Babette Redux

Bird is taking a home study cooking class. (Some of you may laugh, but I can do one better—I know for a fact that HB took a home study dance class for college credit.)

One of the requirements is to give a presentation on preparing and cooking a simple meal to a group of 3 people or is it to prepare a meal for 3 simple people? Bird chose cs, Megs, and me. Janny was present, but in the other room zoning out and entertaining Bug (or vise-versa) with the Wii. FSIL was working late.

The demoed meal was Chicken Marsala. She had sliced up the chicken breast into thin slices, then breaded it in flour with salt, and fried it in a pan with olive oil, mushrooms, two cloves of chopped up garlic and parsley. (Bear with me, I'm going by memory here.)

I do remember that she said that it could be cooked in Marsala wine—hence the name of the dish, but she chose to use chicken broth as a substitute. She then served it over some cooked rice that she had prepared a secret way—using chicken broth instead of water. It improves the flavor.

The meal was delicious and of course she received the highest evaluation from 2 of the 3 people. What's up with that, Megs?

If all us give her 100%, then it will look like it's rigged.

Great meal, Bird. Now, FSIL has his own Babette to wine (chicken broth) and dine him.

Serious bonding

Yesterday, at 5:30 a.m. the phone rang. It was Bird asking for some help. She had been up all night with c8 and needed to get some sleep. She was asking for cs to come down and help tend because FSIL was going to work and she needed to get some sleep.

So cs said, Yes and volunteered me! I was glad to get to spend some time with c8. I wasn't so glad to get the "mothering" lecture for 15 minutes before I was released to go.

Don't pound on her when you burp her. Remember gentle taps. If you can hear your fingers tapping then that is too hard. You're not pounding on a drum. (Right, like I'm going to pound Iron Butterfly's drum solo of In-A-Gadda-Diva on my grandkid's back.)

Keep her upright for 15 minutes after you feed her. Don't let the bottle drain too fast. Give it to her for a minute then pull it away. Yada, yada, yada.

c8 and I had a great time bonding for half-a-day. (She told me that I was a "natural").

Cate JaNae Arnold

She's here! And great timing too. C8 born on the 8th in 2008.
Arrived @ 09:52 a.m. Too bad for the rest of you because I won the prize. (Closest time without going over. I'll let you know what the secret ingredient was.)
5 lbs 15 oz
17.5 inches

Congratulations to Bird and FSIL…good job!

Question of the day: Dad, how long before the wrinkles disappear?
Not certain whether the reference was to C8 or me.

Sharp as a needle

cs was doing some repair on a pair of my britches for me. She asked me to bring her a bar of soap. I asked her why. Thinking that she was going to mark the pants with the soap. (I had seen soap used to trace out a pattern onto new material before, but she was hand-sewing the pants so I couldn't figure out what the soap was for.)

She replied, My needle is dull.

So what good is the soap?

Now mind you, Bird is my witness. cs took the needle and jabbed it two or three times into the bar of soap.

Where did you gain that little nugget of knowledge? Did you google-mine it off of the internet? It is something that Pam teaches in her Home Economics curriculum? Was it an RS tip of the week? Is it something that is analogous to Blythe and the regions round-a-bout? Or did you learn it from Grandma Rosie?

I had never seen this done before. She seem to be getting agitated from my inquiries, but the soap trick must have worked because the needle seemed really sharp as she thrust it at me.

It's amazing the things that can be learned from various sources. Just ask FSIL II. Last week, he learned the cause of his sty…from a very reliable source!

Shame on you

FSIL II got indoctrinated into the family way of playing board games last night with a rousing game of Balderdash.

Everything was going as usual with each of the players knowing beforehand which were cs' and FSIL's answers. (cs' replies were 15 sentences long and FSIL's had something to do with either a Mayan tool or the colonial period.) The two of them were neck to neck in a dead heat for last place.

But the coup de grâce came when a certain person (who was in the lead) got caught cheating.

The question: Who was Ruth Wakefield?

I was the monitor. The answers came in one by one. I was puzzled because one had the correct answer: The inventor of toll house (chocolate chip) cookies.

After I read the choices out loud, in unison they said that there were only 4 choices and that there should be 5. I stated that someone had gotten the answer correct.

