Happy Birthday Sweetheart!
We love you!
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Burnt Eddy's
For most of my life I've been known by family and friends as the woman who can ruin anything in the kitchen.
I've had so many cooking mishaps that everyone I know has at least one or two stories about something I've cooked that went horribly wrong.
In fact, the Island King's Uncle Kris was sitting in our kitchen one night and after being served a plate of burnt meatloaf he told us that he wanted to open a restaurant, name it Burnt Eddy's and let me do all of the cooking.
"It will be a hit" he said. "People will come from all over just to see what kind of disaster ends up on their plate."
And from that point on my kitchen has become known as Burnt Eddy's.
My children have all learned the fine art of scraping the burnt parts off with a knife - which in our house is a necessary skill.
But I didn't realize just how complacent my kids have become about burnt food until last night.
I put a tray of garlic bread under the broiler and then immediately forgot about it.
The smell of burning bread reminded me but by the time I got it out of the oven it was too late. The bread was burnt.
And then the smoke detector went off, which it does several nights a week, right about dinner time.
The Island Girl was on the phone and in response to her friend's question about the loud noise the Island Girl said "Oh, that's just the smoke detector."
Then she said "No, I don't need to go - everything is fine here."
Followed by "It's just my Mom cooking dinner. The smoke detector goes off almost every time she cooks."
Which is when I realized that instead of thinking "Fire!" when they hear the smoke detector, my kids immediately start opening all of the doors to ventilate the house and then head for the dinner table because they know supper is ready.
So at dinner I asked them what they would do if they heard the smoke detector in the middle of the night.
And to my dismay all three of them said "We'd come into the kitchen to see what you were fixing for a late night snack."
Damn.
We're going to have to have some serious fire safety talks with these kids but I just don't know what to tell them.
Because if they went running outside every time the smoke detector went off they'd miss dinner.
Obviously, the standard family fire safety plan isn't going to work at our house and I'm going to have to come up with some other plan.
Which doesn't surprise me since we've never been what you'd call a "standard" family anyway.
And if you were lucky enough to be dining at Burnt Eddy's last night this is what you'd have found on your plate.
Along with a knife for scraping.
Bon Appetit!
I've had so many cooking mishaps that everyone I know has at least one or two stories about something I've cooked that went horribly wrong.
In fact, the Island King's Uncle Kris was sitting in our kitchen one night and after being served a plate of burnt meatloaf he told us that he wanted to open a restaurant, name it Burnt Eddy's and let me do all of the cooking.
"It will be a hit" he said. "People will come from all over just to see what kind of disaster ends up on their plate."
And from that point on my kitchen has become known as Burnt Eddy's.
My children have all learned the fine art of scraping the burnt parts off with a knife - which in our house is a necessary skill.
But I didn't realize just how complacent my kids have become about burnt food until last night.
I put a tray of garlic bread under the broiler and then immediately forgot about it.
The smell of burning bread reminded me but by the time I got it out of the oven it was too late. The bread was burnt.
And then the smoke detector went off, which it does several nights a week, right about dinner time.
The Island Girl was on the phone and in response to her friend's question about the loud noise the Island Girl said "Oh, that's just the smoke detector."
Then she said "No, I don't need to go - everything is fine here."
Followed by "It's just my Mom cooking dinner. The smoke detector goes off almost every time she cooks."
Which is when I realized that instead of thinking "Fire!" when they hear the smoke detector, my kids immediately start opening all of the doors to ventilate the house and then head for the dinner table because they know supper is ready.
So at dinner I asked them what they would do if they heard the smoke detector in the middle of the night.
And to my dismay all three of them said "We'd come into the kitchen to see what you were fixing for a late night snack."
Damn.
We're going to have to have some serious fire safety talks with these kids but I just don't know what to tell them.
Because if they went running outside every time the smoke detector went off they'd miss dinner.
Obviously, the standard family fire safety plan isn't going to work at our house and I'm going to have to come up with some other plan.
Which doesn't surprise me since we've never been what you'd call a "standard" family anyway.
