Through a Glass, Darkly

Tomorrow I am going to Grandma’s house to learn how to make tomato juice. Now, I have noticed that when I say “tomato juice” I get a violently negative response. Let me just say that Grandma’s homemade tomato juice beats the crap (except Grandma wouldn’t say crap) out of any store-bought tomato juice there is. Grandma’s is not as thick, and it has more flavor. Even Mike now admits its greatness, and he was repulsed by the idea at first. I use it a lot when I am making soup, especially vegetable soup or beef stew. It’s also really good to drink when it’s cold. Last summer when I had mono and I was sick to my stomach a lot, my mom brought me several jars of tomato juice. She said that it always helps her feel better. I have to say . . . it was one of the few things I could keep down. Grandma’s tomato juice has magical healing powers. Since I love it so much, I need to learn to make my own and stop mooching off Grandma. It’s like I’m Harry Potter, learning spells from the master! I, too, will learn the ways of the magical tomato juice! (Except, Grandma probably wouldn’t approve of Harry Potter, either.)

So tomorrow, if you need me, I’ll be in Grandma’s kitchen. I’ll be the short one wearing a bandana. (It gets pretty humid in Grandma’s kitchen. I don’t want to have big hair.)