I've been pretty busy this week. Kaylee had a 4H show Saturday. She got a little overambitious and signed up for 6 projects. I practically had to beat her to get her to finish them all. She showed her projects and then we waited...and waited...and waited.
These crazy kids decided to lay on the concrete floor while they waited. My poor, deprived child was the only human being in the building who wasn't glued to an electronic screen of some sort - Ipads, Ipods, Nintendos, cell phones...everyone was in a complete trance. It looked like the zombie apocalypse had already started. I guess it's the way of the world now, which is frightening.
Anyway, all of the hard work and torture paid off, though, because 3 hours later she got county champion for her embroidery project - even after she told the judge it was hard and she was never doing it again! Gotta admire her honesty.
That evening, something insanely rare and exciting happened. The kids were all gone so I figured Frank would have his head stuck up his Jeep's butt all night and I'd be left to entertain myself (as usual). Imagine my shock when he opened the front door, stuck his head in and said, "We could go on a date tonight. Anywhere you want. I might even shower and shave first." He had me at "shower". Once I scraped my chin off the floor, suspicion kicked in and I found myself wondering if it was a trick. Maybe he just needed a load of wood from Menards. Or maybe he wanted to go on a date with the Jeep. But I played along because it has been YEARS since we've gone on a date. So I waited....and waited...and waited...and WAITED. Finally, I casually stepped outside to see what the hold up was.
I found him installing speakers in the Jeep. "Just half an hour longer" is what he promised, so I went back in to wait.
I have no clue why he made the "tooth face" at me. He usually reserves it for when he's angry.
By 6:30 I gave up and started watching a movie. It took him until after 7 to decide it was time to go, therefore we didn't have time to eat AND go see Spiderman in 3D. We settled for Wendy's drive through. Hey, I'll take what I can get! On a side note, Spiderman was fantastic - better than the original, if you ask me. But you know you're old when you can't get comfy in the movie theater seats and your joints get stiff from holding hands over the arm rest. Sad, isn't it? All in all, it was nice to spend some time with my husband!
I was an awful mom the other night. I told the kids I wasn't cooking dinner. They acted like I should be reported to DCFS. They both kept saying, "But we wanted chicken salad!" I told them feel free to make it themselves. And that's exactly what Kaylee did. I hovered until she shooed me out of the kitchen. Imagine that - ME, getting kicked out of my own kitchen! I gotta tell you, she made some good chicken salad. And if that weren't enough, she even did all of the cleanup! And, even better than that, she didn't beat the crap out of her brother for playing computer games while she did all the work. The icing on the cake - she even shared with him. This kid is a saint. (Well, sometimes.)
I've put it off long enough. It was time to do something about my 52,000 ripe tomatoes that were wasting away in the garden. "I'll just do a batch of spaghetti sauce. Heck, while I'm at it I may as well do a double batch and get it over with". I picked FORTY POUNDS of tomatoes. And as usual, I waited until the hottest part of the day to do it. I look at it as going to a tanning bed for free.
About an hour into it I began realizing some things. 1. I'm an idiot for picking 40 lbs of tomatoes at one time. 2. Sane people do not can spaghetti sauce. 3. I hate tomatoes and never want to see one again. (Not really. I ate a bowl of them for lunch.)
While I cored and peeled 6 million tomatoes, Frank went outside and dehydrated peppers. I got the raw end of the deal here, don't you think?
I have no clue what this thing is or what it was originally intended to be used for, or even where it came from. I've had it my whole adult life and use it for a variety of things - scooping noodles or other wet substances, pulling tomatoes out of boiling water, serving salad. You can also use it as a microphone to sing along to Led Zepplin as you boil tomatoes, but only when no one is around. What can I say? I get easily distracted. I think I have a touch of ADHD.
This is me, in the midst of misery. Nah, not really. I actually kind of enjoy canning. Well, for the first hour or so, anyway. Do me a favor and just ignore my beautiful hair and lack of makeup.
I had tomato juice EVERYWHERE. In my hair, on my face and clothing, on the wall, all over the floor, on my cookbooks, on my camera, and even in my eye. It looked like a crime scene in here.
