I was mixing the batter for a pineapple upside down cake last night and it occurred to me for about the one millionth time that I really do not like baking. I have a strong dislike for the electric mixer in general. In one one stark moment of self-analytical clarity I realized why. Dr. Freud, call your office, I have a revelation!
Last night we were sitting down to watch a Christmas movie. I was finishing up the cake and there came a confluence of memories. I remembered a Christmas long ago as I was trying to watch one of the many Christmas specials, Rudolph or Santa Claus is Coming to Town and Mom was in the kitchen making divinity and other candies for the Christmas Holidays. In those bad old days the TV signal came over the airwaves, not through a cable or beamed from space to your satellite dish. And there were only three channels. I can not remember if the picture was black and white or color, but I am guessing black and white, since I was probably only nine or ten. Anyway, in the dark ages whenever someone turned on an electric appliance like a vacuum sweeper or electric mixer, it interfered with the TV signal. You got lines on the screen and static for sound. And the small appliances were significantly louder in those days. It seemed Mom would chose the most exciting moments of the show to run the mixer leaving me angry and frustrated. I hate divinity. I ain't real fond of electric mixers.
There you have it, do-it-yourself psychoanalysis. I will have office hours from 1-5 every Thursday. My couch is comfortable.