The other day I found myself with assorted things in the refrigerator that needed to be used up, and decided the best way to do it was to make soup. I have tended to fill a soup pot to the point that any sort of starchy liquid will overflow, so this time I went after a bigger pot. To be specific, I pulled out my big stock pot.
Now I have become accustomed to washing my pots, mixing bowls, etc. before I use them as well as after. My house is anything but rodent-proof, and while my organic self resetting mouse traps do their best, they’re more likely to dispatch the invaders after they’ve come out through the kitchen cabinets than before. All three girls are excellent mousers, but I digress. Anyway, I had the sink all ready tp wash the pot as soon as it was out.
The big soup pot usually lives at the far back of a very deep cabinet, so other pots don’t end up stacked in it. You might imagine my surprise when I grabbed the handle and lifted to find that it had definite weight. It’s a heavy stainless steel pot, but it doesn’t weigh ten pouns. So instead of lifting, I pulled, sliding it toward the front of the cabinet.
The pot protested.
It said “Mrouw?”
I pulled it the rest of the way out to find the pot a bit less than half full of black cat. Tornado had curled up comfortably in the bottom, and was blinking at me as I pulled her cozy bed out into the light. Hmm. Leek, mushroom and cat soup was not what I had planned.
That pot was at the far back wall of that cabinet, as were my dutch oven and double boiler. The one nearest the entry is the double boiler. She had to step through it, but it was too small for her to curl up in comfortably. Next to it was the dutch oven. She likely curled up in it for a bit as well, but it is a wide pot and she is a smallish cat. The last one was stock pot.
I must say, she did fit perfectly.
I should start calling her Goldilocks.
