisk, my fav. chef's knife. my chopping brought the chihuahuas dancing in for a nibble of carrot. our nightly dinners will resume routinely this week. and my next blog post will be about a happy meal with spoonfuls of my familiar, voracious appetite.


The View from The Back said...

Patty, I'm so sorry. It is indeed frightening that people choose to destroy another person's safe haven of home and sanctuary. Thank goodness the alarm system scared them away and I pray your sense of safety returns soon.


Patty Marguet said...

tx for your kind words lori . . . it gets better everyday. stay safe,