And if you were lucky enough to be dining at Burnt Eddy's last night this is what you'd have found on your plate.
Along with a knife for scraping.
Bon Appetit!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Not Everyone Can Appreciate A Good Time
For many years now I've been planning an event that one day WILL happen.
It's a Bucket List thing for me and the older I get the more determined to accomplish it I become.
I realize that most people who have a Bucket List have listed things that are creative or inspirational, things that will challenge them and add a sense of accomplishment to their lives.
I have things like that on my list too but I also have this...
On my 80th birthday I am going to drive to the top of the Mid Bay Bridge and stop.
From the top I'll have a clear view of the bridge all the way to the Toll Plaza.
Once there are no cars between me and the toll booth I'm going to accelerate until the car won't go any faster.
And as I get to the Toll Plaza I'm going to crash through the gate yelling
"I just ain't gonna pay no toll!"
Sound bizarre?
It gets better.
I've always wanted a shiny new Cadillac. I LOVE Caddies. But I have more of a Pinto budget and 3 kids so I'm stuck in a mini van.
But on toll booth crashing day I'm going to the Cadillac dealer to test drive a brand new model.
I'll drive it to the bridge and from there it will be a three minute, exhilarating, Bucket List fulfilling, rocket ship ride across the bridge and through the toll plaza.
I've told the kids all about my plan and we laugh about it every time we cross the bridge.
The first time I told them about it I said "I'm telling you this now so that when you get the call to come and get me out of jail you won't be surprised."
And then I learned a lot about my children.
The Island Girl said "I'm not going to bail you out. I'm going to tell them that you've been planning this for years and that you're crazy as a loon."
The Oldest Island Boy said "How much money do you think that will cost me? I'm going to have a nice car to pay for and if your bail is too much I won't be able to help you."
I was shocked.
Neither of them will bail their 80 year old mother out of jail?
Okay. That's fine. And if I ever get a call from them in jail I will remember this conversation.
I turned to the Youngest Island Boy and told him that I knew he'd bail me out. Right?
He smiled and said "I won't be able to bail you out because I'm going to be in the car with you - I wouldn't miss that for anything!"
I can see that.
I'm glad the children have made their stand on the whole thing because now I know that I'll need to hire a lawyer the day before, telling him to expect a call from me the next day.
I'm excited about the whole thing and have already started a savings account to pay for the damage to the Cadillac, the damage to the toll booth gate and the ginormous fee the lawyer will charge to keep my little old lady self out of jail.
I'm going to plead insanity and by then there will be barrels of evidence to support my claim so I don't think I'll have to do any jail time.
So now you know about my plan.
Which means you'll understand why what happened the other night was so ironic.
It's a Bucket List thing for me and the older I get the more determined to accomplish it I become.
I realize that most people who have a Bucket List have listed things that are creative or inspirational, things that will challenge them and add a sense of accomplishment to their lives.
I have things like that on my list too but I also have this...
On my 80th birthday I am going to drive to the top of the Mid Bay Bridge and stop.
From the top I'll have a clear view of the bridge all the way to the Toll Plaza.
Once there are no cars between me and the toll booth I'm going to accelerate until the car won't go any faster.
And as I get to the Toll Plaza I'm going to crash through the gate yelling
"I just ain't gonna pay no toll!"
Sound bizarre?
It gets better.
I've always wanted a shiny new Cadillac. I LOVE Caddies. But I have more of a Pinto budget and 3 kids so I'm stuck in a mini van.
But on toll booth crashing day I'm going to the Cadillac dealer to test drive a brand new model.
I'll drive it to the bridge and from there it will be a three minute, exhilarating, Bucket List fulfilling, rocket ship ride across the bridge and through the toll plaza.
I've told the kids all about my plan and we laugh about it every time we cross the bridge.
The first time I told them about it I said "I'm telling you this now so that when you get the call to come and get me out of jail you won't be surprised."
And then I learned a lot about my children.
The Island Girl said "I'm not going to bail you out. I'm going to tell them that you've been planning this for years and that you're crazy as a loon."
