Sunday, January 17, 2010

`a la carte

Small town living.
One thing I've relished about our small town telephone company is not having to dial our local area code. I'll admit, I felt a small thrill every time I did it, only having to dial 7 numbers instead of 10. But alas, the good old days are over. They up and got modern on us. Bummer.

Wake up call.

Ah, Sunday morning. Sleeping in. Leisurely cups of coffee over the Sunday paper. Eggs and bacon. My butt faithfully parked on this bar stool....
Pancakes, pajamas, cartoons. Urgent knocks on the back door by the ex-convict asking to borrow money for the second day in a row. I just need a little gas money. Basically, he is like a stray cat that Mark fed. We could take him to the pound I suppose, but no one is going to adopt him at this age.

Cat Scratch Fever.
Like not the Sweaty Teddy kind either. Lily came home from school Thursday with 2 big ol' blisters on her ear. They were fluid filled and sore. Her ear was swollen and red. I'm not usually an alarmist about illness or injuries because that's Mark's job. I will however usually defer to a second opinion from my Mom. So next day Mark took Lily to the local urgent care jiffy doctor, who prescribed antibiotics and steroid cream and gave no diagnosis.
Since the moment Lily came home with her pustules, Mark was insistent that it was cat-related. I didn't doubt the possibility, but figured, even if it was, (a.) it wasn't life threatening and (2.)abstinence from cats was out of the question sooooo no use getting too bent out of shape about it.
We don't have an official diagnosis, but based on my extensive google research I feel confident that it is possible that it may or may not be cat scratch fever. And not that I wish the fever on anyone, let alone my children, but how cool is it that it's a real thing? I'm kidding! a little.
And she's fine, by the way. The cream literally had it gone the next day. (Antibiotics likely overkill. It kills us to give them to her on the chance they aren't necessary, but...that was the call we went with.)

Bee poop.

Mark checked in on his wee workers Saturday since the temperatures were up in the 40's. Lookin' pretty good.

It is during these brief warmups that the bees are able to finally, finally take a potty break. See all the spots in the snow?
When you gotta go, you gotta go.
Shirts and Skins.
Finally! They've only been practicing for An Hundred years. We finally got to see them play a game!
And they won! And they lost! Because they were playing themselves. So, almost a game! And I keep wanting to say that Aggie got a goal. I know, I know! It's a basket. Aggie made a basket.

And of course her Dad had to ask her when she came home if she got a trophy. It's a tradition with those two that no matter the activity, no matter what point in the season, when Aggie gets home Mark asks her if she got a trophy and she becomes very (pretend usually) irritated and says No. Then Mark says she is talking like a cat and he meows at her, then Aggie becomes irritated some more and scrunches up her face and pretends she's clamping on Mark's forearm with her sharp talons and quietly growls Daaaaaaaaad stooooooooop dramatically through gritted teeth. And then they both go about their business like none of it ever happened. Kind of like in a musical, when they're dancing around like maniacs and singing, and then suddenly the song is over and everything goes back to normal.

Family Date.

Our family went on a date with our good friends 'n neighbor's family. We all rode together in the same vehicle. Went to the mall, went out to supper, and then checked out the super, cool new grocery store with the rare meats & funky fruits and vegetables. They even have a small section where hydroponic lettuce is growing for your hydroponic lettuce needs. They had truffles ($139.99/lb) and buddha's hand fruit. We stolled and strolled and only scraped the surface of what they've got.

We bought ice cream sandwiches and popcicles (Hey, it was in the balmy 30's!) and ate them in the car on the way home.

Final Thoughts.

If you're not making these, you should be. I've made them 3 or 4 times just since Christmas (that is a relative $#!tload of cooking for me these days) and they're just so dumb-tasty. Like pretzels and Nutello. Or honey on vanilla ice cream. Or homemade Chex Mix. Or toast. Or pepperoni rolls.

So we had those peppers, stuffed mushrooms, potato pancakes, and elk cheeseburgers for supper with the brother-in-law, sister-in-law, and nieces. All our girls together playing, sewing outfits for the cats & rockin' out to the black eyed peas, all the guys hypnotized by a video game, and us moms in relative peace in the kitchen.

One of those weekends the floors didn't get swept enough but we ate well and had fun times.

Guess that will do for now. Toodles!


A Lawyer Mom's Musings said...

Yo, Sara! Can we trade bodies for, oh, say, a weekend? Or just an hour? I'd settle for that.

Hope your little one gets better. Try fish oil capsules. It's like a miracle worker at my house -- even when no one's sick.

And go BEES! I keep reading about collapsing colony disorder -- glad to see yours are robust and well.

honeypiehorse said...

You've been busy! Elk cheeseburgers, yum!

Annette said...

I never ever thought about bees pooping before. Why? I don't know.

We went to the very same monster grocery store yesterday on our way home from the RV show. Lunch by the pound in the cafe. Way cool. And I marveled over the hydroponic lettuce, too.

Good thing you had Lily's ear checked immediately. I mean, what if it fell off??? ;-) How would she hold up her sunglasses????

honeypiehorse said...

PS Dude, what are you doing in that picture? And I thought bees pooped honey.

Sara said...

Lawyer Mom, I'm down with the fish oil, just inconsistent. Like, faithfully give it to the dogs & forget to give it to the kids.
We can trade bodies on one condition: do something with that hair 'o mine!

Annette, we did warn her about the sunglasses problem! lol!

honeypie, it was some sort of sassy exchange between Mark and I. Basically an uncommitted flip of the bird, to which he responded 'I'm going to take a picture of that and show it to your mother.' Tattletale. Plus my general posture on the stool is that of Golem. Huddling over my precious newspaper and coffee.

Bees *puke* honey ;-)

Becky said...

I tee-heed when I saw your picture, "OMG, she's shooting THE BIRD!" I'm twelve years old.

I had no idea about bee poop. I guess that book is right, everybody DOES poop.

Anonymous said...


Camp Papa said...

走吧 beat me to it. That's exactly what I was going to say.

Amy said...

Okay, *I'll* take the hair. Having suffered an entire lifetime with limp, straight hair that nonetheless manages to stick out in bizarre directions every morning (maybe cos of the sweaty head plus hair product x3 plus fitful sleeping with pillow over head?), my ETERNAL DREAM is curly tresses that could be sexily pinned to the top of my head, or worn in a sultry out-of-control morning tangle while I shoot my hubs the bird.

Yes, I loved the post, I did!