All Donuts Are Not Created Equal; It Was a Nice Gesture-However….

Two days ago the ambient temperature was 98° (36.66 C) today 68° (20 C), the wind speed is 15 mph. The temperature swing is not too bad; it’s normal for May in this Mediterranean climate. It will remain windy until the end of September, often a bit into October. The pollen is the fly in the ointment, sniffles, itchy eyes, and sneezing for many people. It seems when the winter clothes are put away stowed safely until Thanksgiving; at that time the visitors leave the Delta, the rains extinguish the wild fires and the state turns green again. We are either at the end of that cycle or the beginning however one looks at it.

I have no photos that relate to this, all of them are irrelevant to the text herein.

Still a lot of people are walking the Levee’s many with their dogs all relieving themselves on my neighbors lawn. I will get a phone call “it’s time to pick up the dog scat.” I’ve taken on the job, it doesn’t take hardly any effort and it helps the community a bit.

I’m in a bit of a box today, our neighbor and dear friend made donuts this morning. She is a good cook, tacos, stuffed bell peppers, and St. Patrick’s day corned beef, cabbage, the works. She brought the sinkers to the door at 9 am, thanking her she returned head long into the wind to her house.

They were a Blueberry/nut type of concoction with a Lemon sweet glaze on the top. The first noticeable indication I may be in trouble was how they appeared not to be cooked all the way; she cooked them in her “insta-pot” thing. The second noticeable feature of them was they were not “structurally sound”. Unfortunately that design feature was not noticeable until Mrs. Lebec dropped it in my hand. As soon as it hit my hand it began to like melt or deteriorate, I don’t have the words to describe what took place. It then began to slide between my fingers, Mrs. Lebec slid a paper plate under my hand onto which it fell upon. Gaining momentum it continued to slide gaining speed it landed on my keyboard with a splat normally related to the sound of a wet paper towel hitting the floor. This was possibly the stickiest man made object I have ever encountered, my keyboard was completely covered with sticky slime for lack of a better word. My hands were covered with the stuff dripping between my fingers.

“What in the h*** is this?” I asked Mrs. Lebec to which she answered “It’s a glazed donut.”

I had to get this stuff off of the keyboard before it set up, a wet towel was the immediate first part of the cleanup process followed with a dry towel. We both sat there looking at the thing, she brought six of them on a plate.

“Do you think we could put them in the air fryer to firm them up enough to take for a test drive?” I asked the head cook and chief bottle washer.

“No, that would make it worse.” She answered. “It looks a lot like serious indigestion to me, nightmare quality.”

It had to be tested, so I picked a piece up it instantly glued my thumb to my forefinger, popping it in my mouth it came out as fast as it went in. “Oh my gosh that is horrible! It tastes worse than it looks.”

“Yeh, I was going to say you should probably not eat it.” she was laughing. “It’s a lemon type thing smeared on the top.”

It was much like the sweet and sour pork we were served on the ship I was on in the Navy. Sweet-Sweet-Sweet/Sour-Sour-Sour is the most accurate description. I recognized the Lemon, the unbelievable amount of sugar and whatever the blue little rocks were I could not begin to know. The texture of the main body of the thing was so smooth it just added to the grossness of the assembly. OK so they were inedible, that’s fine not everything turns out well, nothing was hurt in the long run. But a larger problem was looming, the report.

I wanted a cigar once, I’ve never smoked, this was during the cigar fad of 20 years or so ago so I bought one. I lit it and took a puff, it was the same reaction; I immediately tossed it to the ground and stomped it out. What I wanted for a few minutes ended up leaving a disgusting taste in my mouth for a week. This donut is no different, I’m hoping the after taste will subside by morning.

I was in the garden when the text came in, “How’d you like the donuts?” It was my neighbor, luckily she copies both Mrs. Lebec and I. Being a coward I was waiting for her to present the write up. Apparently she was of the same mind, an hour passed with she nor I responding. I’m deaf so I have a built in excuse, Mrs. Lebec’s alibi not hearing it due to being in the shower.

I returned to the top floor with some outdoor light fixtures she wanted to clean prior to me putting them back together.

“Did you get the text?” She asked me.

I wanted to reply by saying “what text”, but I’m sure I would get the old “I don’t think you’re one bit funny or cute.” I answered in the affirmative instead; I get tired of being in trouble. “I’m a coward, you can answer it, besides you’re better at that stuff than I am. You guy’s are always fighting anyway so it won’t make much difference if you make her mad.” I qualified my position.

“I’d tell her they were good but I’m no good at lying,” was her reply.

“Tell her they started dissolving our teeth so we had to throw them in the trash.” I thought it was perfectly logical. “Just tell her I can’t eat them because sugar is the number one enemy of people with a heart condition, they could have killed me.” I suggested.

“What about me?” Mrs. Lebec looked at me tapping my hearing aid. “Do you have a deep fryer?” was here first sentence, then continued with the heart attack rubbish and how she was on a diet, yadda, yadda, yadda.

It was her second attempt with using the “insta-pot” baking, her first was a loaf of bread that had the weight, density and shape of a bowling ball. It was able to be cut, but chewing was a challenge. We used it for ballast in the trash can to keep it upright in the wind.

I on one hand do not like to make people feel bad so I asked the Navigator if it was suppose to be a critique or the type of thing we were suppose to lie about and tell her they were really good. Mrs. Lebec said she didn’t know and wasn’t too concerned about. I was because going to hell for lying about a donut just isn’t one of my lifes goals.

I don’t understand women about anything, we are on such different pages I often think we’re in different books written in two foreign languages. We’ve been neighbors for a long time, they are always upset with one another so I just reasoned it really doesn’t matter what Mrs. Lebec tells her. They say things to one another that would cause men to go to blows over, not them they just keep right on gabbing away. I just hope next time she wants to give us donuts they will be from the donut shop in town. For my part as long as I keep picking up the dog scat from her yard I will be just fine.

I should have taken pictures of them.

Jacques Lebec Natural Self Reliance

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