Home Again For a Day

The trip to Michigan went pretty well though getting there seemed like it was going to be problematical.

I left two days before the Engineer so that I could spend some time with my Dad's younger sister and her family. They have dogs and he's never learned to cope with canines, so it's best to keep them separated for the most part.

The plane boarded as scheduled, then we sat there at the gate. And sat there. And sat there. After about a half hour, the pilot came on the speaker system and told us we were delayed due to "The Annunciation."

This, as you might imagine, piqued my curiosity.

So we sat at the gate for another half hour and I kept looking for a heavenly light or, at the very least, a dove. Didn't see anything, didn't hear any hallelujah choruses.

There was another announcement about "drain mast heat" and a possible bad circuit.

Half an hour later, the pilot told us it looked like a wiring problem, they were going to have to turn off the plane, and that we should disembark.

Dang!

We all got off the plane and milled around at the gate. Those folks with connections in Detroit were more than a little perturbed. I called my Aunt and told her not to hold dinner for me.

The airline must have figured we needed to be placated, so they announced that there would be food vouchers given away several gates down the terminal, so we all hustled down there and stood in line to scan our boarding passes on the one working scanner. Upon reaching the head of the line, I was rewarded with a computer printed coupon for $7 at the airport restaurant of my choice, so I walked into the only one between me and the gate and put in an order, only to hear my flight called for reboarding.

Murphy rules.

We reboarded in double time, the plane taxied out and the pilot announced we were first in line to take off.

When we got to the end of the runway, the wind changed. The plane crunched to a ponderous halt and the pilot announced that we would have to turn around and taxi to the far side of the airport for a different runway. Perhaps events like this are the real reason they don't let passengers carry flammable materials or pointy objects on the plane...

We lucked out, though, someone started laughing his butt off and the rest of the cabin joined in. That must have been what was needed to lift our jinx, because we taxied to the far runway, then soared into the air for a smooth flight to Detroit.

Naturally, the Engineer's flight on Friday left as scheduled and arrived 15 minutes early.

Dang Big Cucumber

In fishing when you talk about the one that got away, nobody ever believes you. They have faith that you are exagerating.





In curcubits, when one gets away from you, you have proof of the size.





The question is, "What the heck am I going to do with it?"

August Is Going To Be Erratic

This is my month for traveling. I'm leaving tomorrow for Michigan to visit relatives and in-laws. Both the Engineer and I grew up in Michigan; we lived across the street from each other in high school. Whenever my Mom baked a pie, he and the Twin would show up on the front porch with big grins of anticipation. In fact, I dated the Twin in high school and the Engineer in college. Before the Engineer and I got married, his Mother asked me if I was sure I was getting the right one... (I've never questioned which one, but sometimes I question my sanity for getting married at all.)

After getting back from Michigan, we have a one day turn around, then leave for Idaho and that famous 100-year-old trapper's cabin. While the cabin does have running water (pumped straight out of the creek beside it - we don't drink it) and electricity, there is no phone service, either land line or cell, so no computer connectivity. I have to go to a full day seminar in Logan, Utah the day after we get back, the next day a friend of mine from North Carolina is coming to stay for a week. She's a good enough friend that even the Engineer hasn't had fits about her coming with the house still unfinished. She will be sleeping in the room that currently houses my computer, so there will be no late night blogging the week she's here.

Anyhoo, those are my pre-excuses for about three weeks of probable silence. I did buy a pretty, pale green notebook with white flower silhouettes on the cover to try to inspire myself to do a little pen and paper blogging for transcription upon my return. We'll have to see how that works out.

As an aside, Sachi isn't the only one who's had a rough time of it lately. Something got hold of Kitsu yesterday and took a patch out of her whisker pad. I suspect some small creature she tried to catch objected. Hope it got away.

The Poo-poo Pants of Trauma

The cats get locked in the house every evening, hopefully by dusk. I don't want them running around outside in the night, it's too dangerous -- not just cars and perverse humans, but we have coyotes in the area.

Sachi is more of a home kitty than Kitsu, she's usually in the house already when Kitsu finally decides it's time to come in.

Tonight though, Kitsu came in and no Sachi.

I went outside and called. I came inside and called. I rattled the crunchie bag and poured food into the dish. I looked in the tool shed and the spare room and the cupboards. No Sachi.

I hate it when I don't know where the cats are.

I was owned by Esmerelda for 20 years and Handsome for 10, they both died after I moved to Utah. I've adopted and lost two more cats since, Pandora and Brianna. I don't think I could stand to lose another. I love my cats, they're my kids.

It's 1:00 in the morning and Sachi just came in. She came wailing up the stairs from the cat door. As soon as I got near her, I could tell by the smell that she had poo-poo pants. Which means something bad and scary happened to her. I washed her back half and checked her out thoroughly. Found no physical damage. Then I gave her cat cookies to apologize for the bath and let her know I still love her. She's sulking in the cat tube now.

