Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Plumpercot - A Friendly Gelatinous Alli
Plumpercot : A Friendly Gelatinous Alli
They're coming for me. I know they are. It all started with our Boocoo Billionaire Neighbor's chihuahua, "Walrus", being eaten by wolves, or so they thought. I know what really happened. It was most likely the plumperfruit aka pluots. They looked innocent and juicy. Upon further inspection, you will find that there is an ominous aura about them. The texture of the pluot aka plumperfruit is that of a fatty liver or maybe red jello. I suspected as I bit into the sweet gelatinous fruit that it may be "bugged with a microchip" that would float to my brain. This was all a part of the alien plumpercot's diabolical scheme to take over the world. Then as I continued to slice them, one held up a white flag of surrender, or was that a "certified organic" sticker?
At any rate, my mind was beginning to drift from the task at hand. I had peeled, cut, canned and froze scores of apples, peaches and yes, plumpercots this morning and I was perhaps becoming incoherent with exhaustion. Even the peaches seemed eerie. They weren't the yellow color I was accustomed to. Instead, these were something called "White Snow Peaches". They are either off white and crispy or soft and brown. That's another story, for another day, though. Perhaps it was best for me to break before I lost all sense of reason.
Really, our story began yesterday. It was too rainy to get much hunting done and so my husband determined to take us to town instead. Driven, the two older boys headed up the mountain in the rain, undaunted. As for me, I was craving junk food and town was the only place that was going to happen. With chips in mind, I happily abandoned my post at the cutting board and deserted the fruit crying out to be processed.
As we arrived at expensivemart, I went off looking for canning jars. My husband placed 3 - 12 packs of soda into the shopping cart. Disgusted, my heart sank. "I wish he wouldn't buy that stuff", I thought to myself. Then I saw the chips, making a mental note that it was only fair to add them to the cart of carbs. We found a few other items and headed to the check out in a hurry. We had ordered pizza ahead. The lady at the check out informed us that this wasn't the pop on sale. Suddenly, I got really angry. There it was in the flier. What did she mean it wasn't on sale? The soda I didn't want minutes ago, became something I was ready to argue over. If my husband wanted this soda on sale, then by golly he was going to get it! "Calm down" he whispered. "Ahhh, people have been doing this all day", the lady mumbled. "Its on the end cap with a sale price" my husband spoke softly. "Yeah, I know, but it's not supposed to be". Then he showed her the soda in the flier. She continued "people have been doing this all day". I began to question the IQ of the checker, but my husband gave me the look. I shut my mouth. After a solemn silence, she gave him the sales price.
Later that day in the grocery store, we began stocking up on sugary cereal, snack crackers, fun flavored yogurt and other things we don't usually buy. I got my canning jars. My husband got his extra soft toilet paper. As we walked by the brachs chocolates, I felt compelled to sample one (just in case I ever want to buy some). Then I decided I needed chocolate. When my husband was looking the other direction, I snuck 4 candy bars behind a large box of canning jars. I continued to innocently chat with the checker. This lady seemed nice. As my husband stacked more stuff on the conveyor belt, he spied the candy bars. I got a surprised and disapproving look. I felt guilty. I began to feel like a canning jar under pressure. It wasn't him, it was more the Big Guy upstairs, kind of conviction. I put the candy bars back. I knew I didn't need them.
Later on, at home, I looked at the boxes of canning jars, while eating a handful of chips. I knew there was no excuse. I needed to get the fruit processed. Ever since I caught a glimpse of this scary movie years ago, I have had an aversion to canning. You may have seen it. This homeless guy gets hired to be a "hunting guide". He gets flown out into the middle of no where. He later discovers a room in the cabin with men's heads preserved in jars. He's really the subject of the hunt! Oh scary! Anyway, ever since then, I have had an aversion to canning. It just seems kind of creepy.
Anyway, I did, indeed process a score of fruit today, no men's heads to be found. At no time during my work did I find any aliens or microchips. They also did not, I repeat, did not try to eat our cat. I suppose you could say that the plumpercots are about the healthiest thing I have going right now, what with the chips, soda and such. Plumpercots are, after all, a friendly gelatinous Alli.
Pictured above are my son, Art dog with his bear. Also my daughter, Sock Fashion Expert with her 5x7 buck. We'll be processing her buck this week and I am quite sure I can spin a tale or two about that as well.