I don’t know why winter is kicking my ass so bad this year, we’ve only been doing the pre-match stare down so far.
It’s autumn.
Lame analogy: it’s like cooking a roux. Late stage, I mean (same as the year). So in spring I tossed in the shambles of last year’s winter (butter, milk, flower) and mixed them into something useful.
Now in pre-match winter I have to keep stirring and keep things in motion for things to remain smooth, but I lost my wooden stirring spoon. It’ll come back to me. But what happens is the roux starts to form a filament, thick and cruddy, while underneath it everything keeps simmering. I feel blocked, just like that.
If I keep the saucepan on the stove as is, blobs will form from the roux’s depths and violently burst their way through the filament, splattering sauce everywhere, messing up the kitchen. Then, further neglect would ruin the saucepan itself. I can put the heat down and let everything come to somewhat of a standstill, but I can’t put it out and set the roux aside because in this analogy I am the stove, the saucepan, the roux, and the kitchen. In other words, turning off the stove is suicide.
I’ll let you figure the other lame metaphors. I’m only trying to give some background information, so that you know what I mean when I say ‘I feel blocked’. What’s left is just this ongoing simmering, with no way out, and the cold of dwindled flame that keeps it.
I need a stirring spoon.