Now, who wants to come over and clean this mess up?
Here's the crazy part of this whole thing. 40 lbs of tomatoes yields about 6 1/2 quarts of sauce. That's it. It still amazes me every time.
Yesterday's canning fiesta resulted in a mopping party today. I don't mop nearly often enough, but when I do it, I do it the old fashioned way. If I'm being completely honest, I pretty much suck at the whole house cleaning thing. I don't do nearly enough. Perfect example - my oldest just moved stuff off of the trunk to get a board game out....and said, "Eewww, dust!"When I mop, though, I get down on my hands and knees and scrub. It takes over half an hour but it's the only way to truly get the floor clean. It also gives me the chance to think about how much I want new flooring and how gross and hairy my dogs are. I swept for 10 minutes and there was still hair everywhere. I can't believe I'm admitting this, but I ended up just mopping over the remaining hair. My floors are in rough shape - scratched, stained, "well loved". I view it as history. If these floors could talk they'd have all kinds of interesting stories. Like the time Kaylee spilled orange nail polish all over the place and cried about it, or the time I got more hair dye on the floor than I did in Jess's hair. Or the time Ethan spilled easter egg dye everywhere. Actually, that happens yearly, now that I think about it. Then there was the time some fool let me loose in the house with paint. I was supposed to be painting the walls but the floor ended up with some "added highlights". There was also the time Ethan went through a "Heely's shoe" phase. You know, those goofy shoes with wheels? He scratched the heck out of the wood floor.
Evidently one or more of my family members either threw their gum on the floor when they finished with it, or they stepped in some kind of sticky substance and then kindly went for a long stroll through the entire house.
My back hates it when I mop. The bad discs in my back protest by threatening to pop out of place. You know you're old when you can't even mop your floor without being in pain. Mopping on my hands and knees usually results in me mopping half the house - walls, light switches, baseboards...and especially the "no man's land" by the fridge. Why is it that when someone misses the trash can they just leave it back there on the floor? Do they think there are tiny little trash elves back there that will take care of it? There is always an interesting array of forgotten items in that corner.
This is my husband. I have to remind myself of what he looks like because he works midnights - 3 days on and 2 days off, and is gone 14 hrs/day. This was his first official ride to work in the Jeep! I'm just hoping it doesn't break down and I have to drive 2 hrs to bring him home at 3:30 a.m.
Seriously, this Jeep is so "him". They go perfectly together. I tend to get a little hot and bothered when I see him driving it. Ok, too much info. I can almost hear my kids groaning, "Eewww, gross!"
I got a most interesting text message this evening. But I can't even talk about it because I'm trying to be mature for my children. Being the mature adult is so stinking hard! Sometimes I just don't want to be!
Things I learned:
1. It takes my husband longer than a woman to get ready.
2. Don't squeeze tomatoes while simultaneously trying to take a photo. You may get caught up in pretending it's the neck of someone you hate and tomato juice will inevitably wind up all over your camera lens.
3. Don't assume the stuff in the bottom of the bucket is "dirt" and throw tomatoes in with it. It just might end up being the bucket your husband used to clean out the chicken coop. So THAT'S what the stink was. Oops. Mom, if you're reading this, relax. A little poop never hurt anyone. I'm KIDDING! I washed them with soap first.
4. Once you realize you're in over your head and you have no desire to finish the tomato canning process, pop open one of these. They're disgusting, but will do in a pinch. (I have no idea why Frank bought them in the first place. Neither of us likes them. They've just been sitting in there forever, begging to be drank. What better time to drink disgusting beer than when you're up to your elbows in tomato juice - LITERALLY, it was running down my arms!) But don't drink too many or you'll completely forget how to can the tomatoes.
5. Rather than hating your enemies and ending up in the ER due to a stroke, turn that hate into constructive energy and clean your sad, neglected deck!
6. Certain people will ALWAYS attract psychos. They just never learn from their past mistakes. It's actually kinda funny to sit back and watch the train wreck approaching.
No comments:
Post a Comment