Suddenly, Bird threw out an accusitory finger at FSIL II. You were cheating! (Never underestimate the wrath of a pregnant woman.)

He was caught with his Blackberry at his side and Betty on the couch text-messaging the answer to him after she had googled it on the internet. (Megs was supposedly not able to play because she was busy writing a paper for a homework assignment.)

He started stuttering and stammering, but Bird assured him that cheating wasn't his crime. When it comes to playing family games, it's a given that everyone will cheat to win. No, your crime was that you got caught doing it.

Bird sings

Cameraman: Brig

Two One!

Twenty-one years ago, a miracle came into our lives. A BIG birthday kiss to Bird. Happy Birthday! We are glad that you were born into our family.

Tagfessional

cs started it September 17, 2007.

Lids was next on September 19, 2007.

Lucy continued on September 20, 2007.

Dana's still thinking.

Here's my list:

1. I am an official "card carrying" member of the Arnett fan club. I became a member 34 years ago (before I met cs) when cousin Dave (no, the other cousin Dave) gave me a signed membership card in Maracaibo, Venezuela. It was my lead in line for cs when I first met her. I'm a fan club member and I've got the card to prove it. Snagged her from the getgo…she was mine, hook, line, and sinker. Thanks, cousin Dave!

After the many years of being in the wallet, the names may have faded away, but the membership is still good!

2. When I was younger, my cousin and I sluffed Primary. It was back in ancient history days when Primary was held on weekdays after school. The church building was across the street from the elementary school. There were only two wards at the time. One had Primary on Tuesdays and the other ward had Primary on Wednesdays.

One Tuesday after school, half of the kids were getting on the buses to go home and the other half were headed across the street to the church. I can’t remember who was the instigator between us, but we both decided that we were “in” and were going AWOL. As we were headed across the school grounds in the opposite direction of Primary, Edie Rasband hollers out, Hey, guys where are you going? Primary is this way. I felt the eyes of the world upon me, but we kept on going — we were 2nd grade rebels…with a cause!

We lived about a half-a-mile from the school. We got a block away and I realized that if I got home early, then my folks would wonder why I was home at that hour since it was Primary day — never-mind the fact that both of my parents were at work. Big mouth Rasband’s words had started to prick my conscience. But, we couldn’t head back to Primary because we would be walking in late and the embarrassment would be too much. If we went home, there would be nothing to do because afternoon cartoons didn’t start until later. So we spent the hour hiding in a ditch, ducking down as cars approached so that we wouldn’t be found out. Nothing was ever said. I figured I had had “my day” of rebelliousness.

Years later, I was telling the story (confession time) to my mother thinking that I had better come clean. She told me, I knew about that. Your Primary teacher called me the next day and told me that they had missed you in class. I told her not to worry. You would be in class the next week.
…and I was.

3. I gained all of my computer skills from a high school computer class, from HB…learning what not to do, and helping Bird with her college assignments.

4. I endured sitting through several MVHS modern dance concerts (and am a better man for it!)

5. I really don’t understand electricity. It’s just my job and it pays the bills. I’m really doing it because it's "shocking" and I get to use a computer.

I tag jl (both of them).

got milk?

As I related before, my grandfather had a dairy farm.…we on the other hand, had a cow. A single milk cow. We called her "Bossy" [and every milk cow we owned thereafter.]

My grandfather had the luxury of having electric milking machines. We milked ours the old fashion way…hands on. And whether you have several cows or just one, they all need to be milked twice a day — morning and night. Our cow produced 3/4 to one gallon of milk each time she was milked.

I know (if you’re like my kids) many of you think that milk comes in a carton that you get at the store. [When Bird was young I asked her that question and that was her answer.] End of story. And for some that is true. They have no clue as to where milk comes from. I, on the other hand, got my milk from the cow—no middleman was involved. Growing up there were none of those mamby-pamby multiple milk choices of 1%, 2%, skim, etc. There was only one choice at my house: 100% udderly delicious whole milk—with cream or without.

My dad was an “artist” at milking the cow. It seemed as though he could finish the job in 5 minutes flat. He used to entertain the neighbor kids by asking if they were thirsty. He’d tell them to open up their mouths, then proceed to squirt a stream of milk 15 or 20 feet at them. The neighbor kids were fascinated with the process. He would ask them if they wanted to help. He would hand them the cow’s tail and tell them to start pumping. The faster they would pump, the faster the milk would come out. Other times he would tell them if they pumped the cow’s tail then chocolate milk would come out. Never did get that one to work.

