by L. Dalton

Created on: March 14, 2009   Last Updated: April 14, 2011

My Lucy Moment

My kitchen memory should be called "My Lucy' Moment!"

We lived some years ago, in a small apartment. It was modern and very compact. You might describe my kitchen as the "beginning" of a galley kitchen. I could stand in the middle of the floor and reach anything I needed. Plus it was entirely white.

My husband told me he had driven by a place that sold grapes, but you had to pick your own. He asked me if I would like for him to pick us some and maybe I might want to make some jelly. Of course, loving grapes (and him picking) how could I resist.

The next evening he came home from work and had two large grocery bags stuffed" with grapes. I thought to myself what am I going to do with this many grapes? But, I thanked him and said I would make some jelly as soon as I had gone to the store for supplies.

Bright eyed and bushy tailed, I went into my kitchen and began to clean and cook the grapes. This is where Lucy would have had a hard time outdoing me. The more I cooked the more juice I got. Not just how much I thought would be, but it seemed to multiply in gallons. The first batch went fairly well, seeing as I had no other steps in progress. Someone must have sped up the assembly line, because all of a sudden, I had grapes, juice, jelly, jars and a purple kitchen. I had juice in everything I could possibly put it in. When desperation set in and I decided to use the last "large" container I had, a punch bowl. Bad idea!

I sat the bowl in the sink (someone was watching over me) and proceeded to pour the liquid I had just cooked in it. There were more grapes to do and I still didn't have the juice from the prior batch ready to pour into jars.

The rest I probably wouldn't even have to describe, but just imagine a tiny kitchen, full of grapes and anything that could hold them. Pots of juice cooking on the stove and me, pouring hot juice into a punch bowl that was meant for cold liquid. All of a sudden I heard a "POP" and not having to wait to find out what caused it, the juice was flowing and flowing. Even though it was in the sink, that didn't stop the juice! It was everywhere! Counter, sink, floor, ME, and anything else that got in its way turned from white to purple!

If could have cried, screamed, laughed or just left, I would have felt better. Standing in the middle of a puddle of hot grape juice doesn't give you many options.

By the end of the day I had finally gotten about 6 cases of jelly made. And at the end of one can of comet I finally got the purple kitchen back to white and myself into the bath.

I threatened my husband if he ever brought home so many grapes again. I never think of that episode of mine without thinking of Lucille Ball. It would have been one of her classics.

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