Following Directions has not been my forte. For example, when I cook, hell, when I enter my kitchen my appliances laugh. So, two days ago I attempted to cook for a family gathering. Please, dear reader, understand when I cook, it’s total experimentation. Cook Books and I are not in the same genre. I prefer Romantic Mysteries: Swamp Mysteries. I digress.
Betty Crocker (circa 1970) opened to page 371, a gathering of supplies needed to attack…da da…potato salad. After a concentrated effort…yes, wait for it…success. Sincere family compliments flowed over me like a deserved RITA award. At least I think they were sincere.
There’s a writers lesson here. When I think of it I’ll let you know or when you think of it let me know. Meanwhile I’m staying away from the kitchen, cook books, and Betty.
Eleanor Tatum 
Nobody died; you’re good. That is my criteria for success in the kitchen.
Indeed. Now, if someone would just clean up.