home and not home

Pook flew to Utah on Sunday, to attend an Elderhostel with my parents. This morning they participated in a ropes course and tomorrow morning they get a hot air balloon ride. Some activities will be for grandchildren only, some for the grandparents, and many will bring them together. I know Pook will love a zip line, but my mom? We'll see. Park City, Utah, is the site of the 2002 Winter Olympics. So they'll visit many of the Olympic venues and, I think, get a chance to bobsled. Except there wouldn't be any ice so I think this is referred to as an "alpine slide" instead. No less exciting.

Bug, while his brother and feuding partner is away, is attending a morning tennis camp.  After a week he will have about as much experience with tennis as I have. Today he learned a forehand swing, played a game called "Jail" and made friends with a boy "who is 13... but nice!" He has already been bored, but is outside (on his brother's bike) at the moment, dealing well with his boredom for now.

I am wondering if I should make Pook's bed and tidy his room. I've already picked up the dirty laundry and washed it, but I wouldn't want the room to look totally un-lived-in or I'd start to miss him too much.  I'll leave the bed unmade.

I am not out and about nor learning anything new. I'm folding the fifth load of laundry washed today. I'm reading aloud (the second to last chapter of Harry Potter, Chamber of Secrets) to Bug. I'm listening to the ice cream truck (which doesn't seem to have gotten the memo that the pool is closed Mondays to save the impoverished county money.) I'm smelling banana bread that I helped Bug bake earlier.  I'm still relaxed from the yoga class I attended this morning.  All is calm and good.

easy bake oven

Vidalia season. Time to pull out the worn out recipe for Vidalia onion pie. That would be recipes in the plural. At least one for quiche. A few called pie. Another, with a cracker base. Another, all scribbled upon.  Honestly, it doesn't matter which one I used last time. I always do the same thing. I mess with them.

No, let me rephrase that. First I mess with them, then I complain that they never turn out.  This year will be different.  The kids hear me mention "Vidalia pie" and get excited. "Are you making a quiche?" "Oh, I love Vidalia pies!"  See what I have to work with here? The pressure is tough.

I decide to start over, and I go online. Food Network has a five star recipe. I'll go back to basics and ignore all the scribbles for changes I've previously made.

Excellent.

Two pounds of onions. How much does an onion weigh? I bought five. That'll do.

"Do not brown the onions."  Huh? Are they completely wacko? Of course I'm browning the onions. I'll put them in the crock pot and I'll give them all day. What a great smell!

Oh, one commenter skipped the crust. That would solve so many of my problems. I hate making pie crust.

Really? Only three eggs? But then it becomes a side dish, and I don't have time to plan something else. I'll double it.

Hm. A cup of sour cream. I have most of a cup. But certainly not two. I'll add some milk.

Well, if it called for three tablespoons of flour, and I'm doubling it, that's six. But I used milk instead of the extra sour cream, so maybe just a little bit more.

I don't have much Parmesan. Maybe Swiss. Oooh, I have that wonderful Jarlsberg; that will be fabulous.

Preheated to 450... no, still not hot. Still not hot? What?! Why is that $%#& oven still not hot?  Well, I've done this before. I'll turn on the broiler until it gets hot and then the residual heat will be fine.

Twenty minutes. Got that. Now I can lower the temp (it will actually do this by itself since it isn't heating today anyway) and cook it another twenty minutes "or until done in the center." Ha! I know to set aside an hour for a quiche. I'm prepared for this one.

Or so I thought I was. I let the dish rest for five minutes, to the chorus of "I'm hungry"s, and then served up... raw egg on the bottom.   I turn the broiler on to heat the oven again, and set the timer for yet another twenty minutes.

It is now after 7pm. We make ham sandwiches for dinner. Everyone is crabby.

As we clear the table and decide to go out for ice cream, I check on the pie again. It looks fabulous. It has risen two inches and browned to a golden cheesy deliciousness.

Just like that, I've baked a wonderful Vidalia onion pie.

We'll eat it tomorrow.  I might need to make a few notes on the recipe however.

cheese, wishes, messes and fairies-- oh my!

I'm finally getting around to reading some of the journals, etc. that came home at the end of the school year.

Bug always has some stories worth a chuckle.

George and the magic Mozzerella
1. George finds some mozzerella in his house
2. George wishes he had a Pet dinosaur. Suddenly he is riding a triceritops.
3. Hes still holding the cheese
4. It charges his mom and dad, he said Woah! Stop! It does
5. He wishes he had a Pet griffin, cyclops, and centar he gets them
6. he goes to bed with the cheese on his bed-side table
7. Years pass and George takes good care of the cheese

Also by Bug:

If I had three wishes one would be that I could fly. I would be able to get places in a hurry. My second wish would be that I could turn invisible. It would be useful to be able to sneak around. My last wish would be to have the ability to walk into a book and trade Places with a character. That would be really fun.

 I was entertained by Pook in this one. He knows himself well.

Messyish Me

When Mrs. Lavender walks into my bedroom she thinks that "this room is fairly cleanish." She thinks that it is cleanish because there is not things all over the floor. The beds are sort of made. I share the room with my little brother. It is clean because the toys are in the Toy Room. The closet is not very neat though. I am not as neat as that room is.

Pook has doodles in his notebooks which crack me up. He has another which involves a boxing glove triggered by an closed circuit. At least they were in the science notebook! (I have approximated his drawing, not copied it.)

sofa surfing for the day

9:00 am - Phone my mother to see if she'll go to the farmer's market for me. Decide to let CD take Bug there for the day on his way to work.

9:30 am - Take pillow from bed to downstairs sofa. Move Pook to the right side so I can have the left.

10:00 am - Turn on last night's Braves game.

10:30 am - Swap sides of the sofa with Pook to relieve the cricks in my neck and hip.

11:00 am - Laugh when Pook tries to crawl to the kitchen to get us toast. Decide that laughing is not a good idea. Decide that having CD leave us is not a good idea.

11:30 am - Eat slice of toast with a light smear of apricot jam and sip some weak Gatorade.

12:00 pm- 2:30 pm - Doze.

3:00 pm - Play Kings in the Corners with Pook.

3:30 pm - Rest from the exertion.

Need I say that last night was more eventful?

log ride

I have found my desk.  And emptied my email inbox.  And the kids won't be home from school for an hour still. (I just want to pause now while you gasp with amazement. Thank you.) (And don't look in the laundry room. That doesn't count because it wasn't on my desk.)

I've started picturing April as the long climb up a roller coaster. Every time you blink someone adds something to your May calendar. You see it filling fuller and fuller and see the multiple conflicts which you don't have time to adjust. And then comes May. You might as well enjoy the ride because there is no stopping it.  Until June. And June feels like the water at the bottom of the log ride, stopping the action quickly. If you can make it to June you're home safely. If.

Piano recitals went beautifully. In-laws had a good visit. Baseball is over for both kids. We didn't win anything at the baseball family festival.  Pook turned eleven and the sleep-over boys slept a bit. Pook has turned in three of four end-of-year projects and if he doesn't volunteer to present the fourth today I will have his head. Mother's Day got some notice.

My own mother's birthday celebration will happen Saturday. Sunday afternoon we have an end-of-baseball swim party. Monday is field day for the second grade. (I'm helping.) Tuesday is my last day of work for the year and field day for the fifth grade. Wednesday is the second grade end-of-year party. (I'm helping.) Thursday is awards day for the fifth grade and their party. (I'm helping.) But Thursday is also the last day of school.  So Friday? Friday we're sleeping.