Posted by: Bonnie Anderson | October 4, 2011

Taking It to the Street

It was an ordinary Thursday morning.  I was preparing to leave for a long weekend at the beach with my family.  The last thing I  had to do was make a turkey and rice casserole.  I assembled all the ingredients and got to cooking.  Things were going just fine until the jar of pimento rebelled against me.  I like the way pimento looks in the casserole.  Along with bell pepper, it makes for a colorful dish suitable for Christmas with all that red and green.  Anyway, this jar did not want to participate in my cooking project.  Period.

Suddenly I remembered that this was not the first time that pimento rose up against me.  A few months back I was making cheese balls and once again the pimento had other plans.  Of course these things rarely happen when my husband or my son is at home and that occasion was no different.  I noticed earlier that my neighbor was outside working on his car, so I went over with the stubborn jar.  My powers of observation were a little faulty that day.  It was not my neighbor working on his car, it was a mechanic.  He was happy to help me and even waved his usual diagnostic charge and just charged me for his labor.  In my opinion, that was $20 well spent – a bargain compared to what he was going to charge my neighbor, I’m sure.

But back to Thursday.  It was a warm, sunny day so I figured there would be people walking or jogging so I went outside looking for help.  It was like a ghost town.  I posted on Facebook that I needed some muscle from a neighbor and was shocked at the activity generated – 23 helpful comments.

My neighbor Kathy said there was no one at her house and she was sorry for my dilemma but perhaps I should try our 90-year-old friend Ruby.  Then she added that there were solicitors in the neighborhood inviting people to a church and she was sure they would help when they got around to my side of the block.  Then my friend Debi came through and said she was home, but alas if she, Kathy, Ruby and I had an arm wrestling tournament there would be no clear winner.  I had a moment of brilliance and posted that I had chocolate at my house, but still no takers.  Meanwhile I kept stepping outside with my jar of pimento just hoping to see a warm body.

Comments started coming in from as far away as Virginia where my friend Pete said, “Bonnie, were you really standing in the middle of your street, holding a jar of pimento, stalking the next stranger who walked or jogged by to ask them to help open it?  Sounds like an episode of “Punked.”

To which I replied, “Yes I was, Pete.  I’m getting ready to go out there again.  It’s the 11th hour for my recipe.”

I went out about three times in between checking comments on FB.  My friend and former neighbor Moggie even said she wished she lived in our neighborhood again with such attentive neighbors.  Yes they are attentive, but evidently we are a pretty weak bunch.  Then I had a friend from the other side of town offer to come open it for me.  I mean really, am I blessed or what?

Finally I said a little prayer and decided to put the finishing touches on my dish, with or without pimento.  At that point my son Scott pulled up in the driveway and rescued me.  I think I must have loosened the lid for him, because he just casually twisted it and it was open.  Sigh…

Just after I popped my casserole in the oven, I checked back on FB and Derek, a young man from down the street, said there is always somebody down there and they would be glad to help.  I’ve put Derek’s number on speed dial for the future.  Take that pimento!

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Responses

  1. Oh my gosh this made me laugh out loud!! I could just image the look on a solicitors face if they had stopped by your house and you thrust the bottle of pimento in their face! LOL Love this. : )

    • Thanks so much, Sara, and thank you for taking the time to comment.

  2. Haha! Yes, I admit I am weak, but very willing. I just don’t like pimento so much, and me thinks they know it! 🙂

    • I think you’re right about the pimento – a very crafty pepper.

  3. I’m laughing too hard to tip.. tipe… I mean type…

    • It was a very funny morning. Debi, bless her heart, is always willing to help. We used to bowl together and she had to quit because of an arm problem and I had to quit because of a shoulder problem, so we’re pretty much useless in the arm strength area.


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