a matter of perspective?

So, I'm still mad. But I'm down to a simmer now, not the furious rage that I was in last night.

Perhaps I should explain. Once again, I was called to make food for the Hamiota rink. Sunday, for 5 p.m., the rink required a dutch oven of mashed potatoes.

Okay. The food didn't cost anything besides labour - they were from last summer. So that was not a big deal. The potatoes, being from last summer, were difficult to peel. Still fine for mashing, but when the spuds start to get soft they are tough to peel. Try to run your vegetable peeler over a soft plum, or a banana - you'll get the idea.

Anyway, Sunday afternoon came around and I was still suffering from a pressure headache - not quite over the cold. But, Dale was busy working in his shop - making the mezzanine - it has to be done, and I was afraid that my child labour would peel more fingers than potatoes. So, I set to work.

I peeled, cut, cooked the potatoes. Let the mixmaster do the mashing (best invention ever when you're making 5 or 6 litres of potatoes at a time). Sent them in with Dale and the kids - they were going to meet our new niece, but I won't get to until I'm over this bug.

Anyway, I got around to making dinner (porcupines, more mashed potatoes and peas), and sent a text to Dale to remind him about the meal. That time change certainly messes things up around here! He called back - he'd stopped by the rink and picked up my pot.

It was full. Of mashed potatoes. They didn't use them.

I cried.

Seriously, I cried, wailed, threw a big angry temper tantrum.

I don't think I have ever had a more useless afternoon when I needed to do so much stuff.

To put it in perspective, my Sparks/Brownies/Guides/Pathfinders are singing in festival this week, besides their regular meeting. My festival committee is hosting two days worth of vocal festival. The skating club in Shoal Lake is holding their dress rehearsal, photo session and Ice Show this week. And Kenton is having their windup. Of course the kids are singing in festival, they are singing in choirs as well. Oh, and there are taxes to do. I am a little behind in my "organized" life.

But, nonetheless, I could feed my family potatoes for the whole week. They're already cooked. Cold...mashed...potatoes...no milk, cause they're for the rink...cold. Ick.

While at the rink today, I mentioned how upset I was to a Skating grandma. She and her friend were there trying to organize the kitchen after the provincial Atom Hockey tournament this week. Now, I was pretty depressed about eating mashed potatoes for the whole week. Narrow minded, shallow little girl that I am.

Gladys immediately wanted me to bring them to the rink so they could make them into perogies. I'd forgotten how many potatoes we peeled and cooked and mashed to make those things - I buy perogies in a bag so never to relive those skating perogy bees. Can you say "Hunky Bill's?"

Margaret Ann was even more thrilled. Could I please bring them up so she could make potato soup for the auction sale.

Sold. I will take my dutch oven of cold mashed potatoes to the other rink on Wednesday. I hope they enjoy the potato soup.

Good job they gave me an ice cream bucket to take them in - it was going to be hard to explain the big spoon marks where Dale had been digging into the cold, icky, mashed potatoes.