Harrowing

I'm not a nervous person. I'm not paranoid over anything. I let my kids take the city bus. I leave my doors unlocked most of the time. I almost never lock my car. I let my kids walk to the canyon and play by the stream. I don't spend a lot of time worrying.

This week gave me a lot of reasons to worry. Let's start with Monday.

We've had a cold snap, and as luck would have it, our furnace went out. Fortunately, we have a wood stove and a pellet stove. I let Ammon stay home from school 'sick'. He had a headache, sore throat, and good grades. I'm merciful. He begged to be able to light a fire in the basement stove. I let him, and he built a roaring one. About 4 hours later, I decided to take a shower. Ammon was engrossed with some adventure on the computer and my little guy was wandering around amusing himself. As I stepped out of the shower, my little leprechaun came to me with his hands clamped over his mouth. "My wip caught on fire!" was all he said.
"Your wip?" I pried his hands from his mouth and saw that he had a pretty good blister forming on his top lip. I tried to get him to be more specific, but no luck. I couldn't figure out what he could have burned it on. Then I remembered the wood stove. I grabbed Ammon and we ran downstairs.
I couldn't believe what I saw. The stove's door was hanging open, and a burning log was balancing on the edge of the stove and the hearth. A few inches under the log was a comforter all bunched up. Then I looked on the rug and found a long stick that had the top 5 inches charred. I could tell from this evidence exactly what had happened. He'd used a hot pad to open the door, and a log had come tumbling out. He'd grabbed a stick to try to get it back in. The stick caught on fire, a pretty good one by the look of it, and he'd brought it up to his mouth to blow out. The flames burned his lip and he'd dropped it. Miraculously, he'd been able to blow that fire out.

Can you believe it? You'd think nothing else that could happen this week would top that, right?

Until today.

I had an appointment to schlep one of my kids to this morning, so the house was filthy when I finally made it home at about 10 am. I let my little guy play alone in the front yard while I cleared the table and wiped it. I joined him in the front yard on my way to empty the trash. Up by the road, I could see a man about six houses down, walking around some mailboxes. Being more than my share of nosy, I scrutinized him. He saw me watching and struck a casual 'I'm not up to no good' pose against the mailbox of an elderly couple from our church. I decided to go call them and make sure they knew him. I gathered up my little one and started to walk inside. The only problem was, the guy was no longer standing still, he was walking toward me! I came inside and walked straight to the phone and called the police dispatch. There was still a part of me that would feel too stupid calling 911 on some random guy out for a walk.
The dispatcher was calm and encouraging, asking for all the details. I'd barely begun, when the doorbell rang.
I peeked out the window and it was HIM! I frantically whispered this to the police lady, and she asked me if my door was locked. My heart dropped. It wasn't. I quietly set down the phone and tiptoed to the door. I locked it as silently as I could. I locked the kitchen door too and ran back to the phone. "Just so you know, the police are on their way.... What's he doing now? I looked again, and he was gone! I hadn't seen him leave, I had no idea which way he'd gone.
She thanked me for calling, and asked if I was calm enough to hang up. I'm always calm during the actual crisis, so I was fine. She told me some police would be by to talk to me soon. I hung up the phone and looked around.

Shoot! The house was a mess! I spent the next few minutes scrubbing egg yolk off my dining room benches and putting away all the scriptures on the couches.

In just a few minutes, a policeman was at my door. He had the best news ever: they caught the guy one block away, and he had his pockets full of stolen mail and credit cards. One officer told me he was a home-burgling meth addict "a freaking walking crime spree". Since I'd seen him at it, he obviously had some intentions here. He told the police he planned to get in my house by asking to use the bathroom. "As if this wasn't creepy enough!" the cop said.

So there you go. My house didn't burn down, my little guy just has a scab on his lip. I didn't get ravished and plundered by a meth-riddled criminal. Everything's fine, but I'm not sure if I feel less safe, or more so. I definitely feel protected through all this, and I'm very grateful.

Unforgiven

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! *

Marriage- I teared up watching this one.

How To Cook a Wolf

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!

Eargirl's Political Rant

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.

Guys, he's not a Muslim. (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.

He's not the devil, or the antichrist as some emails actually purport. I think he's a good man that wants the best for his country.
I used to listen to talk radio all day to fill the silence during quiet times and as an escape during the hectic times. I would get all fired up at some 'outrage' the other side had committed that day. Then I remember listening to General Conference, and there was a talk that addressed the tendency to demonize those on the other side of the aisle, to really and actually believe that their only goal is to destroy the 'good guys' in government. As I was listening, I wanted to cover my ears and hum aloud. The speaker had no idea how evil the other guys really were! Some time passed, and I changed my habits. When I would turn on the radio, those beloved familiar voices seemed shrill and gave me heartburn.
Now, I've gone years without listening to a single political ad. For the presidential election, I went to Wikipedia and studied their platforms and voting records. I've taken an honest look at the candidates personally, and I find them both to be decent. I can see some possible benefits if either of them are elected.
Hopefully, in the next term, the war in Iraq will wind to a close; the markets (cross your fingers) will stabilize, and Americans will catch a clue on living within their means. Both candidates want this. Who will be sitting in the oval office isn't nearly as important as the way we behave in our own personal lives. Instead of freaking over political things largely beyond our scope of influence, worry over these things: speaking kindly to members of your own family, be completely honest in your dealings, help other people, and bring your friends brownies! (hint, hint)

ER Adventures *Graphic Photos*

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!

The Love of Strange Brew

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.