Have any of you accidentally caught your little guy's pee pee in a zipper?
Hell hath no fury, my friends, no fury at all like an injured three year old.
*All kinds of interesting and clever things have been going on in my house and it's driving me crazy. Blogger is not uploading any of my photos, so I'm out of luck. One of these days, when it works again, I hope I can remember all of it! *
I'd like to introduce you to a new acquaintance of mine. She's a food lover, and a writer. 
Her name is MFK Fisher, and she wrote this book back in 1942 when food shortages and rations were at their worst. Her book is quirky, and reads more like a novel than a cookbook. There's a sly sensuousness about her writing that hints that she doesn't just savor food. 
I love the almost antique recipes she's picked up all over Europe, like bread baked in flower pots. Apparently, it's unforgettable. Here's a snippet:
"Why can you not make the kind of round loaf, perhaps with a cross slashed on the top of it, that you used to see through the cellar door when you walked home from the theater late at night in France? the white-faced baker's boy, with flour in his eyebrows, his pores, and probably his lungs, slid it surely, intensely, on a long shovel into the blaze of an open oven. It was naked, like a firm-hipped woman, without the benefit of metal girdings. It came out, in an hour or so ready for next breakfast, round and brownly even and filled with an honorable savor. It was good bread, and you can make it."
See what I mean about slightly naughty?
There are all kinds of recipes in this book. I carried this book around with me everywhere for a couple of weeks. It was very useful in entertaining Ammon through his minor surgery reading aloud the directions for frying calf brains. There was one recipe that just stuck in my imagination, and I had to try it last night.
Green Garden Soup
2 Tbs butter or good oil 1 handful parsley
1 bunch watercress 2 cans chicken or beef broth
1/2 head lettuce 1 egg yolk
3 small onions and tops 1/2 cup thick cream (if possible)
2 or 3 cabbage leaves 4 celery stalk tops
1 sprig thyme or marjoram salt and pepper
She uses a mortar and pestle to grind all the vegetables together. I'm fresh out to those, so I put a little broth in the blender and whirled away. Then you simmer the green stuff in oil for about 10 minutes. You add the broth, cover and simmer for about 45 minutes. Then you beat the egg yolk and cream together, and add after the soup is in the tureen, if you happen to have a tureen. Then you sprinkle with some pepper.
This soup had the most amazing taste. I served it with fresh baked bread. I could almost feel the vitamins in the soup!
I can't wait until this election is over. Know why? The chain emails. They drive me insane. Some people think that the only way to get the 'real truth' out there is to forward some ghastly and ridiculous story to their entire address book. They don't bother to check if they're passing along a hoax or not. People, 99.9% of the time, if you get an email warning you, informing you, or begging for your help in finding a child, IT IS A LIE! Really. Just google the key words of the email, and you'll find out if it's real in less than a minute. Check before you click forward, I'm begging you.
I have political views that are different from Barak Obama's. I disagree with him on some pretty fundamental issues, but the lies that are spread about him are obscene.
(Even if he was, there are billions of perfectly nice Muslims out there. I've met some. Anti Muslim emails really get to me too.) He's a US citizen. He does, in fact, salute the flag. 
When he visits the troops, he does shake their hands. I got an email the other day 'quoting' him as saying that he hates our national anthem because it's taking sides. He wants our anthem to be I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing. It's a lie. Those quotes were stolen from a political satire written as a joke. 
Something miraculous happened in our family today. There was a medical crisis, and my husband was home! You gotta love that. My poor little Hercules. (that's what I've decided to call him) Tonight was to be his first ever wii night of his very own. He's watched brother after brother have friends over to play. He's heard their laughter and sneaked some peeks. He's been counting the minutes for weeks, and he only had an hour til his friends arrived. I was making dinner, Hubby was across the street helping a neighbor, and the little boys were being silly, jumping around in the front room. It was all very peaceful until I heard the screams. I knew by the pitch that something was wrong. Both Hercules and his older brother were instantly hysterical. He was holding his head, and I could see blood, but I wasn't worried. Head wounds bleed a lot. My first thought was that we could just superglue it and he'd be fine. Then I pulled his hands back and my stomach flipped. This is a less bloody version of what I saw:
See that white there? That's his skull.
I ran to get some napkins and sent Blade across the street to get his dad. I applied direct pressure just like I'm supposed to and watched as Blade sauntered across the street. I found out later what he said.
"Dad, Hercules is donating blood."
"What?!"
"Hercules is donating blood and Mom needs you."
He came running. He met up in the entryway and saw my concern. I pulled back the napkins and he breathed out "Oh Shhhhhhhhhh......oot." I was proud of him. Blade was taking off in a few minutes for a football game so we put Ammon in charge and took off. We tried a nearby urgent care, a nurse came out to the car, took one look and sent us to the ER. All the time, Hercules was whimpering but still talking coherently. Luckily, my parents live only a few minutes away. They rushed over to our place to hold down the fort and clean up the blood.