From time to time, whenever my dad was working out of town, the chore of milking the cow “fell into my hands” [no pun intended].

At age 10-11, your knee/leg muscles aren’t fully developed and it is very difficult to hold up the milk pail off of the ground between your knees as you’re concentrating on pulling at the “handles” on the udder. [hey, I’m trying to keep this a family oriented article.] First the closest ones, then the furthest, then the closest, and finish up with the furthest.

Often times, I would get tired and set the partially full bucket on the ground and try to finish up fast. A few times the cow would swish her tail and dried chunks of “foreign organic matter” would fall into the pail. I’d hurry and reach in and get it out as best as I could and figured “what you can’t see, can’t hurt you” with the rest.


When I was finished, I would take the warm fresh milk into the house and run it through a separator. It had a filter, two spigots, and a handle. You would pour the milk into a bowl at the top and as you cranked the handle (55 turns per minute) the centrifugal force would separate the milk from the cream.

Ah milk, it does a body good…and a little dried foreign organic matter from time to time didn’t hurt either.

The Moving Wall

The Vietnam Memorial Wall is in town this weekend. It travels around the country. It is a replica of the memorial that is in Washington DC. Bird got to see the real one when she went back to Washington in 2003.

I've been wanting to see it. My cousin's name — Henson Frank Walker, is on the wall — panel 22 on the West wall on line 45 — to be exact. He was killed in action on Friday, June 13, 1969 — 3 months shy of his 24th birthday.

It was at Pioneer Park in Provo. Sister Megs went down with me to see it. I didn't expect the reaction that I had when I got there. I figured, I'd go down, find his name, take a picture, and be done. I pretty much had a lump in my throat the whole time I was there, finding his name, seeing the people — some vets, some in uniform, some disfigured, some looking as hippies — all silently, almost reverently looking for someone's name and whispering amongst themselves.

They had computers set up under a tent awning. You would give the person's name you were looking for and they would print it out on this piece of paper. We tried doing a brass rubbing, but it didn't turn out. So I "photoshopped" the rubbing from DC that Bird had done. I also imposed the photo that I took of his name on the panel at the bottom of the paper.

Mom & Dad's Excellent Adventure

Smiles

Same smile…diffferent time…different place…

I've seen that smile somewhere before
I've heard your voice before
It seems like we talk like this before.
Sometime, who can be certain when?
But if I knew you then,
It's strange I can't remember
Feelings come so strong,
Like we known each other oh, so long.
The circle of our love is more
Than just a rising sun that sets,
The circle of our love, it goes forever.
The circle of our love begins
With now and every promised dream
In God's eternal plan, it goes forever.
The circle of our love extends
Beyond the reach of time
Beyond the span of days and years, it goes forever
The circle of our love begins
With now and every promised dream
In God's eternal plan, it goes forever.
The circle of our love extends
Beyond the reach of time
Beyond the span of days and years, it goes forever
The circle of our love is found
In every warm and tender thing
That lips may breathe or hearts may beat, forever.

Rocky and Me

…Balboa that is. Last night, Bird, Brig, cs, and I went to see Rocky Balboa. I enjoyed it immensely. I thought it was a great movie. Not necessarily Oscar material, but one of those feel good movies that made you want to stand up and cheer…which is what I wanted to do at one point, but cs must have sensed it too and gently put her hand on my arm to restrain me.

I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t seen each Rocky…I, II, III, IV, & V. (Brig was appalled when he learned that Bird hadn’t seen any of the Rocky movies and didn’t know who he was. Brig made her do her homework and watch I, II, & IV last week in preparation for seeing the new movie.) I did see I & II and if you liked Rocky I, then I think that you would like Rocky Balboa. It has the same feel to it.

Maybe I related too much to the character. When he was preparing to get in shape for the fight, his trainers told him, You won’t catch him with your speed. You can’t run to get in shape because the cement will pound your knees, you've got calcium deposits on most of your joints, and you’ve got arthritis in your neck.

The scene when he had a chat with his son was good also.

I think that cs liked it too…at least the parts that she watched. She spent the last bit with her hands over her eyes…peaking through every now and then.