Tra-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!
No funny here today. Only smiles.
Today is all about the happy! Bubba comes to visit today! I’m workin early, gonna get out with the fam and Master Boombastic. I’ll be takin in the sunshine. I’ll be groovin to tunes, snappin some door pics, makin five pounds of black pepper chicken, and generally, tra-la-la-la-ing.
I expect to smile and laugh through this day and I wish you all the same!
Seriously, no doors. At least, no full, honest and true doors. Only the illusion of or absence of doors.
I got, ‘From a distance, this looks like it could be a door’ — but nope, just me watchin a birdie take a bath.
Got a picture of some holes in the side of a building — totally not doors.
Encountered a library station, open to all.
Windows, sure, but no doors.
Lots of points of interest, but not a single door.
Is that a gate?
Yeah, but I snapped the snowballs instead.
Are those doors in the distance?
Yes, but I walked to the left.
#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see ACTUAL doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link.
At the ripe ol age of six, Moo explained, “No, Mama, I don’t want Sassy to be my maid, I just want her to do everything for me. Like a sistent.”
One-Liner Wednesday is brought to you by LindaGHill
Cause bitchin on a Tuesday is my new joie de vivre.
When I came home at 7pm, I immediately shouted at Moo, “Why aren’t you working on the Challah?! You’ll be up til midnight baking Challah!” I had to yell, cause 1) Moo was asleep and 2) As we all know, I’d be up right along with her, makin sure the house doesn’t burn down.
I supervised the yeast. Then I just sorta stood around nagging about leveling flour and counting carefully, how mothers do.
Moo is like her brother in myriad wonderful ways. She has an admirable moral compass, she can math in her head, she likes to try new things. Of course, she has less desirable traits like Bubba, too. I struggle to understand how I’ve raised two children who don’t know where anything in the house is.
“I don’t even know where the bread flour is.”
“Still in the bag, next to the rolling pins.”
Can I just say we have a baking cabinet?!? In which she did not even look?!?
Moo made this sorta exasperated face and threw her hands up. I had to point, to the counter, where the flour was in plain sight, next to the rolling pins that have lived there as long as we have.
In case you think Moo is unfamiliar with the look of flour or rolling pins, No. She has been baking breads with me since she was, I don’t know, four? five? Little.
“Where is the yeast?”
Lawd.
Moo doesn’t share the language of common household items, particularly furniture. End table, coffee table, dining table, sofa table — those are tables undefined for Moo. The language of Moos is always entertaining, but at times it’s frustrating as well because I literally never want the dough rising on the coffee table. Never.
Anyway, the Challah business was for extra credit at somethin called East Feast.
Initially, I was asked about quinoa or hummus or Israeli salad and these arguments went on way too long because I was tired and empty and that’s when children get at you.
“Quinoa!”
“Quite costly for 150 kids who prolly won’t like it. Also, doesn’t travel too well once there’s cheese in it.”
“Hummus?”
“Oh my word. Boil and drain and shake and peel and food processor. Ugh!”
“I’ll clean the food processor.”
“But it won’t actually be clean. Do we still have tahini? You know this is why I just buy the Meijer hummus, right? And what will you serve it on?”
“We could make pita!”
outta yer ever-lovin mind
“No. Cucumbers?”
“No, Mama, kids hate cucumbers. I don’t wanna be that girl.”
“You love cucumbers!”
“Israeli salad!”
“For 150?!? And also, IT HAS CUCUMBERS! We have some spelt flour. Bake some bread.”
“What’s the significance of spelt flour?”
“It’s ancient.”
“But is it special?”
“Are quinoa and hummus and Israeli salad special? You know what’s special? Challah.”
Children become exceptional arguers around the age of eight. This one’s had five years of practice, but I’ve had thirty-five years of practice and it was an insanely busy week, so I won.
I don’t always have EIGHT POUNDS OF BREAD FLOUR on hand, so yay, more shopping! You know, cause extra credit.
About an hour after buying the additional flour, I received Moo’s electronic gradebook update and she had 93.15% in social studies, and I do not understand this need to excel further into excellence. I blame her father.
Her father slept on the sofa during the baking, because he had out-excellenced himself since dawn. He said he didn’t want to go to bed, because he didn’t want Moo to burn the house down, but truly, he didn’t want to go to bed without me. He set an alarm for the first batch, but he slept through his alarm, and we turned it off, and then about twenty minutes later he awoke to say, “Smells like bread. Check the bread.”
