Tuesday, October 5, 2010

live on

Leftovers live on. At my house, they travel to work as hot lunches, or are re-imagined into familiar yet different future suppers. I try to keep them under control though. Teetering stacks of Rubbermaid can crowd out the essentials.
I like to be sure that if a starving stranger staggered into my house, and grazed on the contents of my fridge, they would not be found later, cold and stiff. I used this argument to no avail on my mother growing up. She felt that leftovers of various vintage in her fridge were a type of home invasion protection apparently. I probably throw out perfectly good food as a back lash to such a casual approach to death, by leftovers.
Tonight, my kitchen counter is strewn with Rubbermaid containers. Our friend, is fixing herself a light supper after a late shift. Her nose could be hired out as a detection device at the airport. Just a sniff, and potatoes and broccoli are deemed "safe" for consumption. My motto has always been, When in doubt, throw it out, but our friend is fearless. She laughs in the face of danger, and like my leftovers, lives on.

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