The strange things we (don't) do with our hands

Last night, I was making food from an actual recipe and it called for 1/4 cup of orange juice. I had bought oranges for this specific purpose, as freshly squeezed is always, always better (not just in matters of cooking) but then I realized in a panic that I had no juicer.

There I was, frantically searching through cupboards, (or perhaps just sitting around, fully aware of the fact that there is no juicer in the house) my hands flailing, my heart racing. The recipe is called "Food to eat using a juicer" so it seemed kindof imperative that I find some type of solution to the dilemma.

It suddenly dawned on me as I smacked my hand to my forehead that I had 2 juicers, actually...(4, if you count the feet) The very appendages I was self-inflicting with. MY HANDS. They are the perfect juicers. They can hold back pulp and get more juice outta the little crap oranges I had than any machine. Cleaning them is so easy, and far more optional, really. And since I am the one that will consume my food, why should I care if my germs are in the meal? In fact, secretly, in a corner of my mind somewhere, I don't care if my germs are in the food I am going to feed you, either.

So I just used les mains and in two seconds, the disaster was over, the tornado had dissolved into a little spite-fire wind, we had made up, the piano wasn't split in two and I had orange juice.

Which made me wonder why-on-earth do we have juicers in the first place? Or half the things that we fabricate, box up and sell to one another that replace what our hands do anyhow? It's so weird. My hands, which are the real juicer, were searching in vain for this fake juicer that I haven't bought yet, but wished for a moment I had.

Makes me a wee grouchy, thinking of all these objects that I have been trained to think actual function in the place of my body's own mechanisms. Like knives, for instance. When I first moved out alone, I didn't have a kitchen knife, and I found my mouth worked just fine for cutting up tomatoes. You remember that meal we had, right? Best spaghetti sauce you ever tasted.....