Posts Tagged With: Love

~ Usurper ~

Sit back and read a story of betrayal.  Brace yourself for a tragedy and travesty so disheartening, you’ll be left weeping bitter, salty tears.

The story revolves around Macaroni and Cheese, My Captain, the rest of my traitorous family, a prosthetic knee, and me.  You can tell just by those players that this will be a real seat-gripper, can’t you?

Understand this:  I love to cook.  I always have.  I also love to eat.  And almost more than those two combined, I love to feed.

And I’ve gotten pretty good at it.  Almost got cocky about it, really.  There are few problems in life I can’t solve with a decent Baklava.  People know if you are hungry, I can fix it.

Last week I had an arthritic knee taken out of my right leg, and had a new, prosthetic one put in.  It’s been a rough ride because I’ve had not one, but two infections after my surgery.  The knee is doing really well; but I’m still a sick puppy, and on more antibiotics than my stomach can handle.

Nausea has been my constant companion.

So not only can I not stand long enough to cook, I can’t really even enjoy the thought of food. This is the first time in my life for that, I assure you!

Enter My Captain.  If you have read any of my previous posts, you’ll know he is a Captain, Station Commander, Firefighter, Paramedic, Rescue Technician, former Task Force Leader, builder, athlete, outdoorsman, and general manly-man.  But even as varied is talents are, “Cook” has never really something he is known for.

Never the less, over this past week and a half,  he has really stepped up to the plate.  The entire week that I was in the hospital, he never left my side.  And the last few days that I have been home, he has only left my side to do the work that would normally fall under my responsibilities, like laundry, or helping me get in the shower, or preparing ice bags for me, or making sure the kids got to their scheduled events on time, or charting my medicine schedule, or, my personal favorite, putting my jammies in the dryer to warm them for when I got out of the shower. (Ladies, THAT is where you separate the men from the boys!)

Absolutely grateful for this man’s giving nature, the extreme challenge of the last 10 days has been mitigated considerably.  And everything on that list he has done in his own, inimitable, perfectionist way.  It’s been amazing.  I’ve fallen in love with him again, and again, this week alone.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday My Captain cooked dinner.  It was a special dinner – Critter had a birthday!  Critter wanted homemade Mac-n-cheese, fresh mangos, and a “BOB” (from Monsters Vs. Aliens) birthday cake.  Obviously I wasn’t up to the task.   But this was a big deal because Critter loves my homemade Mac-n-cheese.  So I tried to supervise (micromanage) the culinary proceedings until my nausea quite literally drove me out of the kitchen, along with My Captain’s constant, “All Right!  All Right!  I got it already!”

Finally, it was finished.  My Captain, my children, Grandma Jane and I sat down.  It began almost immediately.  “This is the BEST Mac-n-cheese I’ve ever had!”  and, “Wow, Mom has got to do whatever it is you do with this recipe!” and, “Can I have thirds?”.  Even my own mother, who has always had my back in life, got on the bandwagon with, “I don’t usually like Mac-n-cheese, Troy, but I sure would like the recipe for this.”

And me?  My contribution to the discussion?  “It needs salt.”

My Captain hasn’t smirked.  He hasn’t snickered, or rubbed it in.  He has been ever the humble gentleman about it.

And do you know why?

Sure, sure, it has something to do with the good man he is, but deeper than that, it is something far more powerful.

He knows that he has to sleep sometime, and stealing even a piece of my Kitchen Goddess Crown is a dangerously perilous marital crime!

I will say, though, it was tasty……

dammit.

Categories: Family | Tags: , , , , , | 1 Comment

~ If You Can’t Beat ‘Em….~

Every year we decorate the Carved Wooden Moose outside the Little Cottage for various holidays.  On Christmas, he sports Ol’ Saint Nick’s red hat. He really is as festive as any 9-foot moose can be.

Last year, his red hat had a little bit of a mishap, and had to be thrown away.  (By mishap, I mean that I got so frustrated when I couldn’t remove the hat post-New Years, I ended ripping the ding-dang thing clean off of his head.   Apparently I have anger management issues….)

