B!tchin' in the Kitchen

The house has little money for food and other things.  Fortunately, I used to be one of those bulk food shoppers. 

I was raised by a Mormon mother.  I always been well stocked up on staples.  Usually they sit in the basement until someone else needs them.  I forgot they were there.  The basement has become my ex's domain.  I only go down there to do the laundry or use the weight set.  He has my well loved Epson art printer down there.  I miss that thing.  Maybe I'll buy him something to replace my beloved art supplies.

Venturing in the basement, I discovered huge bags of flour (rice,wheat,flour), baking soda, salt, several pounds of soy protein powder, herbs, dried soy chunks (e.g. fake meat), sugar, fake butter flavoring, shortening, veggie oil and all sorts of stuff in the basement.  There were several boxes of energy bars. 

I bought those things when I was a practicing vegan, so no one is this household is going to get meat...but...here is my question...

Who the hell needs food stamps?

We just need to freakin' work together. 

I spent the weekend teaching the kids how to make homemade bread, cinnamon rolls, and pasta.  The kitchen was a floury mess and the ex seems happy to be eating real food.   I'm wondering if that's why he married me in the first place. He could eat well when we had no dough.

I'm going to show them how to make soap and laundry detergent in the next few days. 

That Mormon upbringing is paying off now.  My Step-dad's Pagan stuff comes in handy.  I always have herbs around and, you know, they do have some of the best remedies for all sorts of stuff. 

It's weird what sticks in your memory after you grow up. 

I hate eating so much bread but this having no junk food thing is really looking good on me.  I get to donate most of my suits now.  I have to.  The other day, an older woman ran to rescue me as I walked out of the municipal center.  Little did I realize that my skirt literally slid down my legs exposing my whitey tighties.  I'm just walking around like a young rapper with his pants slung down a little too low when my bottom gets tackled by someone trying to pull my skirt up. 

Now, that's a real hero!  She could have just laughed while I told everyone that business suits and crack are the new style... yeah, yeah that's the ticket!

Okay, not really.  That's the stuff of nightmares.

Today, I'm building two web stores and working on my resume.  I plan on getting the heck out of dodge.  I'll let you know when things settle down.

Love ya,

S.

P.S.  Of all the things I miss the most is the ability to buy really good toilet bowl cleaner.  OCD is such a horrid disease. 

Cheers!