This may be my week, my week for embarrassment, that is.
Okay, what happened is that Heaven Admin had made another great meal yesterday which I heated up last night. It was a vegetarian meat loaf with nuts, eggs, cheese, and beautiful-showing hunks of vegetables like caulifower, spinach, a little of his curry sauce, and I don't know what else.
If you have ever tasted Heaven Admin's cooking, you know it's a culinary experience beyond any other. In addition to the nut loaf, there were varied lightly steamed green beans and cauliflower seasoned delicately.
For dessert, Heaven Admin whipped up a gourmet dessert in two minutes. First he took a slice of delicious moist date bread that he had made in a unique way. He drizzled homemade kefir on top, some fresh coconut thin slices, and, oh, yes, surprisingly, touch of cayenne -- and there was more I can't remember after the trauma that happened later. Believe me, this dessert was scrumptious and gorgeous.
Okay, here comes the star of the event. I was drinking some freshly-fermented fizzy Kombucha that Heaven Admin had made. I love Kombucha, and it's very healthy.
Without further ado, at the instant I took a big swill of my Kombucha, it went down the wrong pipe. Just like little boys might do in fun, I spit out the Kombucha all over the table and all over the food. I just missed Heaven Admin (I think) while I was making the most awful honking noises. Yes, this is Gloria, your Godwriter.
I was grateful this wasn't happening when I was in a fine dining restaurant receiving an award or seated at the table with the King and Queen of England.
You can count on Heaven Admin's rising to the occasion. This is the order in which he rose to the occasion:
1. First, Heaven Admin threw two towels over the table and the mess I had created.
2. Second, and, only then, did Heaven Admin gently rub my back.
3. Third, he declared: "Thank God I didn't have to do CPR."
Of course, I was grateful and was lavish with my thanks.
I'm going a little off the subject, but what do you think of Heaven Admin's priorities? Table is his first priority? Attending to me second? Third, being glad that rubbing my back gently was all he had to do AND, not once, not even once, expressing delight at having saved my life?
Now, just what am I supposed to make of this?