ant episode

Every now and then I seem to have a cooking or baking episode where my flopped experience makes for a bit of a humorous story - at least it serves to help me laugh at myself. I last wrote about my attempted recipe rescue on our family blog. It's a bit out of the norm for this blog, but I thought I'd write about another mess.

Yesterday I brought baked beans to a picnic. Now, I had a humungous 7 lb. 4.5 oz. can of it that I bought for $2.99 at Sharp Shopper. Needless to say, it did not all fit in my casserole dish. Even after filling some tupperware with the extra, the beans and sausage were precariously close to the rim of the dish. Nevertheless, I risked it. Herein lies the lesson. I will think twice, or thrice, before doing so again.

My mom kindly suggested that I use her basket that goes with her stone casserole dish - it's very nice and nifty. And it guarded my car seat (mostly) from a sloppy bean mess that instead slushed it's way into the basket during the drive. After arriving at the picnic, the hostess kindly helped me wipe down the dish and rinse out the basket, and I left the basket outside on the ground to dry. A few hours later I packed it back into my car and went with a friend to spend some time at her place for the rest of the evening. I am so thankful that God allowed me to casually check the dish before getting out of my car, because I discovered that ANTS had found their way into the basket. I hate ants!

pause here - Let me flesh out to you my hatred of ants. I hate aunts more than spiders or any other insect I can think of. It's their numbers. You never know if you've ridded yourself of them all. They have the power of numbers and the unknown on their side. I like to see my opponent, but nothing is worse than not even knowing if they exist or not. Months ago I was in the office alone and discovered a trail of them - some instinct kicks in at those times and I drop absolutely everything to make certain of their demise; it really becomes all consuming, and it surprises me. I'm sure there's something behind that. Once on a family vacation years ago I spent the afternoon (maybe just an hour really) curled up on a lawn chair at a man-made beach that was covered with big ants, not daring to touch the sand. Even longer ago, at our old house when I was at least younger than 9, I witnessed a neighbor girl sitting on a stone wall instantly be covered by tiny bitting ants.
I can't stand ants.

So, I am very thankful that God allowed me to observe that there were ants in the basket before they made a home in my car - oh, what faith He would have to work in me then to even get into my car!
I'm sure it was a ridiculous picture as my friend and I tried to solve the dilemma of what to do with the basket. I definitely was not leaving it in the car; I dare not set it on the ground and give opportunity for more ants to enter the basket; setting it on my car hood would be rather conspicuous and potentially tempt someone to steal it (and remember it belongs to my mom); setting it on the back of my car could cause me to forget it and drive away without recovering it; bringing it inside the house was out of the question. So we finally positioned it, fairly securely, on top of my side mirror and leaning against the car frame. This all felt so silly. I still do not know of a more practical or obvious solution - but I'm sure there could have been one. It's one of those situations that I just shake my head and bask in the ridiculousness of being such a girl.
When I came home late last night, I continued to exterminate the few remaining ants until my dad made me stop and go to bed.

Hence why I will think twice, or thrice, before bringing an extra full casserole dish to a picnic again.

photo credit: iStockphoto