So this year I had the task of sewing the Moose a NEW Santa Claus hat.  My Captain promised he would help design it.  I loved this idea because whenever My (big, strong hunk of a) Captain does something as sweet and sensitive as pick up a sewing needle, I get all gushy and warm inside.  Last year, it happened when Critter’s backpack needed mending….Talk about CHICK magnet.  Good NIGHT!)

Where was I?  Right, My captain started to help designing The Moose’s new holiday hat. I was envisioning just making a ginormous cone hat out of red felt, and then cutting an “X” wherever an antler or ear might be.

This is NOT how My Captain’s Left-Brain personality works.

Before I knew it, he had blue-prints, schematics, and back-up logistic plans in effect.  He was prepared.  Newsprint for pattern making?  Check.  Tape Measure?  Check.  Sharpie?  Check.  Red Felt?  Check.

But My Captain did NOT plan on one eensie weensie, but ultimately IMPORTANT aspect of this process.

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Sir Monty of Stinky Butt.

Oh, sure, he LOOKS benign enough,

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He LOOKS like he is only being attentive….

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He LOOKS like he hasn’t an evil-mastermind within that wee fuzzikins head of his.

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And then…..The Butt Wiggle.

The Butt Wiggle means attack is imminent.

The Butt Wiggle means you’d better hurry up and finish what you’re trying to accomplish.

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Especially if you are working with Sharpie Pens.  On Cream Carpeting.  New Cream Carpeting that would be reason enough for your wife to beat you like a piñata if you got ink on it.

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My Captain tried in vain to ignore Sir Monty.  He endeavored to work around him.

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All that did was induce Monty to call in the reinforcements.  Silly Captain.  You thought this would be straight-forward.  It’s just a Santa Hat, after all.

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My Captain is a smart man.  Wise enough to know when he’s made a fatal miscalculation.  Humble enough to admit defeat.

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He picked up his tape measure, and joined the party.

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Of course, Sir Monty knew all along that this would be how it ended.

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Sir Monty: 1, My Captain: 0.

Categories: Family | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

~ Fireproof ~

So there is this movie called “Fireproof,”

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about a firefighter struggling to save his marriage.  It’s the best Friday night Movie with your hubby on the couch kind of movie.

Kirk Cameron…

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stars as the Hero in the movie, and I am always amazed at how he nails his portrayal of a Fire Captain.   I might not be able to say the same about the realism in the fire scenes, but heck, this isn’t about accuracy!  It’s entertainment folks!

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As to Cameron’s role, it really was not bad for an actor who, to my knowledge anyway, hasn’t been a true Captain fighting blazes.

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I have always enjoyed this movie immensely.  Sure, maybe it’s because I’m biased, and think that my own husband is the same Hero, the same Captain, and the same noble man Kirk Cameron plays, but to that I say, “Whatever works!”

Here’s a trailer to the movie if you have never seen it:  Fireproof Trailer 

So, the other day My own Captain was in training during his shift, and snapped a few photos.   I won’t bore you with what I think are the MOST interesting photos in the world, but I had to share a couple, because, well, they are so TOTALLY right out of Fireproof:

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This guy, James, is an officer affectionately known to some of us as “Jimmy John.”  A more conscientious, loyal, honorable, smart, heroic man, you’ll never meet (unless you met My Captain…).  The shot above made me grin, because in it, he looks EXACTLY like Kirk Cameron.

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What a freaking STUD!!!

I see men like Jimmy John, and My Captain, and I wonder, how is it that this world has any problems when we have men like this to solve them?

I guess we just need more of these guys.  Or we need to push the ones we already have out further in the spotlight.  We need to give them more media time than the Honey-Boo-Boo’s and the Kardashians.

But it’s not a true hero’s nature to WANT to be in the spotlight, though.

Which makes them all the more desirable.

Oh there are still plenty out there, friends.  You just won’t find them in the spotlight.  But believe me, they are there.

