One Gigantic Freaking Hole
It's gotten to the point where I'm a little bit scared to come home after work - seems like everyday brings a new surprise as they continue to destroy and then rebuild the kitchen area in our house, and yesterday was no exception. The plumber was planning on digging up a small section of the floor so he could reroute some pipes that weren't fitting into the wall the way they should - which wasn't supposed to be a big deal, except that as he was jack-hammering away at the floor to create a small hole, he noticed that the cement was falling into the hole and disappearing. So he stopped and took a closer look, and lo and behold, what to his wondering eyes should appear, but a gigantic freaking hole underneath our house. So when I got home and asked how things were going, I was invited to poke my head into the hole in the floor, and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a gigantic freaking hole under our house. And I do mean gigantic. This hole is, no exaggeration, large enough for me to fit in, and Katie to fit in, and Connor and Carrie to fit in - all at the same time, and there would probably be some room left over. And that's just the part we can see - we won't know for sure how large it is until we open up the floor in order to take a better look. So I guess we'll need to fill in the hole before it swallows up the entire house (although that would probably make the local news and could earn me my ten minutes of fame) which will involve tearing out a sizable portion of floor, filling in the hole with dirt and concrete, and rebuilding the torn out floor. Connor, on the other hand, thinks we should keep it the way it is - I guess he's a big fan of caves in general, and having his own personal cave might be some kind of weird status symbol in his mind. Plus, for some reason, he thinks Hitler is buried under our house now, and that we'll be famous for that (I guess we probably would be famous if Hitler was actually buried down there, but I have my doubts). Meanwhile, word has apparently gotten out in the construction-crew world, because we've had a whole bunch of guys who have stopped by to take a look at the gigantic freaking hole under our house, and every single one of them has scratched his head and said, "I've never seen anything like that before." But other than having a gigantic freaking hole under our house and a missing kitchen, everything is going swimmingly. And all of this started with getting a new dishwasher.
On the other hand…
In the spirit of the holiday season we're now in the midst of, I'm thankful for many things in my life, including the fact that I even have a home to give me so many headaches - and a job - and a mostly healthy family. So everytime I start to feel like the Gods are conspiring against us, I remind myself that this might be a hassle, but it could be ever so much more worse than it is.
Ultra Update
I officially started my training for the 50-miler this week, with a Saturday 16-miler followed by a Sunday 18-miler that included a few miles on trails. Saturday was surprisingly easy, but Sunday was a bit of a challenge as my legs were definitely feeling the distance towards the end. And now that I'm looking at my mileage, I think I'm might be hitting the 2010-mile mark even earlier than I was planning - maybe even by the end of this week.
That's all I can think of for now, so we'll cut it a little short this week and end by hoping that your turkeys remain stuffed, that your cream remains whooped, and your potatoes are mashed to perfection.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Moonshots, Endings, Demolition, Drummer Boys, and an Ultra
2010 in 2010
One of the somewhat obsessive-compulsive things I do (at least, it’s obsessive-compulsive according to my lovely bride, Katie – I think doing stuff like this is completely normal) is to keep track of how many miles I cover each month running, cycling, and swimming. I started doing this about 6 years ago, with the idea that I’d like to travel “around the world” by covering 25,000 miles – which I did last year. So I decided my next step would be to travel to the moon. “How far is it to the moon?” many of you (minus any rocket scientists out there) might wonder. Well, to answer your question, I went to the internet and found the following: “Since the moon's orbit is elliptical (oval-shaped), its distance varies from about 221,463 miles at perigee (closest approach to Earth) to 251,968 miles at apogee (farthest point). The average distance from the moon to the Earth is 238,857.” So there you go. I figure I’ll shoot for the average distance, which is just a little less than 240,000 miles, which means, when you take the average distance I’ve been covering in a year and divide it into the average distance from the moon, I’m not going to make it any time soon (like, it will take me another 47 or so years, give or take, which would mean I’d be around 93 when I finally make it to the moon… so maybe I should just keep traveling around the Earth?). Anyway, all of this got me thinking about a goal for this year, and I had the idea that I’d like to run 2,000 miles in a year. I’ve done 1,000 miles several times, and made it 1,500 in 2009, so it seemed like it might be possible if I was able to stay healthy for the entire year. So far, that’s worked out, and I surpassed the 1,800 mile mark at the end of October and just went by the 1,900 mark last week, so barring any unforeseen and undesired disasters, I’m thinking I’m going to make it in the next couple of weeks. And then I got to thinking that it would be pretty cool to make it to 2010 (since the year is 2010 – get it – 2010 in 2010?) so that’s what I’m shooting for now, and I’d really love it if I was able to time it so I hit that mile mark during the Tucson marathon. I’m afraid I’m probably going to pass it sooner than that, but we’ll have to wait and see.
