Posts Tagged With: fun

~ Dapper Moose ~

March has hit The Little Cottage, full-tilt!  The children’s art wall now sports homemade St. Patty’s day clovers from years-gone-by.

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Every year, our family has gathered at the kitchen table to make our own artistic renderings of shamrocks.  No, we’re not Irish, but we do like to celebrate like we were!!!

Who wouldn’t?  No one, that’s who!

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This was Varmint’s, from last year……

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…and this was Critters from 2008….he had a hard time writing his name (Garrick), and so this particular shamrock is known as the “Gorrk Shamrock”.

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And this one was Grandma Jane’s from way back in….oh, wait…it was last year.  Let’s be honest…she pencil-whipped it.  Grandma Jane has a problem with whipping up motivation to make shamrocks.  I think that particular shamrock was her way of saying “Here’s my bleepity bleep bleep family shamrock…can we eat now?”  She’s like that….

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And after we do the shamrocks, which everyone except Grandma happily does, we dress up the Moose.   He has a nice top hat and bow tie.  He’s dapper, that guy.

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You’ll note the yummy muffins in the background.  I wish I could  brag that they were homemade, but this particular carbo-loaded pile is fresh from the store.

I’ll be honest, my muffins suck. No Blarney.  For real.  I’ve rarely been able to turn out a perfectly fluffy muffin.  Got a C in Home Economics on my muffins because I was too rough on my batter.  Some things never change.

Don’t tell anyone.  I live in shame, to this day.

Where was I?

Right, the Moose.  My Captain dressed him yesterday.  He did it super fast, too.  Faster than you could look up how to spell Shillelagh….which took me longer than you’d believe because I’m a bonehead, apparently.

He walked out there, all casual-like, threw the costume on lightning-quick, and hightailed it back to the house before more than a couple of cars passed the house.

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Our Dapper Leprechaun Moose.  Do you think My Captain was embarrassed to be seen doing that for me?  That’s love, I tell ya.

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Eleven more days until St. Patty’s day!   Not that we’re counting or anything!

Don’t judge.

 

Categories: Family, Food | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

~ Icing On The Cake ~

Yesterday, on My Captain’s 50th birthday, the entire Montgomery County Fire and Rescue Operations Staff were out pounding the pavement for their annual Muscular Dystrophy Association Fundraising Drive.

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In other words, they were trading in their good looks and charming dispositions for the loose change in the ashtray of every vehicle that stopped at the intersection they held up.

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It was a hot, humid day, as always.  Actually, it was a hot and humid 3 days, as all three shifts in the county get to participate.  They actually compete against each other to see who can raise the most donations.  In years past, My Captain’s shift has fared really well on that contest.  I don’t know what they were doing to win…maybe going shirtless and just wearing their running gear pants and suspenders or something.  (Obviously, the female firefighters could seriously pull in the moola with that maneuver).

One year, I offered to stand out there with them. It was hotter than this year, and I, in all of my soft and squishy mama-ness got overheated and nearly passed out.  It was rawwwwthar embarrassing, took time for the guys to get me out of the street and into the shade, and basically was a big pain in the butt for people trying to accomplish something other than dealing with me!

This year I was like, “Hey Hon, do you want me to come hold a boot for a while?” and he was like, “Er…don’t you have a birthday cake to make or something?”

But fortunately, they didn’t really need me and my begging talents.   All the fire stations’ shifts were already out.  This is Engine 732’s crew.  They are the next station over from My Captain’s station.  Their station is shiny and new and big and has professionals to clean the place unlike My Captain’s aging firehouse.  Those things don’t make 32 a better fire shift, but it is something I like to bring up over and over again, just to stir the pot.

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And here is Station 8’s Captain, none other than My Captain’s best friend, (since 3rd grade when his father forced him to play with My Captain,) Ty.

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Ty lets his wife hold the boot.

Well, he kind of has to, since she is a firefighter:

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paramedic/badass:

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at Fire Station 34, who probably doesn’t fall out in a little heat during the MDA drive.

But the point is, she gets to play.

And I don’t.  I mean, geez, you fall out one time and they never let you come play in the traffic again.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, Captain Ty was out in the traffic, too.

