Friends remember the darndest things

This past October I spent the month at my parents house because J was going to be traveling out of town with work and most of my family had’nt met Little Roo.

While there I visited with an old friend whom I lived with for a few months after I got my first nursing job.

This was her greeting to me.

” Karen what a surprise to see you” ( as I love to just drop in with no notice, it’s more fun that way Is’nt it?)

” Wow, I haven’t seen you for a long time. I was just thinking about you the other day and thinking about the story’s you’d come home with from the Nursing Home”.

“ Ya, what one were you referring to?”

friend,” the one about the missing shoe….”

I can not believe that I forgot this story. It is so embarrassing his begs to be told

Not long after I started working as a nurses aid, a co-worker and I were assisting with a residents bath.  We were dressing  him in the bath lift with his pants, sock and shoe on but I couldn’t find the second sock and shoe. I was looking under the towels and around the area when my co-worker asked me what I was looking for.” The other shoe,” I replied. 

Both the resident and my co-worker nearly died laughing.

” He only has one leg, Karen”

So beware this christmas when you are acquainted with old acquaintances and family. You’re friends may remember the darndest things.

The trip that still haunts me- the last part

 OK this is the last part of my story, “The flight that haunts me still” If you have not read the other two sections you can go here and than here to read them.

 After a lot of thought I chose to give Sunshine a small dose of anti nauseous medicine before I boarded the plane.   As we boarded and I was filled with anticipation to end this long day and I settled into our seat waiting for sleep to overcome Sunshine.  The whole day was an adrenalin rush and I looked forward to a few hours of undisturbed TV time.  I had no idea that during the next four hours my disturbed mind would have traded having root canal than continue on with this flight.

 Sunshine was fidgety, uncomfortable and squirming before we were even in the air, more than usual. Other passengers were already commenting, “Flying is hard for children, maybe she will sleep”.

Just when I thought  we would have three seats to ourselves, a grandpa figure took the isle seat. “I hope he likes children” I thought as he settled into his chair. I was already getting the feeling that this was going to be a squirmy ride. Sunshine has just been introduced to her great Grandpa and had been calling him “Baba”. So every man with gray hair was called “Baba”, including our new flight companion. It soon became clear that this man was by no means a child friendly “Baba”. My first clue was when he mumbled a greeting and didn’t acknowledge the growing concern in my corner. Then throughout the flight he would open his large bag of licorice and eat one or two pieces. Of course it was during any rare moment that Sunshine settle that he would choose partake of his snack.  It was as though he purposefully crinkled the package loud and forceful to announce to my toddler that he was about to have another piece of candy, and of course, he didn’t share. This continued for the entire four hour flight.   

When the plane took off the power of the plane pulled Sunshine’s body into mine; her screams of protest could be heard above the thunder of the plane and I got an idea.

“Oh ya, I came prepared” I thought to myself with a little smirk. I waited until I could lunge myself forward and reached for the baggie of dry cereal.

 ”Got it”, “pull” and…. You’ve got to be kidding!!! The bag was upside down and the handy-dandy zip-lock, un-locked!! I kid you not, dry cereal went flying all around me, it was everywhere!! “Baba” did not flinch, did not look, and was not amused.  I was not amused; most of my quiet-bribing snack had fallen into the nooks and crannies of the seat. I grabbed a barf bag to collect what I could; if bad came to worse I would have to give it to her anyway, fortunately there was a small amount remaining in the bag. Sunshine was now crying and squealing for water.

“Very good, because this momma was thinking and brought a convenient rubber made water bottle” I said to myself (And yes, when I need some moral support I really do talk to myself like this don’t you?)

So I pulled out the rubber made container, you know the one with the flip up spout. I flipped up the spout and who would have guessed, this trip was quickly becoming a scene that I would expect in a movie, like “Family Vacation” or something.   When I flipped up the spout, water  came spewing up like Old Faithful, my goodness it was a geyser and it wouldn’t stop because I had already handed it to Sunshine. I grabbed it back from her and closed the lid. (Note to self: unscrew the top first because the cabin pressure causes disturbing scientific consequences)  She was sitting on my lap so now we were both wet and the seat that separated us from “Baba” was wet too.   He was thanking his lucky stars that a seat separated us from him.  I grabbed another barf bag and pulled out all the napkins that I could find from my bag and began mopping up the mess. (At least it was water). We were a mess I’m telling you, dry cereal, stuck to all the wet parts of our cloths.