The rest of the story
If you read last week’s posting, you might remember a section about Connor’s socials studies teacher. This week, she quit.
Demo Day
Our kitchen is now officially gone. They came, they demolished, and they hauled it all away, leaving us with a very large and very empty space. To add to the fun, we found out that the insulation between our ceiling and roof is “R-5” which, for those of you in the know when it comes to all things dealing with insulation, is really, really thin and really, really inefficient, and helps explain why our heating/cooling costs are – wait for it – through the roof. So now we’re tearing out the entire ceiling in the kitchen and living room area so they can add some thicker, heftier, manlier insulation – plus we’ll add some light fixtures which are badly needed in the living room, so that should be nice. Once again, remember, this all started with a new dishwasher.
Did I Miss Thanksgiving?
Is it just me, or does it seem like the holiday season (I would say, “Christmas,” but in the interest of being politically correct, I’ll stick with the more generic term for politically correct reasons) arrives earlier every year. Back when I was a kid, we didn’t start the holiday season until the week before the actual holiday day, but nowadays, the holiday season seems to start as soon as they’re able to mark down the Halloween candy that didn’t get purchased. So I walked into the supermarket last weekend, and what to my wondering ears should appear, but holiday music being piped in on their system, and I have to say, it just felt wrong. I considered taking some kind of stand or making some kind of protest (not sure exactly what this might have looked like, but I imagine it might have involved storming the office where the music/P.A. system controls are kept, announcing that holiday music was not allowed in public places until at least the beginning of December and cranking up some classic Led Zeppelin to get us back in the November groove). But instead, I did nothing. Just continued pushing my cart up and down the aisles, trying to block out the sound of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” which was completely unsuccessful, because that stupid song was stuck in my head for the rest of the day, and now that I’ve typed the title, that stupid song is stuck in my head again, and now it’s probably stuck in your head as well. Sorry about that.
When a Marathon Just Isn’t Enough
Apparently, there’s something wrong with me (some people might say that’s a great example of an understatement). First I ran a couple of half-marathons. Then I ran a couple of marathons. Then I upped the ante by running a marathon in Estes Park, at an elevation of around 7,500 feet. Then I ran Mt. Lemmon, which they billed as the “World’s toughest road marathon” because it climbed around 6,000 feet. Well, apparently that wasn’t enough, because I just signed up for the “Old Pueblo Fifty Mile Endurance Run” after being shamed into it by someone who shall remain nameless to protect their shamefulness (actually, this nameless person didn’t shame me at all – they offered free lodging for Katie and me during the event weekend, which just goes to show how far I’m willing to go – apparently 50 miles - for free lodging, or a t-shirt, or a medal, or, in this case, a belt buckle, which is what you get if/when you finish an “ultra”). Needless to say, my weekend mornings are pretty much booked for the next few months.
That’s all for this edition, so until next time, may your moons remain full and unfettered, may your insulation remain thick and insulatilicious, and may your supermarket remain a Santa-free zone (at least until December).
