Monthly Archives: July 2012

~ Heart of Rock ~

We’re home now, but while we were at the beach, Critter surprised me with a random act of kindness.  I was rushing around, doing whatever it is I do when I’m rushing around, and he came behind me with a “Mom!  Mom!  Mom mom mom mom mom!”

I answered with an exasperated, “WHAT?!”

And he braved my snarkiness with a held out hand and a grin.

“I found this rock.  It looks like a heart, so I brought it to you.”

Oh.

Sniffle.

He brought it to me because it is the most natural thing in the world that when he finds a heart-shaped rock, he thinks of his mom.

Who will be my supplier of heart-shaped rocks when he grows up and wants to give them to his girlfriend, or wife, or daughter?

Sniffle.

In case you’re wondering, that rock is now safely tucked away.  It’s worth more than any store-bought jewel to me.

Kinda like he is.

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~ The Mother Of Invention ~

Hello my friends!  I’m so sorry I’ve been gone a while.  I’ve been on vacation, had problems like power outages, and came home to a house in 100 degree heat without a working air conditioner.   Inexplicably, at no time during all of that did I feel like sitting down to write.

But all is fixed now, and I’m finding the humor in the last couple of days.

Case N Point:

We had cleaned out the freezer before we left for the second leg of our beach stay last week.  In the process of leaving, we remembered to turn the ice maker back on, but we, er, forgot to put the bucket back under it.

ahem.

So when we got home, and I opened the freezer door, I got this:

What is that, you say?  Why it’s ice cubes about knee-high in the bottom of the freezer, in the freezer door, and all over my kitchen floor, thank you very much.

And yes, it’s obvious My Captain must have married me for my looks, ’cause it clearly wasn’t for my brains.

Hey, for giggles, let’s get a close-up of that thar catastrophe!

You Betcha!  I’m happy to show my latest screw up!

Well, here is where, AGAIN, My Captain uses his Adapt, Improvise, and Overcome talents.  Visualize us late at night, having just driven home from the beach, it’s 100 degrees outside, it’s 105 degrees in the house, and there is no working Air Conditioning.   We are a little (and by little, I mean HUGELY) crabby, and want to just fall into bed.  But who can sleep in that kind of heat and humidity?

So My Captain gathers up all the wasted ice cubes, puts them in an under the bed storage box we happened to have laying around (doesn’t everyone?), and A LA Wyle E. Coyote, jerry-rigged the following home-made air-conditioner:

He’s like my own McGuyver, only sexier.

No, really.

I have to tell you, I really love that guy.   I suspect he would have not only caught the Road Runner, but he’d have had it roasting on a home-made spit, on a perfectly made campfire, basting in a gourmet marinade before you could say, “The air conditioner’s $800.00 motor broke and needs replacing.”

Ya can’t have him, he’s mine.  Go get yer own.

 

 

 

 

 

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~ Why? Why? Why? ~

I’d like to do a brief recap of the food I ate yesterday, the Fourth of July:

  • Milton Sausage Links
  • Scrambled Eggs with Creamed Onion and Spinach
  • Raspberry Danish
  • Coffee with Whole Milk and Stevia
  • Pastrami and Pepperoni Sandwich on a Whole Wheat Kaiser Roll
  • An Entire Blueberry Pie (eaten in 2 minutes)
  • Conch Fritters with Red Pepper Aioli
  • Pan Seared Halibut with Olive Tapenade

  • And a Grapefruit Margarita

When did the Fourth of July become synonymous with gluttony for me?  Ok, Ok, the Pie is because of the Annual Bethany Beach Pie Eating Contest, so that explains that particular excess, but how about the rest?

Our founding forefathers were not men of wanton gorging.  Except maybe for Benjamin Franklin.

So I guess that’s it, then.  I emulate Ben.

Meh, it could be worse.

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~ Conch ~

This:

is a plate full of Conch Fritters from Patty’s Restaurant in Bethany Beach, Delaware.

And this:

is what they do to your mouth.

Word.

 

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~ Goofball ~

I love my Varmint so completely.  She’s smart, she’s sensitive, she’s introspective, and most of all, she’s funny.  She loves to laugh and make other’s laugh.

I don’t know where she gets it.

We had taken the kids and their friends to Rehoboth Boardwalk, specifically Funland and Playland, so they could ride the rides that I had ridden when I was a kid.  We do this every year.  Every. Stinkin. Year.

Mind you, we don’t do it because the kids want to.  We do it because Mama is stuck in her childhood and is in denial that time is passing.  So I make the kids ride the same kiddie rides every year.

They take it in stride.  Like I said, they are good kids.  They don’t mind humoring Mama’s weird side every now and again.  But since it isn’t as entertaining for them as it used to be, Varmint makes it fun herself.  She get’s silly for Mama.

Case and point:

Here she is being silly for Mama.

Here is her friend Megan wondering what the heck she is doing.

And then Megan gets it and joins in.

I realize that most of you are like, “Uh, so what? So the kids are being goofy. What’s so special about that?”

Because most of the adults I know wouldn’t think of making a cake of themselves to make someone else smile.  They might crack a joke or something, but not at the expense of their own stature.  Kids will without hesitation, especially my Varmint; it’s sweet.

And I love her for it.

Ok, ok, I make a cake out of myself with regularity, but I think we’ve established that my growth is stunted.

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