Category Archives: Family

Take My Watermelon…. please

As anyone who entertains these days will tell you, the RSVP is a hit-or-miss art. I lucked out on my party last night – everybody who showed up had RSVP’d.  There were a few folks that I didn’t hear from at all, but for planning purposes, I assumed they were not coming.  But even so, trying to figure out how much food to prepare for a large group can be a little like trying to figure out how many jelly beans are in the jar. Advanced degrees might help, but just a little.

Last night I did pretty well. There is a little potato salad left, a few helpings of the ramen salad and enough of the 7-layer dip for a lunch or two. There are still quite a few goodies left, but to be fair, we started with A LOT (the peanut butter cup cheesecake bites that YA wanted were extremely rich so I cut them into small pieces – a lot of small pieces)!

The one place I didn’t estimate well was the fruit salad. I made a watermelon bowl, which means on top of the fruit salad, I have all the watermelon that I had to remove to make said  bowl. And I made a huge amount of fruit salad as well.  Even if you freeze the leftovers for smoothies, it’s still quite a bit.

Normally when folks leave one of my gatherings there is the usual exhortation to take a small plate of food home; last night it was watermelon. I sent home at least six containers of watermelon – but I wonder what people think when the last words they hear from their hostess as a begging “take some watermelon… please take some watermelon”!

What’s your favorite leftover?

Artistic Temperament?

I planned a surprise activity for Nonny this morning. I knew I wouldn’t be able to really describe the experience well and she might not be excited about it, so I just sprung it on her. This turned out to be the perfect strategy.

We went to Simply Jane’s, a non-profit art studio just across the parking lot from Wiseacre (the restaurant that replaced our beloved Liberty Custard). They do amazing work at Simply Janes: art camp for kids in the summer, art therapy for the disabled. They hire the disabled when possible and go out to hospitals for those who can’t get to their storefront for an art outing. To raise the money for these services, they have a “drop in and paint” program.  There are many canvases of different sizes with various simple art pre-drawn in black marker; you choose the one you want, they provide the paint, the brushes, even the paint smock.  They even have master classes if you want to do a more complicated painting based on, well… the masters.

Nonny, who will repeatedly tell you that she is not artistic (hence the ‘spring the experience’ on her) chose a dragon and I chose a dolphin. Mine was a little bigger but since I had been to Simply Jane’s before, I thought I would be able to get mine done without having to make Nonny wait.

We had a great time – after we were done, the staff went over our paintings with a sharpie to make the initial lines distinct and then shellacked them for little more shine. Nonny asked lots of questions and took some of the literature with her. My guess is that she’ll look for something similar in St. Louis.  She’s thinking of where to hang her little treasure now… at dinner she said “I guess it’s too big to hang from the rear view mirror in my car”!

What would you like to draw for art therapy?

My Life as a Baboon Whisperer

Today’s post comes to us from Jacque.

Over the weekend I found a new website which I like, ozy.com. It has a variety of news and special interest stories.  I was browsing through it when I came upon this irresistible article, “My Life as a Baboon Whisperer.”    Apparently in South Africa alpha baboons have become a local menace, kind of like the bears in Northern Minnesota. The alpha males are raiding local garbage cans as a food source.

In 2009 a South African city decided to start exterminating the baboons doing the raiding. The article is written by the person who started Baboon Matters. Baboon Matters is an organization which tries behavioral alternatives to shooting the offending animals.   The organization discovered the following:  “so-called ‘raiding baboons’ are almost always alpha males, and killing them creates a vacuum in the troop hierarchy that results in chaos.”

When I read the quote, the first thought flitting through my mind was, “This sounds a lot like politics in the USA at present.” The second thought was, “It is so nice to know Baboons Matter!”

Here is the link to the article:

http://www.ozy.com/true-story/my-life-as-a-baboon-whisperer/79380

After reading this so many questions that might fit at the end of this post went through my head:

What kind of whisperer do I want to be? How does this situation serve as a metaphor for American politics right now?  Who will save us?