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I think we can all agree that Ty is hot.  No, I mean HOT, like, it was stinkin HOT, and humid out.

That, and he’s really good looking and virile.  If you like that sort of thing.

Which Maggie does.

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And she’s no slouch herself.

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I want to be her when I grow up.   I also want to be a Moose.   Like a real Montana Moose.  But that is for an entirely different counseling session, altogether.

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Back to My Captain’s shift.  So they were out playing in the traffic, raising quite a bit of  money for Jerry’s Kids.

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And nobody got hit this year.

Which is nice.

Last year, My Captain had a few near misses.  We won’t elaborate on why people with ADD shouldn’t play in traffic, I don’t care what their rank is.

At the end of the day, the guys counted up all the donations.  I think My Captain’s shift pulled in something like $8,000.  THAT is a LOT of pennies, folks.  Some of them, Canadian.

I think they also received a few Hershey’s Park play tokens, and a few ladies’ phone numbers, but MDA let them keep those.

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But NONE of this is the point to this post. The POINT is that last year, for My Captain’s birthday, I had the time to bake him his favorite Boston Cream Pie.

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It was a real Beaut!

THIS year, however, my kitchen is all torn up, I’m not sure where all of my baking pans are, and I didn’t have time.   It’s his 50th birthday, and I couldn’t even bake him a ding-dang cake, even though he was working all day in the heat for MDA during his shift, AND running emergency calls, AND trying to get administration stuff done.   And I couldn’t even give him a homemade cake.

I suck, is what I’m saying.

But I DID go buy a cake that the shift could share after they got off of the roads last night.  And since I suck, I didn’t order it decorated ahead of time, so I had to write the birthday wishes on it myself.

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I had a little trouble with the icing.

Ahem.

My Captain sent me a photo after they cut into it, to show me how well the icing fared, as it sat in the fire house, for hours, waiting for the guys to finish the MDA  street walking……2015-09-03 15.52.09

Eeeesh.

It’s a damn good thing that My Captain has low expectations in a mate.

Don’t judge.

Categories: Family, Fire and Rescue | Tags: , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

~ Getting Old In A Firehouse ~

A half-century.

Fifty stinkin’ years.

Most of those fighting fires as a Captain, and saving lives as a Paramedic.

Most of those getting up ridiculously early.

Most of those having sleep interrupted, often several times a night, to respond to 911 calls.

Most of those mentoring younger firefighters and paramedics.

Most of those training and supporting Special Ops men and women in the art of collapse rescue.

Most of those in the front, right side “Officer’s Seat” of the fire engine.

And today, being his 50th birthday, as he came onto his shift at the butt-crack of dawn, he was reminded so very well of exactly how much respect he has earned.

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Firehouse style.

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Happy Birthday, My Beloved Old Fart!  May you have many, many more.

(And may you have an opportunity to get them back!)

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~ Firehouse Feng Shui ~

I was sitting in My Captain’s office for a moment, having just delivered the shift a big ol’ pan of Icebox Peanutbutter Pie, waiting for My Captain to finish his email, and try said pie, when I noticed his desk.

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And I began to look harder at it.

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Eesh.

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What a piece of crap his desk is.  The man has put 28 years of service into Montgomery County Fire and Rescue, and his desk is a piece of broken down trash.

He doesn’t seem to notice it.  He’s got things to do.  Places to go.  People to save.

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Then I looked at Lt. Tom’s desk.  Its legs were totally rusted.

Then I got up, walked down the hall to the Watch Desk (where emergency information is received) and immediately noticed it was a little worn as well.

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And chipped.

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Of course Mr. Ward doesn’t notice it, because he’s got work to do, places to go, people to save, that kind of thing.

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And just outside the door into the engine bay is the shelving unit that holds things to be repaired.  It looks about as good as I feel some mornings.

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What the heck, man?

And just down the hall in the kitchen, right smack dab in the middle of their eating area is this beautiful view.

