They say that as you get older you are more likely to be a hoarder of at least one thing, and now that I’m (ahem) older, I can definitely see that happening. Not that I’m wading through mountains of on-sale collectible dolls and dirty Kleenex to get to the bucket next to the broken toilet every morning, but I’m entering a phase of life in which I can’t see the sense in throwing away something that is perfectly good. Combine that with compulsive buying of a specific thing and you’ve got me: Almost 60-years-old and the owner of more spices than hairs on my legs in winter.
I seriously don’t know what to do about my spices. They’re out of control. This is not surprising, since I love to cook and I get an almost orgasmic satisfaction out of reading a recipe, seeing some unpronounceable spice that would cause a lesser woman to turn the page and just make a tuna casserole, and realizing that I not only have it in the house, I might have three of them, one of them the Cajun version.
This spice hoarding goes unchecked because it’s only egged on by the other quirks taking hold as I age. Like being more and more okay with eating things that might be expired. Anyone who has ever opened the refrigerator in his grandmother’s house knows that the older you get the less you care about eating spoiled food. You never see a 25-year-old, no matter how near death from starvation, open up a Tupperware container, sniff it, wince, and then say, “I think it’s still good” and then serve it to loved ones. That trait definitely comes from reaching a certain age. When my mom was doing it, I thought it had something to do with her growing up in an orphanage and living through the Great Depression. But now I know that even Richie Rich grew up to cut the blue spots off the brie. [Read more…] about Spicing Up Old Age