Moo wanted me to help braid the dough. I don’t know why. I’m a kick-ass hair braider, but when it comes to Challah, my braiding looks like Cthulhu has attacked the kitchen. I refused, because not only have I aced geography but I’ve also aced Challah.
As it turns out, Moo is a fabulous braider.
Oh no, now she’ll be asked to braid future bread too! Hahaha!
We finally packed it up at 2 o’clock in the mornin. She wanted to take two sticks of butter. I wouldn’t let her take but one. I suggested she take a jar of strawberry preserves. She said, “People don’t like jam.”
Who the fuck doesn’t like jam?
Moo herself eats jam like it’s life.
She took nine loaves of Challah, the one stick of butter, and the jar of preserves and came home with nothin.
I kept one loaf, and secretly stashed another one in the oven.
I tell you what, I ate a few slices, warmed, slathered in butter and blackberry preserves, and I feel like it was worth it.
That’s my extra credit.
What is the most famous landmark or building you have ever seen?
I don’t know which things are most famous. I easily think of those I haven’t seen. Like Cee, I’ve seen Seattle’s Space Needle, but is Montreal Tower more famous? Are either of those more or less famous than Empire State Building? How about Epcot Center? That’s certainly famous, right? I’ve seen a lot of stuff.
Do you like long vacation or lots of mini-vacations?
I prefer mini-vacations. Do a lil, go home. I get vacation weary. I love to travel, but I love to come home.
What is your favorite natural or state park?
Mackinac Island, by far. Did you know it’s cool there, even in August?
What is your fantasy vacation?
Ooh, Ireland, absolutely. The rolling green hills, the seascapes, crowded cities built with stone. *sigh* Also, I blame all those Iris Murdoch books — the wind’s always blowing, it’s always cold, everyone wears sweaters, it rains a lot. Pretty romantic for Joeys.
Optional Bonus question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
I am most grateful for the restorative weekend I am still enjoying.
I did some things. Tiny grocery trip. Picked up a coffee. Batter fried some walleye. Did one load of laundry. Brewed a pot of coffee. Made some egg salad. But mostly, I lie on The Mister or sit here on my sofa and not do things. It’s so good.
I’ve thought about doing things. Even I’ve talked about doing them. I could bake some oatmeal raisin cookies, take a doorscursion, trim the shrubs… I may still do things, but I’ve been enjoying other things. Watching my family nap. Watching streaming shows. Watching the rain or the cottonwood blow by. I’ll share a photo, but y’all can’t see the cottonwood. Invisible summer snow to you.
This book was written to be read.
These cats and kids won’t pet themselves.
catticus on sassy, sassy on me
catticus on moo, moo on me
Someone HAS to eat the ice cream.
the blanket to the right of ice cream is actually moo, swaddled and sleeping on the floor
I am grateful for all the rest. My whole family is.
What I’m looking forward to in the week coming up is an absence of stuff. I pray it’s as peaceful as it sounds. Also, at work, flex-time for summer begins.
Cee’s Share Your World is a weekly feature and all are invited to join in and play along.
What’s going on in your world?
You know how sometimes you dunno what causes a thing until it happens a second time? Yeah?
Well, one night last week Sadie was actin weird. She kept me up half the night, traipsing around with her clickety-clack toenails and her jingle-jangle tags, and the pant-pant-whine of her stupid furry face.
It’s always my side of the bed — kids, dogs — always the mama, am I right?
When I got up in the morning, I don’t know when, but early, I was all, “I was up til three cause the stupid dog was acting fucking weird!” and Sassy said, “Same.”
So last night, The Mister and Sadie performed their nighttime ritual — He took her out and she did her tricks and she got her cookie and again she did not lay down and sleep her face. She hung around with the panting and the whine and bout drove me outta my mind. AGAIN.
I tried all the same stuff one does to appease those who do not speak. I checked her water. I loved her up. I snuggled her. I rubbed her tummy. I scratched her snout. I made her a special pallet with a pillow and some dirty clothes. She would not lie down and shut up and go to sleep.
Too close to infant care for me. This is why I don’t have more babies and why I don’t adopt puppies and OMFG DOG, WHAT DO YOU WANT!?
I am not the dog whisperer.