The Oldest Island Boy said "How much money do you think that will cost me? I'm going to have a nice car to pay for and if your bail is too much I won't be able to help you."
I was shocked.
Neither of them will bail their 80 year old mother out of jail?
Okay. That's fine. And if I ever get a call from them in jail I will remember this conversation.
I turned to the Youngest Island Boy and told him that I knew he'd bail me out. Right?
He smiled and said "I won't be able to bail you out because I'm going to be in the car with you - I wouldn't miss that for anything!"
I can see that.
I'm glad the children have made their stand on the whole thing because now I know that I'll need to hire a lawyer the day before, telling him to expect a call from me the next day.
I'm excited about the whole thing and have already started a savings account to pay for the damage to the Cadillac, the damage to the toll booth gate and the ginormous fee the lawyer will charge to keep my little old lady self out of jail.
I'm going to plead insanity and by then there will be barrels of evidence to support my claim so I don't think I'll have to do any jail time.
So now you know about my plan.
Which means you'll understand why what happened the other night was so ironic.
The Island King took Island Girl to a friend's house to spend the night and when he got home he said
"You'll never guess what I did. I ran the toll on the bridge."
Under any other circumstances I would have been upset to learn of a law breaking event, especially with our daughter in the car, but this is different.
All I could think of was
He ran the toll without me? That's my dream - not his. I can't believe he'd do that without me!
"Why?" was all I could say.
He says he came off the bridge and wasn't paying much attention (isn't that great to know?) and ended up in the Sunpass lane instead of the toll booth lane and by the time he realized it there were cars behind him and he had no choice but to drive on through.
With no Sunpass.
"Was it fun? When you realized there was no turning back did you accelerate and fly through there?"
He looked at me like I'd lost my mind and said "No it wasn't fun and no I didn't speed up. All I could think about was the $180 ticket that's going to show up in our mailbox next week and I panicked."
So he turned into the toll plaza office and went inside. He told the man in the office what had happened and the man told him that as soon as he went through the booth a picture was taken of his tag and sent off into the computer somewhere.
But this kind of thing happens often so he gave him a card to fill out and send in with the $2.50 toll payment. Apparently this will cancel out the ticket that's sure to come.
He said the Island Girl's reaction to the whole thing was hysterical. She kept saying "Don't do it!" as he was driving through the booth and that when he pulled in to the service office she breathed a big sigh of relief and told him that she was glad it was him and not me because she didn't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde.
She told him that "Mom would have hit White Point Rd doing 80 and yelling Woo-Hoo I Did It!!!"
And he said that once again she had to add that she is NOT going to bail me out when I do it.
I still can't believe he ran the toll and all he could think about was the ticket.
Since he obviously didn't enjoy it this time I won't be bringing him with me on my 80th birthday.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Tree Repelling
We were eating lunch at my parent's house on Saturday when my Dad looked at the Youngest Island Boy and said "After lunch let's show everybody what you were doing in the tree last week."
The Youngest got excited and started telling his cousins all about "repelling" out of the tree.
We finished our lunch and went outside to see what he'd been talking about.
My Dad tied him into a makeshift rope harness
And then the Youngest started climbing.
His cousins watched
And when he got to the top of the tree he yelled "I'm comin down!" and pushed himself off the branch.
He swung out and then up against the tree and back out again several times before finally touching the ground.
Obviously the boy did not inherit my fear of heights.
I'm starting to wonder if he and his grandfather should be supervised when they're together.
I've heard tales of picnics on the roof and now I'm seeing tree repelling in a makeshift harness.
I should put the Orthopedic doc on speed dial.
*******This post was approved by the Youngest Island Boy**************************
The Youngest got excited and started telling his cousins all about "repelling" out of the tree.
We finished our lunch and went outside to see what he'd been talking about.
My Dad tied him into a makeshift rope harness
And then the Youngest started climbing.
His cousins watched
And when he got to the top of the tree he yelled "I'm comin down!" and pushed himself off the branch.
He swung out and then up against the tree and back out again several times before finally touching the ground.
Obviously the boy did not inherit my fear of heights.
I'm starting to wonder if he and his grandfather should be supervised when they're together.