The rest of the tripe was holding Sunshine as she spun, twirled, threw fits, in my arms, on the spare seat and on the floor. Anytime she was quiet and beginning to settle, that’s right…. rustle, rustle, rustle went the licorice bag and I would be at it all over again working to settle her. So note to self and anyone else who happened to get directed to this story.

1. Anti-nauseous medicine may not calm your child but rather act as a stimulant. Who would have guessed? (Well my sister, that’s who, and she forgot this little bit of information when I was discussing the merits of giving it to Sunshine in the first place.

2. Rubber-made water bottles need to be de-pressurized by unscrewing the lid before flipping up the spout.

3. If I had been able to think clearly for a minuet I would have talked to the stewardess about offering “Baba” a different seat and both of us would have been more comfortable.

4 repeat to your self, over and over again, “This too shall pass. This too shall pass”. Eventually you will either believe it or the moment will pass…. I said eventually.

4. Plan, Pack and Pray flying is a means to an end like labour

So with that all said, “Have a good flight”.

I have since come up with a few ideas that help with flying with children which I posted yesterday as well  several comments were made by others addeding their suggestions.

It’s Family Day- Thanks’ Conservatives

  Thanks to our Conservative government we are celebrating a new statutory holiday in Canada, but there’s a catch. It is not mandatory for employer’s to give it as a paid holiday. This means that some businesses may be open and others will be closed.  Ironically, government employee’s don’t get the holiday because their contracts they have 12 stat holiday’s for the year and they are already spoken for. So it is family day, François is at work and I am making bread and calling the neighbor’s  for crushed pineapples b/c the grocery store is closed.  Can you believe it of all the day’s to run out of pineapple the store is closed what is this world coming too?

I told Sunshine to put her clothes on 5 times for each article of clothing before we finally got out the door. Then my first clue that the grocery store was closed was the empty parking lot, (I’m a quick one, aren’t I?) However, there’s no way I was going home after the fiasco that I just went through to get out the door. So we headed over to Mc Donald’s with the children’s play land. Every time I go there, an elderly man is wandering around talking to the patrons. He is harmless, he is lonely, and he wants to be needed. I watched him this morning as he “helped” the staff by being quick to inform them of spilled coffee, open a display case and straighten the “caution wet floor” sign. He is hunched over with his head bent to his chest. He shuffles his feet as he walks, and he likes strollers. That’s really all I know about him. He tells me each time I meet him about the stroller he bought for his relative and how he noticed that mine seats two children. I see him walking towards me this morning, as I expected, and braced myself for the same conversation about strollers. I hope he will find another person who interests him and I will not be caught in another boring and uncomfortable conversation for long.  I actually wonder to myself, “should he be allowed to loiter here?”  I’m in luck today the stroller conversation is short but I quickly realize and groan that it is my children that have captured his attention.   I watch and quickly become fascinated because soon he is laughing and playing peek-a-boo with them; my girls hide in the tunnel of the play center and soon peek out when they come down the slide. He is delighted, he is accepted, he is wanted, and he is needed.  My children are disappointed when he puts his coat on and shuffles away.  And I realize again that my children have taught me about acceptance, being needed and love.

The trip that still haunts me, part 2

  To catch up on this story go here.

(“It was 5:40pm. The air port was congested, “Oh, dear God, please get us a parking space at the entrance!” We both prayed. “Dad, there’s a spot” but wait, “this can’t be happening” I thought, someone was vying for the same spot!  My mind flashed to all the movies I watched with this same scene. I needed the space desperately; I had to have this space!”)  

I released the seat belt from my growing baby belly, and left the car  hollering back to dad,” We WILL get that spot just you watch”, “It’s o.k, Karen” he said. As luck would have it there was a luggage cart a few feet away I grabbed it and ran to the center of the parking spot. Then I stood there trying to look nonchalant while the other car clearly noticed that the space was taken. “Sorry”, I thought a little sheepishly, “I really need this”. We got it!! Now to the ticket counter, my heart was beating fast with adrenalin. I buckled Sunshine into my stroller, grabbed the bags while dad unbuckled the car seat. We were off running, but the stupid wheels on the umbrella stroller kept jamming up because it is the WORST stroller on earth. I had no choice but to tip Sunshine backward as we ran the short distance to the terminal. Once inside we realized we didn’t know what direction we should be heading. Dad went on ahead while I looked for some one to get directions. “Crap”, we had to take an elevator Dad was quit away down the hall. I literally yelled at the top of my voice, “DAD…DAD” (he’s hard of hearing but he would never believe you), “We have to go upstairs!”  We made nervous chatter with the other patrons of the elevator who let us exit first when we told them our story.

