Here it is: the dangerous rice pot.
If you read Chathaboune’s site and mine, you might have noticed the occasional mention of the rice pot. And now the Water Jar has weighed in with the suggestion of the automatic rice pot. (Go out and get one of those right away, by the way). The Emo King has bought one for himself, doubtless to show how reckless and devil-may-care a guy he is. And I had an email suggesting that “The Perilous Rice Pot” would make a good name for a band. So I figure some of you need a picture.
My husband will not allow either of our daughters to have one of these rice pot-and-basket things. They are necessary for cooking “sticky” rice, which is not sticky at all. It is dry, but the grains of rice stay together so you can eat it sort of like bread. We usually make both kinds of rice at our house, sticky and “sweet” or Jasmine rice, which is the kind of rice you usually see in the U.S.
My husband says that the girls will burn themselves if they try to use this very ordinary object, which they have had in their home for literally their entire lives.
I do not say that this makes sense. I think it is his way of continuing to be their father who protects them even though they are big grown-up women who live elsewhere now.
Of course we laugh at him about this. However, it is also the case that any one of us could just go buy a rice pot. We don’t have to show the shop owner that we have Daddy’s permission. But we are accustomed to obeying Daddy, so we are all waiting for him to decide that the girls are mature enough to be trusted with a rice pot. What can I say? Most families have something irrational in their interactions. Ours is fairly mild.
In honor of parental protectiveness, tonight’s song is “All Through the Night.”
This lovely Welsh tune has been given all sorts of English translations, including some specifically for Christmas. It is often sung at Christmastime, in all of its versions. The Welsh have a glorious tradition of vocal music, and have contributed some of the most beautiful and singable tunes in the hymnals. You could, I suppose, add some instruments to this, but it also makes an excellent lullaby. If you sing it beautifully and with expression in the evening, while people are recuperating from one last meal of Thanksgiving leftovers, they will all join in, except the ones who are weeping with the sheer beauty of the thing.