Finally, at 3:50 A-fucking-M, I took her outside. She was eager to go. I stood there, vulnerable in the darkness — is my yard four times bigger in the dark, or nah? — while that bitch sniffed every single freakin blade of grass and made absolutely nothin. Then, she plopped down in the center of the patio and with her eyes, she said to me, “You may go now.” It turns out THAT is what she wanted.
Oh Hell No! It’d been a long time since I was so angry.
You know those times when you take a deep breath and count to ten? Yeah, I should’ve done that. But no, I went in and yelled at MY husband about MY dog and as is typical, he yelled louder and went back to sleep.
The nerve of these people who can always, always sleep!
I went back outside in the darkness and practically herded my dog indoors. I gave her half a cookie, pointed to the living room, and told her “Go Lie Down!” She trotted off to our bedroom instead.
When I arrived, I SAW. The window was open. Sadie was poised nose to air, obviously engaged in some sorta olfactory delight. She wanted to be where the smells are. Unfortunately, I wanted her not to die a tragic traffic death. Impasse. Total impasse.
I closed the window and snapped my fingers, “Out! Out! Out!” With a huff, I shut the door almost closed.
She went nigh nigh. In the living room. Like a good bitch should.
Stupid smells. Mama needs her sleep.
Stream of Consciousness Saturday — SoCS ‘smell’ is brought to you by LindaGHill
When my friend Tori moved to Indianapolis, she came from San Francisco. I know y’all think San Francisco must be HUGE compared to Indianapolis, but um, no. In terms of largest US cities, San Francisco is ranked 13 and Indy is ranked 14.
Tori did not know this, because Indiana is always depicted like this:
Yes, we have plenty of that — obviously — those are my photos.
BUT!
“There’s more than corn in Indiana,” as they sing. This is also my photo:
At the Indianapolis International Airport, Tori shouted, “Oh my God, it’s a thriving metropolis!” She had expected it to be in the middle of a cornfield, of course.
Some of those green patches are crops, surely, but mostly, no.
Tori thought we were all farmers and we all churned our own butter. We laughed about this a lot. Alawt-alawt.
In the club, drinkin martinis til 2am, “Oh, no, we can’t go home with you. Gotta be home to milk the cows!”
Waitin in line, number 18 when the license branch opens, “You’d think these people would have more butter to churn.”
Oh how we laughed!
Anyway —
Indianapolis, Indiana is likely not what you think it is. I’m just sayin.
But there are times… Times when you think your Midwestern breeding really might be a culture other people do not understand.
…
On Monday, Ms Holingue wrote a post which included a section on dairy products. I commented, “I note that as a person who cooks, the cream issues are very hard to understand until you actually MAKE some of them, then it all gets clearer. Mostly. Don’t get me started on the bad math of half & half.”
Then she responded, “Okay, now I want to learn how to make cream. Really? You make yours?”
I bout died.
One, she’s such a foodie.
Two, she grew up in rural FRANCE.
Seigneur! Mon Dieu!
I had to pretend I didn’t read that.
…
Not twenty minutes later, we saw bits of some show we don’t watch — A woman had come to sell a glass butter churn and the clerk seemed to not believe she could make butter from cream.
And I bout died again.
I was in a tizzy. I began shouting.
“OH MY FUCKING GOD! IS THIS A THING? DO PEOPLE REALLY NOT KNOW HOW BUTTER IS MADE?!? IS THIS THE REAL LIFE? Is this because we live in Indiana? Is this because we all go out to Connor Prairie and churn butter in grade school? Tori would be crackin up so hard right now! Do people know milk comes from cows? People know that, right?”
On the show, a guy brought in four pints of cream and they put it in to churn, and they did indeed make butter.
The woman said somethin about fresh butter on every table in the heartland. The Mister and I nodded.
The clerk was stunned.
I bout died.
Dude. You wouldn’t believe all the shit they can make with a cow these days.
My brain couldn’t reconcile this.
I asked my kids, “Do you know where cream comes from?”
They did.
I quick messaged some dwellers of other urban areas.
They knew.
My friend Lola said, “The unemployed make cream and prisoners make butter. It’s a work release program, and they work their way up to margarine. Once you get on the margarine making line, it’s time to countdown to release and a full pardon.”
I bout died of LOLZ.
There’s supposed to be this sorta education in childhood. I recall many episodes with my own kids.
“No, Baby, hot dogs do not grow in the marsh.”
