A Messy Cook.

I am potentially the messiest cook known to man.

Today, I made:

-two loaves of bread-ish stuff, to be frozen, sliced thin and baked a second time into Raincoast Crisp-like crackers.

-Cranberry sauce (yes, like at Christmas) to be mixed in with yogurt and granola, or spread on toast to increase my Vitamin C ingestion.

-a batch of Breakfast Bean Cookies (about two dozen)

-a cobbled together dinner of freshly-cooked pasta and home-made tomato sauce from Friday.

This adds to the giant pan of granola I baked yesterday, and the loaf of Caraway Rye bread that Andrew baked this morning.

As a result, I have no clear counterspace- every inch is either covered with food, or (more likely) dirty dishes.  I have no clean measuring cups, very few measuring spoons (if I have to measure anything other than an eighth of a teaspoon or a full tablespoon, I'm screwed), no butter knives, no spatulas.  Dishes are stacked into precarious towers, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to be throwing Saran Wrap over the pots I cooked in and jamming them right into the fridge, because I don't think we have enough clean Tupperware to house everything (it doesn't help that I melted YET ANOTHER Tupperware last week by putting it on a still-warm burner after cooking dinner).  I had grand plans of baking bagels after dinner tonight, but I can't- I have nothing to measure ingredients with, and no place to work.

It's like this EVERY time I cook, especially if I do a lot in a short time.  And it takes me days to clean it up and get through the backlog of dishes (and heaven help me if we don't have leftovers to eat and I have to keep cooking dinners along the way).

Needless to say, I don't "clean as I go"- if I stop for anything, even a bathroom break, it takes me AGES to get back on track.

So, I push on, leaving a trail of destruction in my wake.