After School 0
- 2 years ago
- 36
- 0
When they returned, Tyke had brownie mouth and Krys had a tray and glasses ... and a baggie with a wet washcloth, Cora Jo, the doctorate, had a pitcher of iced sweet tea ... the engine room crew carrying French press coffee, homemade cream of mushroom and potato soup and roasted chicken sandwiches.
Krys said, “Is a simple Ukrainian meal, best I could do on such a short notice.” She looked at the pile of journal sheets, “What did you find out?”
“We need a certain sized sapphire ring to work the portal.” Zoe said, then she sipped a sup of soup. “Oooh. This is marvelous.”
“What size sapphire?” Krys asked.
“It doesn’t say,” Cynthia said. It was her turn at the soup. “Wow, who made it?” She nodded at the spoon in her hand.
Women are easily sidetracked by cooking ... genetic? Krys explained about starting the soup the day before.
Krys said, “I cook ... Ukrainian women do. Is not like American ... we make ... not open cans.” That was a trifle accusatory.
Things progressed as things do, “Recipe?”
Krys said, “4 to 5 medium potatoes, peeled and diced, 1 pound fresh mushrooms, sliced, 1 cup heavy cream, 2 large carrots, sliced, ½ cup chopped fresh green onion, 6 cups chicken bone broth...”
“Wait. Canned broth?” asked Cynthia.
“No,” Krys said, “I made it last week. You were at the beach.”
She launched into the remainder, but Zoe stopped her, “You made it? How?”
“In the pressure cooker,” Krys said.
“What?”
“Chicken bones from 2 chickens,” Krys said. She nodded at the chicken sandwiches. “Roasted ... What?”
“Cynthia? Pen?”
Instruments were found and writing ensued. Zoe used the back of the journal. Caught up, the hand with the pen made the ‘tell me more’ motion.
Krys resumed, “Roasted.”
“How?”
“Bones ... cracked ... on a lipped oven pan. Roast in the oven. Pour the bones and juice in the cooker. Add a splash of cider vinegar, some salt, a medium onion, peeled and halved, 2 sticks of celery, including the leaves. 2 medium carrots, peeled and halved, 2 smashed garlic cloves. 1 bay leaf, filtered Water 10-11 cups. Bring up to a boil and pressurize it. Simmer for hours. No peeking. You’ll know by the smell. Strain and discard the solids. Pour into glass jars, chill, toss away the fat and cap the jars, refrigerate. Makes a good base for most soups and stews. You can mix the fat with bread dough and use that as fish bait.”
“Then what?”
“Then we make the soup,” She started over. “Four to 5 medium potatoes, peeled and diced, 1 pound fresh mushrooms, sliced, 1 cup heavy cream, 2 large carrots, sliced, ½ cup chopped fresh green onion, 6 cups chicken bone broth, ¼ cup all-purpose flour, 3 big T butter, 2 big T olive oil, 2 little t chopped dill plus extra for garnish, 1 bay leaf, 1 tsp salt add more at the end to taste, 1/8 tsp ground black pepper.”
Women who have traditional mothers know how to cook homemade. They know what goes in the pot and when. They know one does not leave the bay leaf in the soup. The bay leaf is for flavor.
“You never made this before,” Zoe said. Then she noticed Miss Brownie mouth. “Tyke!”
And, of course, Tyche knew exactly what momma was referring to ... the frame of chocolate around her mouth ... really good chocolate.
“I’m saving it for later,” she said.
“Krys!” Zoe said, “You could have washed...”
The wet washcloth landed on Zoe’s lap. It was very wet ... and cold.
“I cooked, you clean.”
Half an hour later ... Tyche was rosy faced ... chocolate is stubborn ... so was Tyke. There had been a lot of, “Mom! Mmmmphf.” “Cold!” “Not so hard!” And “Hold still, you!” “Grab her!” Tyche was reduced to jelly by armpit and rib attack ... but she was clean ... until she turned up her face and puckered her mouth.
“Aaarrrgggh. You are not kissing me with them teeth,” Zoe snatched her up and headed for the stateroom head.
On the return, conversation resumed where it had left off,
“I never made it before because it’s hard to make at sea, and I needed fresh mushrooms.”
“Where?”
“Farmer’s Market.”
“Oh.”
“Saturdays.”
“Where?”
“Here ... in the parking lot.”
So ... they all went.
And ... lo and behold ... a rather shady character had a selection of rough sapphires.
Cynthia bought them all.
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Sorry about the slow going of the story-writing. You are Crown Prince John III of Creagachtír and you are not happy. It is not your country which displeases you. Despite what others might think, Creagachtír is a great land. Its scenery is the type which requires quiet reflection, but this just makes you appreciate its subtle beauty all the more. The exposed rock faces tells the story of the mountains over innumerable years with thousands of fractures. The moor which dominates between villages...
RomanceJoel unlocks the front door to his house. He knows he should not be there this week, but he has to be. He walks quietly to the den and pulls out the top desk drawer, picks up his passport, and turns to leave. 'Don't do it Joel,' he tells himself. He turns on the computer, 'don't do it, his inner voice calls out.' He double clicks the security CCTV software icon, don't do it, again the voice begs. He clicks on the icon for the pool house, a bed comes into view on the monitor. The camera is...
CuckoldAh! One of my favourite past times. when you are in a in a state of frustration of epic proportions but not able to accept a huge dick in your pussy for whatever reason, a good ol' sexting session is probably what the doctor should be ordering. And if you are worried about your messages and pictures of your pretty pussy going viral; don't be! Send those messages with pride and commitment: not only do you give yourself a good seeing to, you also have the god given power of making a man blow his...