Bubba took a moment of silence when he found out eggs were unhatched chickens. Sissy never liked honey and once she found out where it came from, she judged us all for eating it. Sassy gave up pancakes for months because maple syrup oozes from trees. The amazed look on Moo’s face the first time she whipped cream… We name the birds we eat, ffs.
It’s not nice to poke fun at people because you know something they don’t. I get that. I do.
Two instances in one evening, though? The heartland questions your upbringing.
I learn things ALL the time, and before I learned them, I didn’t know. Remember having kittens?!?
People know all kindsa things I don’t know, and they’re welcome to laugh, so long as I learn.
I felt odd pedantically writing to Ms Holingue, “There’s no making to it; When the milk comes out of the cow, the cream rises to the top.”
You cannot know how relieved I was when she wrote back, “I realize that my comment implied that I didn’t know where cream came from. Which for someone born in Normandy would be a paradox! But few people do their own from home. Since you write in the preterit, I assume you don’t anymore?”
Oh Thank Elsie! She knew! She knew!
You can watch videos on how to collect your own cream and make your own cheese, sour cream, creme fraiche, etc, but I’m not sharing any of that, because I don’t wanna be responsible for your chic urbanite food poisoning, okay?
HOWEVER, if you don’t know any stuff about dairy stuff, here’s an old video none of us are going to watch.
Happy Friday Everyone!
Gentle Reader,
Feel free to skip the words.
Regular Reader,
Lean in.
I’ve been gettin out quite a bit lately. Wearin shoes and bras all the goddamn time.
I’ve been runnin around like a headless chicken. Lakka-lakka-lakka, Drew would say.
Oh, I’ve seen some doors.
If I could just have ten hours of straight sleep, and then a full twenty-four hours of wakeful productivity…
How do we get more hours in the day? Is someone workin on this?
I will whore myself out for more time. I got some green pennies, some dustbunnies, and a leaky tangerine. Get at me.
Yeah, I got some great doors, but no time to research and write the posts.
So glad it’s Doors Day and Kitten Day and make yourself a fuckin sammich for dinner day. Be lucky I cut up that cantaloupe and washed the berries. I am so done.
Parents and teachers nod along. Maybe other people, too. I don’t know your life.
Oh, it’s a long weekend, you say?
RIGHT ON.
For now, you get sheds. You get sheds and you’ll like it.
This first shed is from my friend Jax. It’s got a nice vibe. I like whatever’s goin on there in the lower left corner.
Oh there’s a shed in there. Peek-a-shed.
And here’s my shed, which is more me showin off my climbing rose. Several of you know I have been working hard to get it to climb properly since we moved here. I regret to inform you that this is much prettier in person.
And now, this.
I oohed and aahed, cause it’s like a lil mini-barn. Lil hayloft. I don’t know what I’d put in there, maybe my angst, maybe rum, I dunno, but I love it.
#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link.
In my sleep, I sat up, grabbed The Mister’s morning glory and exclaimed, “OH MY GOD!” then lay back down.
I have no memory of it, but it does sound like me.
One-Liner Wednesday is brought to you by LindaGHill
What one thing have you not done that you really want to do?
This question may be too open for me. Do we mean goals and dreams? Finish writing a book? Fill most of my yard with flowers and shrubs? Get all of my kids to adulthood? Train Sadie to open Amazon boxes?
I’d like to see the Northern Lights that always eluded me. Visit more places. Take a really long train trip. Take a really long walk.
How often do you get a haircut?
Rarely. Sometimes years pass before I get a haircut. I’m quite capable of trimming my own ends. I trust me.
In regards to puzzle what’s your choice: jigsaw, crossword, word search or numeric puzzles?
I love crosswords.
How many cities have you lived? You can share the number of physical residences and/or the number of cities.
Eight. I’ve lived in seven Indiana cities and one in Georgia.
Optional Bonus question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
It was a busy, busy week! Again! So much, most of it’s a big blur.
I enjoyed Moo’s concert. I think we’d hit the perfect level of sleep-dep, where we were slap happy and snarky, and oh we did have fun!
I had a lot of close encounters with critters. That’s always nice, isn’t it? A baby bunny who let me drive by, a hawk in my tree, a sparrow talkin to me…
This week coming up, I’m lookin forward to the girls’ orchestra performances, planting sunflowers, the end of the school year, the night I cook black pepper chicken, and of course, the long weekend!
Cee’s Share Your World is a weekly feature and all are invited to join in and play along.
What’s going on in your world?
joeyfullystated 
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