What question would you pose for others after reading this?

Your Mortal Remains

Today’s post comes from Reneeinnd

A friend of mine has the sad task this week of spreading the remaining half of her sister in law’s ashes in the ND Badlands. Her sister in law died of complications of West Nile Virus.  It is truly tragic, and my post, although it contains some levity, isn’t meant to diminish her life.  Sometimes humor is the only remedy for grief.

I say the remaining ashes, as half of the ashes have already been spread in a lake near where the woman grew up in eastern ND. I guess she loved both places. Given how windy it is here, it might have worked just as well to stand at the Montana border on a windy day and let them sail east with the prevailing gale. They would have reached the eastern part of the state eventually.

My friend is quite familiar with the odd and strange when it comes to funerals.   She works with developmentally disabled individuals and has coordinated the funerals of several of elderly clients lately, people with no family able or willing to help out.  Last month she stopped an interment in mid descent and insisted that the funeral director turn the casket around so that the client was facing east, which is how Catholic remains are supposed to face around here.  Her client may have out of step during life, but my friend wanted to make sure the individual was facing the right direction for the Second Coming.

When I look out of the kitchen window I see three urns that contain the remains of our dog and two cats. I have been thinking about downsizing when I retire and we eventually move, and I wonder if we will take the pet ashes with us or do something else with them. I really can’t see moving them with the rest of the household, so I suppose we will commemorate the furry ones in some fashion and empty the urns in some beautiful place. Then, I wonder, what do we do with the used urns? We could keep them for future pet ashes I suppose, although I think there is something kind of morbid about people who keep and recycle pet urns.

I believe the Catholic Church has decreed that cremation is fine, but you have to keep your ashes in one place and not spread them around.  I’m not Catholic, but I want to be cremated and kept in one container and buried somewhere yet to be determined.  I want tangible proof that I existed. Husband hasn’t decided what he wants. I remember the very funny tale of a Baboon dealing with her parents’ ashes by mixing them up in a paper bag so they could spend eternity together. I think that would be a little much for our children to handle, so Husband and I need to come up with a unified plan. I suppose we could just use the vacant pet urns and save a bundle at the funeral home.

What are your plans for your mortal remains?

The Allotment

Me: Come over and put your head in here so I can take a picture.
YA: No.
Me: Come on.  Please.
YA: No.
Me: Why not?
YA: You’ve used up your allotment of silly pictures.
Me: But I only took one at the zoo.
YA: That was your allotment.

So what’s my take-away from this? That my child used the word “allotment” correctly!

What was your last surprise?

Party Down

Today’s post comes from tim

my daughter had a graduation party this weekend when she described what she wanted it sounded strange as it turns out it was very nice she wanted to have a waffle bar and a barista serving espresso oh what about scones and muffins no she said maybe donut holes and how about some French roast coffee and the amaretto hazelnut flavoring maybe if you said but I think chai tea is a better choice the barista asked me to show him how the espresso machine worked and that was that…he was busy non stop and chai tea was a hit along with espresso cappuccino and latte grandpa from Chicago handled the waffle bar and took great pride in knowing exactly how much of the batter should go into each waffle maker strawberries raspberries blueberries chocolate chip jams marmalades and whipped cream rounded out the entire offering  there was a little table with a wooden decorated imitation steamer trunk to put cards to the graduate in and a memory book to jot down heartfelt messages to last through the ages there was an area to take pictures in front of a back ground sheet holding up a Mardi Gras mask or a 2017 identifier on a stick The rain held off until 245 for a party that was supposed to end at three and everyone who was remaining scurried to their cars and left in short order in by 305 we were picking up the yard The table folded down nicely the table cloths got washed or throwing out depending on the weather they were cloth or paper the table got moved to locations that made sense when there weren’t clusters of people spaced sporadically about the yard and everything was wonderful except…

