AWOL and my quest for green chillies

AWOL may not be totally appropriate usage here, because blogging that I do is not official or contracted. But that's what I feel, coming back after so long. February's sped past before I could clear the foggy thoughts of my mind and shake off that sense of waiting and my famous inertia. Big G's ballet performance, playing a relay with flu, cold, cough in the family, throwing-up episodes and birthday parties, yes, that about sums up February - the action stuff,  that is. No writing or  blogging, sense of fogginess and disorderliness has ruled. But I did manage to visit your blogs and comment, that was the easy part:)

If this was an excuse letter then I would plead it was green chillies that took up a lot of my mind space. In my after-flu convalescence, with one partially deaf ear, not that it matters, I forgot to put green chillies on the grocery list. Last minute scribbles on the back of used envelopes and discarded art paper that they are! Soon I exhausted the frozen chillies stock I had. No way could I tell the husband to get them for me mid-week because I've been often told to maintain a running list, old habits die hard:)

I remember once when I was an earnest 10-year old, and had gone with the colony bus to the nearby town I brought back, with other stuff, half-kilo of green chillies! Even the vegetable seller double-checked, but I was sure I needed that much. Back home, I did not care how the family managed to consume that amount. You couldn't really send over green chillies to the neighbours. Yes, we are a family fond of our green chillies, there are limits though.   Chilly boy, as Big G calls my Father, who must have green chillies with his afternoon meal. Freezing is my lazy way of dealing with the extras.

The regular store does not fall on my way, but that was ok. I had to my great joy discovered four new grocery stores in the vicinity of my Dutch classes. Which also means pomegranates will get easier to source now.  So over the course of two weeks, in between waiting for the bus,  I've visited practically each of these shops to buy chillies. Murphy is my BFF. I could tell you the sheer variety of chillies and peppers I've come across except the really hot, pungent ones which turn up the heat and flavour of food. Walked out wondering how the people living in that area manage their need for hotness. Harissa paste, I am told, is what they go for.

Was having a small slowdown in communication with the one friend from whom I could borrow green chillies. I did not understand why she refused to have tea at my place, we had a lot of time, and I did ask thrice. I don't believe in force-feeding adults. The next day we went to tea at her place and I put that incident out of my mind. Yes, it can hold very little and see, I indeed did forget to ask her for chillies.

So I've got used to an omlette sans green chillies or even idli chutney, made from green chutney, passable. I have given myself a hard talking to about the state of things. To top it, I wasn't too happy about the fact that I had to pay a library fine for a book I'd only half-read. Luckily, the grocery store is close to the library and I was sure my quest for chillies would end. As luck would have it, I had to wait for the husband to finish something before I could step out to the library, buy my chillies and pick up kids from school. Dependence is not a great thing; I waited in vain. Rushed to the library, rushed out and it was already school-out time. A rueful glance at the grocery store with an I'll-be-back intention. That was 5 days ago.

Another week, and one child each has stayed home on Monday and Friday. Laundry loads, attention to kids, almost no time for myself, truant weather as always and I still remain chilli-less. Isn't there always a tomorrow?

Edited to add: Finally, got 'em. Don't they look colourful and promising?