0516151720aI found myself wondering why the county allows this station to fall to rack and ruin.  It’s bad enough ANY firemen would have to work in this kind of environment, but that the cream of the crop, the Special Ops team, should be housed like this blew my mind.  Why aren’t we taking better care of our heroes???

Turns out they tend to take care of themselves. Like here in the laundry room….the guys needed shelves for their air cylinders,

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and also for other gear.

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Did they wait for the powers-that-be to find the money, approve the money, and begin the ordering process?  Nope.  They just built what they needed themselves.  ‘A ‘shift did, in fact (the shift after My Captain’s shift.) They have no time for bureaucratic mumbo-jumbo.  They have a job to do, and so they do what needs to be done.

My Captain tells me that, while the men wouldn’t mind a station upgrade, on the whole they are too busy to be much effected by it.  The money they’d need to fix up the place gets slated for other priorities, so if they can’t make it themselves, they shake their heads, and make do.

And even then, when you’re running out the door to go help someone in a fire, or someone having a heart attack, the state of your desk isn’t high on your priority list.

In other words, they’re too busy getting it done to notice how good it all looks while they’re doing it.

I understand that, I really do.  But I just wish that the people in charge of taking care of these guys would crack open a Better Homes and Garden magazine every now and then.  SOMETHING.  Something to show the love, for Pete’s sake. Matching pillows or mood lighting for crying out loud.  Maybe a lovely center piece on the watch desk, or some nice textured artwork.  Bring in some Feng Shui….

or at least desks that aren’t falling apart.

Categories: Fire and Rescue | Tags: , , , | 2 Comments

~ Critter’s Quest ~

If you have children…  Or if you had children, and they are now grown….  Or if you ever were a child yourself (wait, what?), then this story will take you back, make you smile, and put warm squishy fuzzy feelings in your gut, similar to that of gas from a Taco Bell Volcano Supreme Burrito.

THIS is Critter’s living room fort.  It spans the entire room, and uses all of the chairs, including My Captain’s favorite recliner.  To get into the fort, you have to say the password.

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How do you get the password?  You have to go on a quest for it, of course.

I had just picked up My Captain from the airport shuttle this evening, and he was exhausted from several days of training out in San Diego, and feeling sick in general.  He wanted nothing more than to pop open one of his high-falootin’ fancy schmancy micro-brew beers, kick back in his recliner, and let Sir Monty of Stinky Butt curl up in his lap to bring his blood pressure down.

But he didn’t know the password. So guess who had to start a quest for the password, and was good natured enough about it to be resigned to said quest, instead of stomping his feet and ripping down the fort?  That’s right, My Beloved.

Here was the beginning:

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Aha!  Cookie’s gravestone is in the Hosta Garden out back.

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We’ll start there!

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There, buried deep in the hostas and Lily of the Valley, lies Cookie, our sweet calico who lived to the ripe old age of 18 before she passed on to the great catnip fields in the sky.

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We followed the smashed hosta leaves to Cookie’s grave marker, and found the next clue. Note to self: Remind Critter that henceforth we will NOT be placing clues in any of mommy’s flower beds.

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Hmmm.   My Captain wonders if Critter is crazy enough to mean the country road we live on.

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We shudder to think of him crouching down on this road….long enough to tape a clue to the pavement.

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Who knew scotch tape worked on asphalt?

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The only ‘ride’ we ever had was an old Zip Line we had, that a tree took down during Hurricane Sandy. And the only part of that left is the stand My Captain and Papa built for it.

And it is all the way back UP…

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the stinkin’ hill. 

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(Did I mention My Captain was tired from traveling several thousand miles today?)

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What is high as an elephant’s eye?

Wait a minute, Varmint was in the musical Oklahoma earlier this year.  We found ourselves singing:”The corn is as high as an elephant’s eyyyyyyyyeeeeeee.”

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He couldn’t have put the next clue all the way out in the corn field, could he?

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Through the magical fairy path in the woods (yes, complete with glitter on the trail….)

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and through the prickers, raspberries, and poison ivy….

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Until it opens up to the great corn field.

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and we find the password.

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All of that effort for this ridiculous password.

Was it worth it?

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Eyup.

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You bet your sweet Schnitzel it was.

Categories: Family | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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