Adventures in the Kitchen With Tallie
Warning: This is not something you should read right before eating.

Today was my turn to make bread and our dinner. Being extremely organized (clears throat), I started last night. After completing the bread, I set out the necessary ingredients for Beef Stroganoff, which included a frozen beef round. After placing the round (still attached to the bone) in a Ziploc bag to defrost, I went to bed, planning to get up before the rooster and put the ingredients in the crock pot.

My handy dandy alarm clock (my sister Carrissa) stumbled into my room around 6:11 saying "Sorry Tallie, I overslept. Wake up!!!" After dragging my protesting body down the stairs I poked my finger at the round. Good. It was quite defrosted. Flipping on the light, I squinted my eyes and then opened them wide in shock.

There was something red all over the counter. I gasped. My nose filled with the salty/metallic smell of, you guessed it. Blood. Cow's blood. Sally Mae's blood to be exact. The pretty brown cow that formerly lived at me Grandpop's farm. I had petted and fed her. Now her blood was ALL OVER the counter. Resisting the urge to scream and pushing non-vomitous thoughts into my head. Thoughts like: You are in a meadow with lovely flowers around you. Inhale the lovely smell of, ummmm, blood.

The blood had leaked through the protective wrapping of the plastic and Ziploc. At least 1 and a 1/2 cups of blood was splattered on my formerly spotless kitchen counter. A homemade pecan pie, was surrounded by blood. The plastic wrap covering the pie had blood all around it. When I tried to pull the wrap off the pie, Sally's salmonella infested blood plopped on it. Great. Just great. Our pie with Texas pecans was destined to the dump. Not finding any plastic gloves, I sopped up most of the blood with paper towels and then anti-bacterial wipes, dish detergent and scorching hot water. I glanced down at my robe. The sleeve had dragged in the blood. Joy was written all over my face. I put the robe in the wash and finished sterilizing the counter and throwing the pecan pie away.

Mom told me I should have had a plate underneath the beef. Lest you think I know absolutely nothing about cooking, I do not cook with beef that much because I am mildly allergic. (Not so allergic anyone walks by with a roast beef sandwich I have to go to the ER, but enough that I avoid it if at all possible.)