I've heard tales of picnics on the roof and now I'm seeing tree repelling in a makeshift harness.
I should put the Orthopedic doc on speed dial.
*******This post was approved by the Youngest Island Boy**************************
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
NOT a Paparazzi
The Youngest Island Boy was spending a few days with his grandparents when I wrote this post about him being a paparazzi.
The next day I met my Mom in Navarre to pick him up and when he got out of the car, instead of hugging me, he folded his arms across his chest and said "I'm mad at you."
"Mad at me? Why?"
"You called me a paparazzi on your blog."
Umm. Hmm. Well. Yes I did call him that but I never thought he'd see my blog take me seriously.
His brother said "You don't even know what a paparazzi is."
And the Youngest went off. "Oh yes I do know what they are! They're people who invade your space and take pictures of you when you don't want them too. They're like stalkers or peeping Toms - and everyone hates them!"
He was really upset and I was having a lot of trouble not laughing because he was so cute and indignant but I managed to pull it together and reassure him that I don't think he's a paparazzi or a horrible person and that I was only joking.
"But what about the people who read your blog? Now they think I'm a horrible person."
I asked him if he wanted me to write a post telling anyone who reads my blog that he is not a paparazzi and he said yes.
So here it is.
I apologize to the Youngest Island Boy for making fun of him. He is not a paparazzi.
He does not stalk people or get into their personal space and he would never take pictures of someone who doesn't want him to.
I really am sorry that I hurt your feelings Son.
And I promise not to make fun of you any more.
We've got a big family - I shouldn't have any trouble finding someone else to pick on.
The next day I met my Mom in Navarre to pick him up and when he got out of the car, instead of hugging me, he folded his arms across his chest and said "I'm mad at you."
"Mad at me? Why?"
"You called me a paparazzi on your blog."
Umm. Hmm. Well. Yes I did call him that but I never thought he'd see my blog take me seriously.
His brother said "You don't even know what a paparazzi is."
And the Youngest went off. "Oh yes I do know what they are! They're people who invade your space and take pictures of you when you don't want them too. They're like stalkers or peeping Toms - and everyone hates them!"
He was really upset and I was having a lot of trouble not laughing because he was so cute and indignant but I managed to pull it together and reassure him that I don't think he's a paparazzi or a horrible person and that I was only joking.
"But what about the people who read your blog? Now they think I'm a horrible person."
I asked him if he wanted me to write a post telling anyone who reads my blog that he is not a paparazzi and he said yes.
So here it is.
I apologize to the Youngest Island Boy for making fun of him. He is not a paparazzi.
He does not stalk people or get into their personal space and he would never take pictures of someone who doesn't want him to.
I really am sorry that I hurt your feelings Son.
And I promise not to make fun of you any more.
We've got a big family - I shouldn't have any trouble finding someone else to pick on.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Painting The House
My sister and I decided back in December to pick a weekend and help my Dad paint their house. He's been pecking away at it for awhile now but scraping and painting a house alone is a daunting task and we knew he would appreciate us coming over to help.
This past weekend was chosen and we all met at my parent's house Saturday morning to get started.
I don't really mind painting but scraping paint sucks. And there was a lot of paint to scrape.
We scraped ALL DAY LONG.
Naturally, the part of the house that needed scraping and painting is up high, which presents a real problem for me.
I'll admit that I may be a little on the neurotic side and all kinds of things bother me or weird me out but I have 2 serious phobias - snakes and heights.
And by serious I mean can't breathe, chest pain, full blown panic attack kind of serious.
I've gotten a little better about snakes but heights? Not so much.
It dawned on me on the way to their house Saturday morning that all of the work to be done had to be done from a ladder.
Fortunately, my Dad is aware of this and knew I wouldn't be the one hanging from the eaves with a scraper.
See the blue ladder?
Where the Island Girl is standing is as high as I go. And even that is pushing it for me.
At one point the Island King and my BIL starting teasing me and wanting to know why I didn't have to climb up high like they did. I rolled my eyes and told them that I'm scared of heights which makes me exempt from extension ladders.
