Tuesday, May 31, 2011
He's afraid of pink in the pork, and all the health conditions that could possibly come of under-cooked pork. I think he may have a type of paranoia. Although his knowledge in the kitchen is somewhat limited, he also knows that the meat thermometer states that pork needs to be a scorching-meat-drying 160 degrees Fahrenheit. I've always known that was a load of crap. So, I ignore the thermometer when I cook pork, and just go by gut instinct.
When I was reading the paper the other morning and saw the new FDA guidelines for cooking pork, I put the paper in his face and told him I was right all along, and rubbed my rightness in his face.
Now, I no longer have to be sneaky when I cook pork and he asks me, "is the temperature right?" I no longer have to lie and say, "Yes dear. I checked it (which I never did), and it won't kill us or give us diarrhea."
What a relief to not have to lie anymore!
In other kitchen-related news, my whole family is a bit bugged at me. I threw away R2 the trash can while they were at work/school. I think they are nostalgically sad. Too bad. I was sick of that old trash can always being in the way in the kitchen, and I was sick of always having to clean crap off of it because the kids can't seem to throw away anything without rubbing it all over R2's head first.
My plan was to get a can under the sink. But, the dang disposal and pipes take up lots of space and they don't make skinny enough trash cans for that space. So, for now, I'm doing a Grandma Ginger and using paper grocery sacks.
I miss my grandma and her Harmon's grocery sacks.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
A couple of days ago, Sarah was calling from the school. Apparently, I answered the phone when she was in mid-middle-schooler-girly-yackity-yak-conversation. This is what I heard when I picked up the phone.
"I'm afraid of rapists!. . . . . Mom???" giggle giggle giggle, mixed with some hysterical laughter. It kind of made my afternoon.
Back in February, we had an awesome experience. A friend of ours who was baptized in our old ward, went to the temple. He also took his wife. We were fortunate to be at the sealing with their family. Nothing beats seeing little kids in the temple with diapers and binkis. It was a special moment for everyone who was there. They had a child who had died as a baby, and I got to be proxy for that daughter as she was sealed to her parents and three other siblings. Moments like those make everything seem so clear and focused - what matters, what's good and right, and what I just don't need to worry and fret about. It was so sweet.
I wish those feelings could stay with me always. But I'm glad I have memories of those feelings to remind me of what's important.
A nice man in our ward was just baptized on Saturday. His sweet wife has been a member of our church for just under 2 years, and recently made temple covenants. Again, seeing him be baptized and making those covenants help make everything so clear. It's the new branches being grafted in to the old tree and root, and it strengthens and energizes the old "lifers" in the church. I'm looking forward to when he goes to the temple to further keep those covenants.
There is nothing quite like missionary work. Nothing. It motivates, energizes, strengthens, puts things in perspective, and helps me with my funks. And it's an added bonus to have a good set of Elder's in our ward. They're at our house often and I love their guts. One guy, Elder Ball, is only about 6 weeks fresh. They came to our house on Mother's Day to call their Mom's. Missionaries can only call home twice a year - on Christmas and on Mother's Day. When Elder Ball went upstairs to call home, he said, "I'll probably cry a lot." He made me cry when he came downstairs after talking to his family. He could barely talk, he was so emotional. He's a cutie.
Tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment. I get to make my appointment to have an ultrasound in about 2 weeks. People ask if I'm going to find out if the baby is a boy or girl. Heck yeah. I don't want to be in the delivery room when I find out "It's a girl!" and have a little Debbie Downer moment.
Monday, May 16, 2011
We filled in the sink-hole in our back yard, and put in garden boxes.
Here's to hoping our garden grows.
Sarah is a digger! It's nice to have 3 adult bodies when there's physical labor to be done.
A couple of days ago, Kate and I were at the bank. I hopped out of the van to go to the ATM. When I returned, Kate said, "MOM! You won't believe this! The guy next to us had to roll down his window like this!" And she mimicked the manual window-roller-downers. I had a good laugh. I told her that I remember when the only cars with automatic window roller-downers were the fancy cars.
Pretty funny, considering both of our cars only have cassette tape players. No cd players or mp3 jacks. Good thing for those cassette tapes with the wire that hooks to your phone/mp3 player. They work pretty good!
So, the toilet in our down stairs bathroom has been malfunctioning ever since Kate ejected the scrubbing bubbles non-flushable toilet cleaning head into the bowl, and none of our paws could get to it. That toilet was already dubbed the "Don't poop in that toilet!" because it never did flush well.
Saturday, Neal decided to get the scrubber out. He removed the toilet and went for the clog from the bottom. Not only did he find a scrubbing bubbles non-flushable toilet scrubber, he also found a clam shell. A real clam shell. Like from the beach. It wasn't small, and I'm certain it wasn't from us. It explains why that toilet never did flush well.
It's now a full-service toilet. Which means the entry way could occasionally smell of poo.
Tonight is Keizer Public Works Day. Free hot-dogs at the fire house, and a ready-made family night. Woo Hoo! And, don't forget the handsome fire fighters.
Friday, May 13, 2011
And I'm the stupid idiot mom who didn't stuff her child's pants into her rain boots. There was a lot of mud.
This is often what I find in my bed. And those are only some of the horses. We have too many.
Monday, May 2, 2011
So, a couple of days ago, I was sitting in my family room, looking out the sliding glass door, when I noticed a very large bird. I stood up, got closer, and realized that it was a blue heron - landing on the roof top of a house in back of us. Just like Sarah insisted happened late one night. . . and we laughed her to scorn and thought she was imagining things. He disappeared before I was able to whip out my camera.
Sarah felt very vindicated at my sighting.
Buh-Bye, Miss American Car! Most of you start to get really expensive at around 100k miles. Our American-Made car only lasted to 111,000, with many costly repairs starting at around 80,000. Only handy mechanics like your Americana, but we are not handy, nor mechanics. But, we are American. Case in point: we cheered last night when a breaking news alert interrupted our AFV Sabbath tradition and announced that Osama Bin Laden was dead. I even went through a mental inventory in my head of our garage contents to see if we had any old fireworks we could explode. Nope.
Note to self: keep fireworks on hand.
Anyway, through the magic of Craigslist, I listed the car and sold it in about 10-20 minutes, then turned around and bought a Toyota Camry all in an hour! Not just any Camry, but a Camry owned by an 87 year old woman, with low miles and not a scratch on the paint. And, a great deal to boot.
A couple of days ago, Abby was standing at the edge of my bed, playing with 2 partially clad barbies. They were talking to each other, of course. Usually one asks the other if she wants to go to Target and get some popcorn and a soda. Then, I heard her say something that made me listen very carefully. She was saying, "How are you, honey?" But what I heard was "Hi! Are you horny?"