My Weaponry

I decided to get my larger-than-normal ballerina butt out of the house today to get my knives sharpened before I start my internship at The Restaurant on Thursday. I packed them: the Santoku, the paring, and the 10-inch serrated, with their knife guards on, safely in my purse, put the leash on the dog, and started my 30 minute trek to the store. The walk I go on takes me through a verdant park in Seattle that I feel is my little hidden urban oasis. And it seems other peoples as well....

The sketchy part of this adventure, was of course, that you have the recluse teenage boys hiding out from high school who cattle call you, gothic girls smoking cigarettes on tree stumps while playing hooky and gossiping, and the occasional homeless person with their obedient stray dogs who love to sniff at Cashew's privates.

I was glad I had my three semi-sharp knives to ward off any predators. How often does a twenty-something woman have three forms of weaponry in her designer handbag?

Never.

Well, maybe mace.

This could also help me at The Restaurant kitchen, as well. Who knows what kind of predators I will have to deal with there!

On the way to the "knife-sharpening store" (it has a name, but it wasn't memorable enough to remember), I avoided Anthropolgie like a glazed donut, and stopped at this small, quaint bookstore to see if I could find another book (that was not Julie and Julia) to read. I picked up "Tender at the Bone" by Ms. Reichl and "Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant". This should keep me busy until my weapons are sharp enough to be life-threatening.

At least to parsley.