Freeze-drying Machine

I've decided that I need to purchase a freeze-drying machine.  Everything that is fruit seems to taste better when it is freeze-dried.  I realize the bonus of fruit, generally, is its juiciness and freeze-drying everything will take all the juicy properties away, but even fruit didn't know how delicious it was until one day somebody ate some freeze-dried strawberries.  It's like astronaut ice-cream, but from the loam.  Free from artificial neopolitan ice-cream flavoring.  I feel really good about this.  I'm going to start researching.

I really bring up the freeze-drying machine because I've been so lazy lately.  All of my thoughts are about the same things, so I tend to ignore all these other thoughts, like the strong desire to purchase a freeze-drying machine.  Why can't this idea be just as important as finding the love of my life?  I bet I can even choose the color of my freeze-drying machine.  I can choose where to put it on the counter.  I can polish it if it gets dirty--if I get any grapefruit juice on it for example because I imagine grapefruits will be on the early list of experimentation--and I can manage how sticky it becomes on the outside near the buttons.  I could buy some aggressive stickers and put those on the outside of my machine; maybe some flames and skulls with snakes coming out of the eyes.  I could draw eyes on it.  I would definitely name it.  I would freeze-dry everything, and I would commiserate with those who purchased fry-daddys for the first time and then proceeded to deep fry everything they could get their hands on, and the lessons and tales of failures would flow between us.  We would learn of each other, and our snacking habits.  Who was there when the first hard-boiled egg was deep-fried?  Who was present when they decided to deep fry some cherry cordials?  Was it Rick's hand who was horrifically blistered by the deep-fired Oreo?  And how much damage was it when the hot oil was spilled on your counter top after slipping on the flying fish roe from the California roll you just tried to fry?  I, too, would share tales of Boris, my freeze-drying machine, who bravely freeze-dried watermelon, freeze-dried gummy bears, freeze-dried gooseberries and Sam Adams summer ale...clearly my new fry-daddy friends and I would have much to discuss.

I would like to address the feeling of not writing because one feels what they have to say isn't important enough.  God knows there are plenty of people out there speaking and writing right this moment who have very little to say but are saying and writing things so hard...so very hard they are exclaiming thoughts and experiences...I judge them not, but I will say that what is withheld cannot be an actual contender against things shared that are, in reality, heinously stupid or annoying.  Why it was only this morning I overheard a conversation between a man and woman about broccoli that was in reference to a pasta salad the woman had over 17 years ago and how crunchy the broccoli had been and how glad she was to learn that you could add such small pieces of broccoli to pasta salad and it could still be so satisfying to eat.  It just so happened at that moment as I was overhearing this I was thinking about a book that I wanted to write that would involve a great deal of research in order to execute, and might require that I do some traveling as well.  The woman spoke of small broccoli pieces ("not the stem parts, the fat, the stringy--I don't like the stem parts you can't put that in the salad it will ruin everything") with deep feeling.  Why I felt as if I too had eaten that same pasta salad 17 years ago.  It was chilled perfectly and had a good amount of dressing, I imagined.  The fact remained that I was only thinking of something that might not happen, or something that I was planning to happen in a certain way at a time that is not now...the traveling, at least...the pasta salad was as legendary as James Dean.

In honor of Rosa and her pasta salad I decree here and now, with the thought of Boris my freeze-drying machine in my heart, his small plug-tail wagging, that I shall try to be more forthcoming with my thoughts and ponderings.  I will explain them, even when they're not perfect--especially when they're not perfect (for what truly is?).  I will take Rosa's hand and step into the deli of life and make it happen.

That is all.

~ B