Comfort food…Swedish pancakes are my definition of comfort food. That’s what I needed last night. I’ve been making these pancakes for a lot of years. They aren’t the easiest thing to make but so worth the effort.

If you’ve never had them…I’m sorry for you. They are like crepes, dinner plate sized, crispy edges, lightly golden and as thin as you can make them without tearing them when you flip them. My parents used to spread homemade applesauce over them before rolling them up. I prefer fresh chopped strawberries. Yum. Just yum.

I was looking forward to them after the work of making them…first time in my new kitchen. I made the batter, cleaned the strawberries and got out the fry pan.

Here is where it all began to fall apart. In my old kitchen I had a gas stove. In my new kitchen I have an electric stove. I’m used to pans heating up fast. I’m used to regulating the heat with one tiny motion of my hand. Very useful when making Swedish pancakes. But this new stove takes f.o.r.e.v.e.r to heat up. And then when it gets too hot and you want to turn it down just s smidgen? Forget about it. The first 2 pancakes were a total loss. The next one was an anemic looking one that ripped when I went to turn it over. About 20 minutes in I was cussing and missing my gas stove. I finally managed to make about three reasonably good ones…and that is when the batter ran out.

It was a lot of work for three pancakes. A lot of frustration to end up with only three pancakes. They were good. But cooking here in my new kitchen with its’ electric stove? Well that is going to take a lot of getting used to.

At least I wasn’t fighting ants on the counters too!

I am winning the battle.  Oh, it didn’t look that way last week.  They were close to declaring victory.  I was seriously thinking about moving, again.  Ugh.  Ants.  Hundreds, if not thousands, of the teeny tiny buggers.  They blend in perfectly with my new kitchen counters…until they move.  I had made friends with the guys at my local (just up the block) ACE store and I had done what they recommended.  I dared hope it was over.  Nope.  I opened my dishwasher again and they were back…and had multiplied.

I did the only reasonable, sane thing.  I called for back up.  The complex has someone they use for outdoors so I called him.  He showed up Saturday morning with an official looking metal box.  From it he took a syringe  with a very pointed end.  This high-tech ant removal.  he explained that the syringe was filled with a gel that he would put into areas where he saw them crawling.  I quickly reminded him about my cat.  He assured me it was safe for pets and humans, in fact he’d been at a conference where a guy ate some of the stuff to prove it was safe. Umm…okay.  Clearly the exterminator conferences are a lot of fun.

He put on these magnifying goggles, took out his super-duper bright flashlight, and went to work.  It looked like something from a lost Seinfield episode.  He told me the gel was like “ant crack”.  They swarm it, eat it all away, tell their friends and relatives and they go get some and everyone is finished.  He said because of the cold and the fact my house is on a slab with no basement they like to crawl along the hot water pipes.  What. Ever.  He promised he would come back at no charge if I saw more ants because he wants me to be 100% satisfied.  We agreed on that.  I want to be 100% satisfied.  100% ant-free.

Today has been almost ant free.  I saw one little sucker staggering across the floor…this is your ant on crack!  I’m a little paranoid.  I keep bending down to look across my counters to see if “anything” is moving.  So far so good.  I’m breathing a little easier.

As he left he told me he comes to do the outside of the complex three times a year so he’d probably see me around.  He also might have mentioned that he calls my street skunk-alley.  I might have stuck my fingers in my ears at that point so I probably missed where he said he was just kidding.  Right?  Right?

Life is Good

"It's ironic that we

forget so often how

wonderful life really is...

C'mon, let's be honest.

We have an embarrassment

of riches. Life is good."

-Anne Quindlen

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