One thing you need to know about this guy, is that he's tough. He made it through dental fillings by repeating his full name to himself followed by "and I can do hard things!". He was scared about the possibility of stitches, while I was wondering how in the world they are going to close this huge crater in his forehead.
While we waited, a triage nurse dressed the wound with a topical anaesthetic, so he was chipper and happy. He'd been promised a deck of yugioh cards when it was all done, and that was all he could think about. 
He played games on Daddy's phone, we made glove balloons, and then it was time for the stitches.
The Dr. couldn't get over how calm he was. He kept telling us about kids his age and the different ways they had to be restrained. He didn't even flinch when the needle went in. Look at that trusting face!
Here he is, and proud as can be. We'd shown him the photos, and he was beyond thrilled that he could see his skull. This will give him bragging rights for years, and a new deck of yugioh cards. Life doesn't get any better that that!
Saturday night, we settled down for another magical Netflix night. I'd been trolling the 'watch instantly' list for likely movies we'd enjoy, when I came upon Strange Brew. Do any of you remember Strange Brew? It came out in 1984, and is a forerunner of Nacho Libre. My husband was cleaning up after primering the walls in our new bedroom (yay!). I realized that my children had never before experienced the wonder that is Strange Brew. I started it so they could just have a taste of it until my husband came and we could watch something real. By the time he came, we were rolling with laughter. We ended up watching it together and having a ball. The only unintended consequence was at dinner the next day. The boys were quoting the movie and everyone was talking at once. One of my little boys was clamoring for a drink, and I let fly with "Blade, pass your brother the beer!" I didn't realize what I'd said until everyone stopped and stared at me. "Wait! I mean the water!" I cried out, but it was too late. There was no salvaging the situation. Alas.
I'm in a bad mood today, so I think I'll tell you about my college days.
See, my van has been acting a little off. It's not that old, and still under warranty, so my van is something I never have to worry about. Unless I'm on a road trip with friends. But my point is, my van is dependable. There are a lot of things I can't count on. The moods of my 3 year old, for instance. My kids remembering their lunches. My husband's day off actually being 'off'. But my van, well, she's there for me. A few days ago, she started kind of hiccuping when my AC was on. Today she had a seizure on the way to pick up the carpool kids. We barely made it to my mom's house to drop off Blade for his guitar lesson. My van was making funny noises, like something was loose under the hood, and shuddering. I took my parents car, dropped the kidlets off at their homes, and my beloved van is getting towed. And I have a nasty hole in my craft room ceiling. I just discovered that this morning. So it's been a bad day.
I think it's a great time to relive college.
Ever had a really, really bad boyfriend? A creepy, mentally ill boyfriend who thinks it's his god-given duty to call you to repentance if you sneak out at night with your roommates to buy pickles during finals week?
No?
Good for you.
You were smarter than me.
I spent a few years pondering exactly what part of this usually sensible girl would be attracted to that scenario, and I decided that I liked the romance of giving someone an extreme makeover. This guy really needed it, and I decided I was just the girl to help him! I ended up giving him the 'heave ho' when he was on his mission, and he's still trying to stalk me on Facebook. As in, just a few days ago. Fifteen years later. Creepy, huh?
That was my freshman year at Ricks College. With the exception of Mr. Creepy Boyfriend (who ended up being a cop, oh the irony!) Ricks College was the happiest place on earth. I had a ball! The dances, the dunes, the caves, the bridges to jump off of. The trips to Salt Lake City in the bed of a pickup (thank goodness for the camper shell!) The late-night talks with roomies. I would love to relive those days. I only got a few pictures from my dad's the other day, but here they are.
I'm home for Christmas, and one of my family's favorite games is 'hide and seek in the dark'. We take it very seriously, as you can tell from the dark clothing. Looking at this picture now, I think the leggings I was wearing as pants must have been a bit thin. I hope I was wearing a long shirt or something! Ah well, the lights were off most of the time.
Here I am in my beloved U2 shirt with my mom for mother's week. That was a blast! My hair was shoulder length when I left for school, and here I'd just chopped it.
Here it is, even shorter! I think this picture was taken in the Snow building. Anyone else play sardines in the Snow bldg? Could there be a better place to play that in? After hitting the books for 4 semesters, I decided to transfer to a University in my hometown.
I couldn't believe it. I'd been in a town just swimming with eligible guys, and here I was returning home, single. I had withered on the vine. I was an ancient 19. I was pretty worried. One of the first things I did, was go to a single adult dance. Who did I find there? Tons of people who were old when I started going to youth dances! I'd left my beloved room mates behind, and moved back in with my parents to get old.
There was a spark of hope, however.
A certain hunky blond babe was just returning from his mission. Oh what luck!
Here we right by the bench I was sitting on when he proposed to me. It's in a grove out in front of the Seattle temple. I'll tell you the whole story another time. It's a thrilling tale, and I'm still in a bad mood.
Eek!
