Standing a far distance from a perfectionist, I do like things done correctly although I must admit that occasionally (or maybe quite often), close enough will do. In my “close enough” depiction I admit that I prefer things done my way.
Always open to new ideas and frequently grabbing these full force, once I start, I plunge onward to see the job done. The good side – things get done; the bad side – they may not be completed to the specifications of the original plan. I’ll share some examples with you.
Bags for an upcoming event… Working with a local business owner, purple bags were ordered and key benefactors noted appropriately on one side of the bag. At two minutes before printing a request arrived to add a new logo.
You bet! I was surprised because I did not contact this business (although it had been in my thoughts), but bravo and forge on. Seconds ago, an email arrived asking who had contacted the business with the name of the place that appears on the bags.
No one, it seems, as give or take a few letters, rearranged as necessary, the similarity of the companies is astounding, but wrong. Apologies are in order, however, beyond that, will “close enough” do?
When we lived in Antelope Valley, 61 miles south of Battle Mountain, close enough construction became our call name. We resolved many a complication with baling twine and duct tape. While not the perfect fix, these two products held things together until a trip to the big city became possible.
During the summer we hauled hogs to California and then stopped at Costco to replenish our food supplies. Even though there were just 6 of us, we seemed constantly hungry so a flatbed of purchases became a common sight.
Packed to the top we shuffled things into the pickup and trailer or stuffed items between the kids as we continued the 200+ miles back to the farm. If we forgot something, “close enough” bailed (not baled) us out. And it almost always worked.
Being perishable, we often ran low on milk. 5 miles away we could buy a gallon or two, fresh from the cow. Grazing in clover fields, there is nothing quite like the sweet flavor of pasture dairy products.
I had decided to make tapioca pudding for a treat. Unfortunately, I poured the last of the milk into the pan to discover I fell a cup short. No problem – close enough to the rescue – we had some baby formula for Allison.
What could the difference be? Actually, quite a bit. I pretended that everything was normal as Lynn tasted, pursed his lips, and pondered the unique flavor. “Something isn’t right.” Confess the substitute or carry on? That was the question. The answer? I’ll let you guess.
One Thanksgiving my mom joined us at the farm. Everything was ready to bake except the pumpkin pie. I had every ingredient except I was short a couple of eggs. The solution? Follow our hens on their meandering paths until I found their latest hidey-hole nest. Here, there, in the haystack or under shrub, I finally rounded up the necessary ingredients. This time, close enough wasn’t needed – thanks, hens!
At a recent Bunco gathering we indulged in a dessert I had designed and requests were made for the recipe. “The real one or the ‘When in doubt - punt’ version. Because they know me, they asked for both.
A multi-layer trifle, the original and one that have replicated many times, might look like the attached photo. However, being in a hurry, I dashed to a nearby store to soon realize that many ingredients were not in stock.
And thus… punt. No vanilla pudding, I had chocolate. No angel food cake, the store had chocolate muffins. No strawberries, blueberries and blackberries must suffice. The beautiful bowl, my stem had broken so I had to make use of a glass mixing bowl – transparent but not lovely. I also added bananas because, in essence, nothing beats the taste. Close enough? Not really, but my version matches the mantra, “When in doubt – punt!”
Feeling inspired I am ready to launch a new cookbook and would love to use your family favorite. I promise to cook it once following directions with precision (close enough precision?), and then create an encore using ingredients on hand. With no intent of destroying your tradition, I’d just have fun taking a chance on variety. Are you in?