Finally, I could see, “WEST JET”, there was no one waiting in line, not a soul. “This can not be good” I thought. We slowed our breathing as we headed to the counter, I had 20 min to get our boarding pass, go through security WITH a toddler, and hike down the terminal to the gate BY MYSELF. The ticket-counter-lady, (What is their title?) was not in any hurry when she asked the routine questions. Then she said, “Are you aware that the flight has been delayed by two hours?” “Are you serious? You’re serious! We made it!” Adrenalin and relief catching up with us as we both wiped away a tear of relief. (I wiped more than a tear but who’s counting) The ticket-counter-lady noticed our relief and suggested that dad take a pass to help me get to the departure gate.

 All was well, we enjoyed an airport dinner, dad entertained Sunshine with his made up games while I prepared for the last part of the trip. Sunshine has slept a lot during the afternoon while dad and I toured the industrial section of the Big City. I had her fed, changed, and in her night cloths for the flight home. It was my dream; as it is with every mother flying with a child, that she would sleep. I also had a little special potion in my bag to help this dream become a reality. Do I or don’t I?  Do I or Don’t I? The day has been a challenging enough, but will she sleep without it?  What if she doesn’t?  I did, I gave her the potion. Did the potion work as planned?

                          ………………….(To be continued)………………

Let’s eat cake!

  When I began blogging two months ago I wondered, who will read my rambling thoughts? I am not computer savvy, my spelling is a work of art and grammar? Well, lets just say I see the phrase, “fragmented sentence, may want to revise” in my sleep. But, I want to be a better writer, I want to develop computer skills, and I want to share my stories, projects, recipe’s and organizing tips that I have developed or found. So I started a blog. It has been lot of fun especially when I get comments and watching the  visits to the blog  slowly creep upwards. So when I noticed that my blog was getting close to a 1000 visits I decided to make a cake for my family when it reached the mark. And it did, late last week Karyn for you reached a 1000 visitors and I made this cake. Hmm, it was yummy.

Which turned out better than, this cake, which was made a few weeks ago during a snow day.

 Not to self choose an appropriate size pan.

But both of these cakes were a smashing success compared to the cake that could have burned my dad’s house down…

It was a Sunday afternoon. And during every Sunday afternoon my parents had a nap. This Sunday was a beautiful spring day, dad had just repaired all the bikes the day before and it was the perfect day for biking around our town (population 300). I invited the pastor’s daughter Meme, after church to come for lunch and visit for the afternoon. I convinced mom to let us bake a cake. I was about 12 or so and had been baking cakes by myself for a while now, so mom let Meme and I bake it while she and dad had their afternoon nap.  

I remember bopping around the kitchen chatting away, telling stories and discussing the important things of the day with Meme, like hand-me-down-bags, our bikes and various other topics of great importance. Then it came to adding the flour and milk alternately. This was always an important step because  the flour had to be added first and last or the texture of the cake would be either light and edible or I would, defy the law of gravity;  heavy as lead but won’t go down. I remember thinking this step through at this point, I promise.  

While the cake was baking, Meme and I decided to go out side to wait. Then we began playing on our bikes. Then we began riding around the block. Then we rode down the road to the hydro dam. THEN with heart stopping reality I remembered… I remembered I had a cake in the oven. THEN I rode with all my might back home praying, ” Oh, God please let me get there before the cake is burned” Then I heard the fire alarm a block from home, could see all the doors and window’s open  and smell  the smoke, and it was then I know I was in BIG trouble!! I came sheepishly into the kitchen while Meme played in the yard.

Mom asked,” Did you put everything in the cake Karen?”

 ”Yes”

“Everything? Think about it…. Could you have forgotten to put the last cup of flour in it?”

There on the counter was the cup of flour.

Who would have guessed that without the last cup of flour the baking soda would bubble and fizz with all the other ingredients and make a lava mess all over the oven?  Not me, that’s for sure. But I didn’t have to guess either, why I wasn’t allowed to bake with my friends anymore either.

What is your memorable story of a meal or baking that did not turn out?