I wish I had magic powers to keep my cats healthy, happy and safe for long lives like Esmerelda had. I don't want them to ever to experience the poo-poo pants of trauma.

Tree Trunks

Chapter 2 -- The Pie Part

I'm a pretty darn good cook. I'm a little scattered, though.

I decided Tuesday that Wednesday's dinner would be sausages with pinto beans, left-over coleslaw with julienned Armenian cucumber added and spoon bread with fresh cut off the cob corn in it. Then I found out I didn't have any pinto beans.

I don't do canned beans. I buy dry beans and cook them for hours because they taste better and I know what's in them.

So no sausages and beans for Wednesday dinner.

But I had some left-over sockeye salmon in the freezer. Ooh, quiche! Salmon, cheese and onion quiche, crusty Le Brea French bread (if your local grocery store carries Le Brea, you owe it to yourself to try it, it's the best!) and oh, I don't know, some kind of vegetable. And since I needed to make a pie to take to Idaho in a couple of weeks, I'd stop by the produce stand and buy some berries, make enough pie crust for quiche and pie, then freeze the resulting pie. Am I brilliant, or what?

Then Wednesday morning I got all wound up in The Great Potty Hunt (see yesterday's blog) and having lunch with my pregnant friend. I also took my Wacom Intuos digitizing tablet along because her employer's letting folks ask for the tools they'll need for the coming year and she has to do lots of computer drawing in her job -- she makes newsletters among many other duties. The Wacom was the hit of the office. Everybody had to come in to her cubicle and try it out -- even the big boss, so I think she has a lock on getting one.

Running late, I rushed about my errands and swung by the grocery store for a bag of pinto beans (I had this faint nagging feeling I was forgetting something, but it wouldn't come into focus) and the produce stand for berries. They had beautiful, big blueberries Wednesday.

I got home about 5:30, put the beans on to soak for the next day, picked over and washed the berries (made a few of them disappear in the process -- yum!), then got out the stuff to make crust with as the Engineer was pulling into the car port. I put the salmon in the microwave to thaw and started sautéing the onions, then opened the fridge for the eggs...

Oh, crud! I only had two eggs. That's what that nagging feeling was at the grocery store.

This was not going to work. When I make a quiche, I make a large and robust quiche that takes over an hour to bake. The salmon had already been broken into small pieces and there wasn't enough for a whole meal in any case.

"I'm going to the grocery store for a dozen eggs," I announced. "You're not going to have quiche for dinner, you're going to have a frittata." Out the door and back to the store I went.

The frittata was very good. It's just like a quiche except no crust and it cooks one heck of a lot faster. We had French bread, so who needs crust.

I did bake the blueberry pie after dinner. Kind of a shame to have to freeze it instead of eating it.

Potties and Pies

Hmm... I seem to be stuck on a poo theme.

I have a friend who's pregnant and due the end of September. She's the one who thought I got my "hoo-hoo" pierced when I went to Koi Piercing Salon. I don't work with her or know her family or other friends, so no shower invites, but that's okay, I'm not real big on giggling and sticking bows on people's heads. I wanted to get her a baby present anyway, so I did.

Perhaps I shouldn't admit it, but when it comes to baby gifts and wedding gifts, I have preferred presents. For weddings, I like to give high quality knives: 1. You can always use a good knife in the kitchen and 2. It's something a man can appreciate too. I always include a penny and a little note to keep it with the knives so they won't cut the person who uses them. (You have your superstitions, I have mine.)

For babies, I give potty chairs.

I know it's going to be a good long time before the unborn needs a potty chair, that's why I give them. Everybody gives the Mom stuff for a newborn. Cute little sleepers, little pieces of pastel flannel cloth I don't know the use of (I've never been brave enough to have a baby myself), baby bath tubs, rattles, bonnets, wee booties. All stuff to use in the first few months of Baby's life. Then Mom and Dad are on their own. Well, down the road, they're sure as heck going to need a potty, so that's what I give 'em.

And, oh, the choices you have these days. It took me a while to decide, there was one with Elmo on it called 1-2-3 Learn With Me Potty Chair, but I couldn't see it as anything but Tinkle Me Elmo.

The one I really wanted, saw it on Amazon.com, was the Peter Potty Toddler Urinal. What a hoot! Nobody in town seems to carry it, though, so I ended up with the Smart Rewards Potty that says hello when baby sits down, congratulates him when he "Makes a deposit," and has real flushing noise and dispenses star stickers. Wowzer!

So I bought it and wrapped it all up in paper with cute little animals on it and a blue bow (It's a Boy!), and went to lunch with my friend. You can tell she's gunna be a Mommy (besides, of course, the bushel basket she's carrying around in front of her), because she went all gah-gah over that silly little toilet.

Chapter 2 -- Pies

I think I'll post that tomorrow. Getting the pies too close to the poo just isn't too appetizing.