Categories: Family, Fire and Rescue | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

~ Tricking The Fireman ~

My Captain had his 48th Birthday yesterday.  We had a small dinner party for him at Goggy and Papa’s house, and Goggy made My Captain’s favorite childhood dish, then dubbed and forevermore thusly known as:   “Chicken in the Black Pot.”

It was yummy.

And I made a cake!  A Chocolate Éclair Cake!

And I made it sugar-free!  I substituted Xylitol for every instance it called for sugar.

It didn’t taste half bad.

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But the candles were the part I wanted to share with you.  I got the dorky re-lighting kind.  I love to do stuff like that.  Call me Mephistopheles.

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But dagnabbit!  That man knew right away what kind of candles they were just by the way they were burning and sparking.  He didn’t even TRY to blow out the candles. He just started snuffing them out with his fingers.

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Which, by the way, OW!

He thought he was foiling my plot!  But ha-ha!  Not so fast, there Skippy!

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It ain’t so easy, there Bucko!

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Whatsamatta, little boy?  Candles won’t stay out?

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Awwwww.

That smile on My Captain’s face?  It’s more valuable to me than chocolate.

And THAT is saying something.

Grandma Jane got My Captain something as well……

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And So It Continues!  THE FAMILY RUBBER CHICKEN.

(It gets re-gifted everywhere)

What?  Doesn’t everyone have one?

 

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

~ Earning A Man Card ~

It has been hotter than a World War II Pin-up Girl here in Dickerson this week.  Though the thermometer reads 95 degrees, with the humidity that comes with the swamp that is the greater Washington DC area, the Humiture is usually around 105 degrees.  Basically, you walk out of any air-conditioned building, and the hot, wet air hits you like a concrete and steel-reinforced, brick wall.  The air is so stifling;  every breath feels used already…. like someone is breathing directly into your face.   It’s nasty.  And gross.  I don’t do well with pre-breathed air.

My Captain, when he wasn’t working this week, has had the unlucky task of digging up the wooden border around Critter and Varmint’s old playground.

The one outside in the back yard.

The one in the sun and pre-breathed air.

The one with all the bugs and yucky mud.

Poor Captain!

Critter watched him from the coolness of the kitchen, and wondered aloud about how long it would take to finish the job.  I eyed him speculatively and answered, “I dunno, but I reckon it would go a lot faster if he had some help.”

“I can’t do anything to help him,” he shrugged.

“How would you know if you don’t ask?”

Man I’m good.  Smoother than 30-year-old Whiskey, and twice as effective.  I lobbed that guilt-grenade right over his head…he never saw it coming.  Dead Bulls-eye.  I’m like a guilt-sniper.  Ka-POW.

He grumbled and went out.  And by ‘grumbled,’ I mean bitched.  Audibly.  Copiously.  He was, as they say, unwilling.

Five minutes later, however, I watched him through the window wielding a hammer, and some other strange device that, while probably originally designed for a different task entirely, looked to me like a Medieval bludgeoning device.

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Apparently My Captain entrusted him with the task of removing screws from 25-year-old pressure treated 6X6s.  This is NOT an easy task…..And certainly not if you are 60lbs, working in the sun when it is over a hundred degrees, and the bugs are eating you alive.

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I was sure there would be more, er, unwillingness being communicated.

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But Mama learned a lesson in Male-ness that day.  Instead of focusing on being too hot, or too bug-bitten, or too frustrated when screws would be difficult, Critter dug in.  He took it as a challenge, not as an undesireble chore.  And I could see that a little bit of discomfort and adversity actually sat well with him.

I’m not saying he would sign up to do it every day, but he wasn’t a tool about it.

I could see My Captain was just as surprised as I was that Critter wasn’t quitting in disgust.  It was obvious he was enjoying being ‘one of the men,’ and doing manly tasks.  You might even go as far as to say he took PRIDE in working with My Captain.

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He didn’t have time to whine.

He was too busying earning his man-card.

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

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