by the guest login book and the waffle buffet my wife had purchased gala table centerpieces with stars and iridescent streamers and must have also received Little pieces of  confetti in the shape of a graduate hat these little pieces of confetti were the size of the stars they used to get on your homework paper back in the old days they were very similar if not identical to the stars used to get on your homework paper back in the old days it occurred to me that those confetti stars are made in such a way that they will sit in the landfill without degradation for a lifetime they are put on the table as kind of a cutesy afterthought and thrown away without a concern or a thought about how they came to be placed in the landfill and how long they would remain I walked by the garbage can in front of my garage door and saw one of those little graduation hats sitting on the concrete and knew that if I left it there it would be there two years from now when I am celebrating my last daughters graduation party I feel bad when I take a perfect moment and find a little detail to bitch about but it seems to me that that’s what’s wrong with the world is that nobody thinks about the little details of making a meaningless piece of confetti out of everlasting material instead of biodegradable material

The oil companies Third World countries and developing nations all find a reason to worry about it later I hope my daughter and the people who are graduating today learn from the mindless guidelines that have been left by our generation for them to tweak

how do you keep from letting a little disturbances screw up your day

Powerful Possessions

This post is from littlejailbird.

As many of you know, I have twin grandsons (I also have two other grandchildren but they live several hours away so I don’t see them as often). I will refer to these 3-year-old boys as Twin One and Twin Two in order to protect their privacy.

These glasses you see in the photo are powerful glasses. While they may not have lenses, they can still enhance a certain little boy’s vision.

Twin One uses these glasses when he watches TV (things like Daniel Tiger) because, as he says, “They help me see better.” And the other day, he said, as he headed upstairs after dark,“These glasses help me see in the dark!”

Twin Two sometimes wears these glasses but he does not seem to gain the same benefits from them as Twin One.

Do you have any funny or interesting stories about people using their imagination?

Cleaning the Tool Bench

My father brought all his remaining tools with him when he moved in with us the last five months of his life.   He gave lots away before he left Luverne, and took pride in how he arranged and organized his tools in his new home in North Dakota.

Since his death, we haven’t kept the tool bench as neat as Dad would want it. To be honest, it has been a disgrace for a couple of years, and Husband decided that today was the day to straighten it up.  The feature photo is a before picture. Dad didn’t care that he had duplicates of many of his tools, and we just keep them the way he displayed them.

 

As you can see from the photo, we will never need to purchase a socket set for the rest of our lives.

The coffee containers are full of drill bits, screws, nails, wall anchors, sand paper, garden staples, utility knives, nuts, bolts, washers, holders to use on the peg board, and just about anything anyone could need at a tool bench.

I am glad Husband took the initiative to get this done. I hope we can keep it this way for a while.

It is the weekend. What would your parents want you to accomplish before Monday?

 

 

Popcorn Memories

Today’s post comes from Ben.

I was thinking about popcorn tonight. Actually I wanted popcorn tonight… but I didn’t want to go to the trouble of making it; I wanted a bag of cold popcorn out of the freezer. But that meant making some and freezing it and that seemed like a long wait and a lot of trouble.

And that’s how come I’m thinking about popcorn.

I first learned to make popcorn in a large metal pot on the stovetop. Add some oil, throw in a few kernels, wait until they pop, then add more, add the lid and shake it across the stove. I can hear that sound of the heavy metal pot scrapping across the electric stove elements.

I don’t remember what we served it in.

My grandfather grew popcorn one year. He was quite the gardener. I remember it had to dry and we had to husk it. No idea how it tasted…

I think at some point we had one of those concave, yellow plastic cover poppers; I think you were supposed to serve it in the lid when it was done. And you added butter to the top – it was supposed to drip on to the popcorn before you flipped it over, right? I don’t remember mom ever doing that.

