As I sit here writing this post it’s almost 11:00 AM on Thursday Aug. 18. On Saturday, two days from now, I’m in charge of the food for the Cherry Creek Chorale‘s annual picnic which will involve at least 80 people. (Follow the link for info about our upcoming concert season; posts will be starting up next week over on my “Behind the Music” page about some of the pieces we’ll be performing.) At least this year we’re not hosting the event at our house; for the past two years we’ve schlepped tables and chairs from our church and set them up in our back yard and then schlepped them all back. While we’ve always totally enjoyed the event itself, we’re very grateful not to have to be responsible for all that setup this year.
The little cat is a good illustration of how I typically feel about this time before a big event. My stomach is roiling, my heart is pounding, and I’m just not sure how the whole thing is going to go, even though I know perfectly well that it will be fine. There always seems to be some particular element that gives me the heebie-jeebies (an expression my dear father was fond of using). This time it’s the shredded chicken for the burritos. How am I going to get it all cooked? Will I be able to do that over at the place where we’re meeting? Will I get the timing right so that the chicken will be all ready on time but not done so far ahead that it’ll dry out? Etc.