They started saying things like "Well, my knees are bad" and "My shoulder is hurt." I just laughed and told them that only pre-existing conditions exempt you from the tall ladder and that my fear of heights is well documented.
We were glad to see the end of Saturday but knew we still had more scraping to do before we could paint on Sunday. Lovely.
The kids spent the night at my parent's house and on the way home the Island King and I talked about it being Saturday night and us having no kids.
Did we want to go home, shower and then go out for a while?
We considered it for about 30 seconds and then opted for a quick stop at Blockbuster for a movie.
Saturday night, no kids, and we were asleep by 10:00. Scraping paint will do that to you.
Sunday morning came and back to their house we went.
For more scraping.
A little after midday it was finally time to paint.
I thought that hanging from an extension ladder was scary but for painting they brought out the big guns. Braces on the ladders with a board across the two made the perfect high wire for my BIL to paint from.
Every time a gust of wind would hit him he'd turn around and yell "I'm going to need another beer!"
The sun came out and we put everyone to work.
After a weekend of cold, gray skies we were treated to a beautiful sunset.
We didn't finish but we made a major dent and I think one more work day will finish it up.
At least I hope so because my body is unhappy today. My shoulders and hands are a little sore from scraping and painting but my legs and feet are KILLING me.
Being scared of heights means that every second I spent on the ladder, the muscles in my legs and feet were clenched as tight as they'd go. I kept telling myself to relax but it never happened.
So I'm limping around today like an old woman.
I think we can safely rule out a career in house painting for me.
This past weekend was chosen and we all met at my parent's house Saturday morning to get started.
I don't really mind painting but scraping paint sucks. And there was a lot of paint to scrape.
We scraped ALL DAY LONG.
Naturally, the part of the house that needed scraping and painting is up high, which presents a real problem for me.
I'll admit that I may be a little on the neurotic side and all kinds of things bother me or weird me out but I have 2 serious phobias - snakes and heights.
And by serious I mean can't breathe, chest pain, full blown panic attack kind of serious.
I've gotten a little better about snakes but heights? Not so much.
It dawned on me on the way to their house Saturday morning that all of the work to be done had to be done from a ladder.
Fortunately, my Dad is aware of this and knew I wouldn't be the one hanging from the eaves with a scraper.
See the blue ladder?
Where the Island Girl is standing is as high as I go. And even that is pushing it for me.
At one point the Island King and my BIL starting teasing me and wanting to know why I didn't have to climb up high like they did. I rolled my eyes and told them that I'm scared of heights which makes me exempt from extension ladders.
They started saying things like "Well, my knees are bad" and "My shoulder is hurt." I just laughed and told them that only pre-existing conditions exempt you from the tall ladder and that my fear of heights is well documented.
We were glad to see the end of Saturday but knew we still had more scraping to do before we could paint on Sunday. Lovely.
The kids spent the night at my parent's house and on the way home the Island King and I talked about it being Saturday night and us having no kids.
Did we want to go home, shower and then go out for a while?
We considered it for about 30 seconds and then opted for a quick stop at Blockbuster for a movie.
Saturday night, no kids, and we were asleep by 10:00. Scraping paint will do that to you.
Sunday morning came and back to their house we went.
For more scraping.
A little after midday it was finally time to paint.
I thought that hanging from an extension ladder was scary but for painting they brought out the big guns. Braces on the ladders with a board across the two made the perfect high wire for my BIL to paint from.
Every time a gust of wind would hit him he'd turn around and yell "I'm going to need another beer!"
The sun came out and we put everyone to work.
After a weekend of cold, gray skies we were treated to a beautiful sunset.
We didn't finish but we made a major dent and I think one more work day will finish it up.
At least I hope so because my body is unhappy today. My shoulders and hands are a little sore from scraping and painting but my legs and feet are KILLING me.
Being scared of heights means that every second I spent on the ladder, the muscles in my legs and feet were clenched as tight as they'd go. I kept telling myself to relax but it never happened.
So I'm limping around today like an old woman.
I think we can safely rule out a career in house painting for me.
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