And then there was the black pan w/ the handle on the top in order to stir the popcorn. That one didn’t last long; it probably didn’t work that well.

Then we got air poppers… they worked and were fun. But mom still wouldn’t let me put butter in the little dish on the top. And the popcorn had a tendency to fly out all over…

I remember going to a cabin with my sister and her in-laws when I was about 10. They had ‘Jiffy Pop’ and I’d never seen Jiffy pop before and I was kinda fascinated with the foil bag getting bigger and bigger. I remember her in-laws making sexual references about that. (I don’t remember anything specific, but I knew what they were joking about… and then ‘Grandpa’ grabbed ‘Grandma’ by one finger and kinda tugged on it and kept saying they had to go. People laughed. I was uncomfortable.)

And this one looks familiar. We may have had one of these.

Fourth of July tradition after I met Kelly: Her aunt would pop (in oil on the stove!) a brown paper bag full of popcorn and we’d park on the side of the street right down by Silver Lake to watch the fireworks. Soon as they were over we throw everything in the van because we had to beat the traffic out of downtown.

And then day old popcorn, out of the grease stained bag was THE BEST!

(Several years later… Kelly and I and the kids are trying to get that spot on the street again. Parking rules have changed and parking isn’t allowed. So you have to time it just right that magically ALL the cars will park at once just before the fireworks start and then the cops won’t chase you all away. I, however, have parked in the entrance to the local power plant. The cop asks us to move. I said I thought since it was closed it would be OK. He says there might be an emergency. I said I’d move if there was…..? He smiled. I moved.)

And then came microwave popcorn. How many fire alarms have been set off at work or school from the burned popcorn??

But still, the best is movie theater popcorn. With enough butter to choke a horse.

Sometimes I go to the movies just to buy popcorn. And if you buy a large, you can get a free refill on popcorn. And I got to thinking tonight (remember I was thinking about popcorn) it it’s free refills… do they care if I go to a movie? Is there a specific amount of time that has to pass between buying the popcorn and getting the refill??

You see where I’m going with this; what if I buy a large bag, dump it into some zip lock bags, and ask for a refill? That’s not wrong is it?

Do I have to buy a bag, go into the ‘megaplex’ area to a lounge, fill my bags and find a different clerk to refill? But again, why the bother? I buy a large, dump in a Target bag, and ask for a refill. Am I right??

And now the places that make the cheddar popcorn! Oh My… I could eat a gallon of that without even trying. That is good stuff. I have to forcibly limit myself around cheddar popcorn. Especially from ‘Carrols Corn’ here in Rochester. (http://www.carrollscorn.com/)

Back to popcorn in the freezer. When I was a kid and I was in the hospital, mom would bring me popcorn for a snack. She’d freeze it and bring it to me in Wonder Bread bags. (we were so poor we had to reuse the Wonder Bread Bags).

And now when I bring home extra popcorn, I put it in quart ziplock bags and put it in the freezer. It stays fresh, it doesn’t get soggy, and it’s a nice, quick, easy, cool snack.

GOT A STORY ABOUT POPCORN?

 

 

The Dining Room

We just got back home after a quick trip to Brookings, SD, to visit son and Daughter in Law, and to watch son perform in community theatre production of The Dining Room by A. R. Gurney.   The production was performed at SDSU as a benefit for Habitat for Humanity.  Son was one of 6 actors performing 57 parts in total. It tells the stories associated with a dining room across decades and diners.

Son wrote in his autobiographical blurb his keen memories of our dining room, and the  myriad of dishes that were consumed and the homework that was done there. He also mentioned that one of his most vivid memories of the dining room was a battle of wills he had with me, one that lasted, it seemed for hours, over his refusal to eat a bowl of my famous, homemade, minestrone soup.  After the play I told him that his children are going to LOVE that soup when I make it for them, and he is just being silly about not  liking cabbage in his minestrone.

What are your dining room stories, past, present, or future?