One of the somewhat obsessive-compulsive things I do (at least, it’s obsessive-compulsive according to my lovely bride, Katie – I think doing stuff like this is completely normal) is to keep track of how many miles I cover each month running, cycling, and swimming. I started doing this about 6 years ago, with the idea that I’d like to travel “around the world” by covering 25,000 miles – which I did last year. So I decided my next step would be to travel to the moon. “How far is it to the moon?” many of you (minus any rocket scientists out there) might wonder. Well, to answer your question, I went to the internet and found the following: “Since the moon's orbit is elliptical (oval-shaped), its distance varies from about 221,463 miles at perigee (closest approach to Earth) to 251,968 miles at apogee (farthest point). The average distance from the moon to the Earth is 238,857.” So there you go. I figure I’ll shoot for the average distance, which is just a little less than 240,000 miles, which means, when you take the average distance I’ve been covering in a year and divide it into the average distance from the moon, I’m not going to make it any time soon (like, it will take me another 47 or so years, give or take, which would mean I’d be around 93 when I finally make it to the moon… so maybe I should just keep traveling around the Earth?). Anyway, all of this got me thinking about a goal for this year, and I had the idea that I’d like to run 2,000 miles in a year. I’ve done 1,000 miles several times, and made it 1,500 in 2009, so it seemed like it might be possible if I was able to stay healthy for the entire year. So far, that’s worked out, and I surpassed the 1,800 mile mark at the end of October and just went by the 1,900 mark last week, so barring any unforeseen and undesired disasters, I’m thinking I’m going to make it in the next couple of weeks. And then I got to thinking that it would be pretty cool to make it to 2010 (since the year is 2010 – get it – 2010 in 2010?) so that’s what I’m shooting for now, and I’d really love it if I was able to time it so I hit that mile mark during the Tucson marathon. I’m afraid I’m probably going to pass it sooner than that, but we’ll have to wait and see.
The rest of the story
If you read last week’s posting, you might remember a section about Connor’s socials studies teacher. This week, she quit.
Demo Day
Our kitchen is now officially gone. They came, they demolished, and they hauled it all away, leaving us with a very large and very empty space. To add to the fun, we found out that the insulation between our ceiling and roof is “R-5” which, for those of you in the know when it comes to all things dealing with insulation, is really, really thin and really, really inefficient, and helps explain why our heating/cooling costs are – wait for it – through the roof. So now we’re tearing out the entire ceiling in the kitchen and living room area so they can add some thicker, heftier, manlier insulation – plus we’ll add some light fixtures which are badly needed in the living room, so that should be nice. Once again, remember, this all started with a new dishwasher.
Did I Miss Thanksgiving?
Is it just me, or does it seem like the holiday season (I would say, “Christmas,” but in the interest of being politically correct, I’ll stick with the more generic term for politically correct reasons) arrives earlier every year. Back when I was a kid, we didn’t start the holiday season until the week before the actual holiday day, but nowadays, the holiday season seems to start as soon as they’re able to mark down the Halloween candy that didn’t get purchased. So I walked into the supermarket last weekend, and what to my wondering ears should appear, but holiday music being piped in on their system, and I have to say, it just felt wrong. I considered taking some kind of stand or making some kind of protest (not sure exactly what this might have looked like, but I imagine it might have involved storming the office where the music/P.A. system controls are kept, announcing that holiday music was not allowed in public places until at least the beginning of December and cranking up some classic Led Zeppelin to get us back in the November groove). But instead, I did nothing. Just continued pushing my cart up and down the aisles, trying to block out the sound of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” which was completely unsuccessful, because that stupid song was stuck in my head for the rest of the day, and now that I’ve typed the title, that stupid song is stuck in my head again, and now it’s probably stuck in your head as well. Sorry about that.
When a Marathon Just Isn’t Enough
Apparently, there’s something wrong with me (some people might say that’s a great example of an understatement). First I ran a couple of half-marathons. Then I ran a couple of marathons. Then I upped the ante by running a marathon in Estes Park, at an elevation of around 7,500 feet. Then I ran Mt. Lemmon, which they billed as the “World’s toughest road marathon” because it climbed around 6,000 feet. Well, apparently that wasn’t enough, because I just signed up for the “Old Pueblo Fifty Mile Endurance Run” after being shamed into it by someone who shall remain nameless to protect their shamefulness (actually, this nameless person didn’t shame me at all – they offered free lodging for Katie and me during the event weekend, which just goes to show how far I’m willing to go – apparently 50 miles - for free lodging, or a t-shirt, or a medal, or, in this case, a belt buckle, which is what you get if/when you finish an “ultra”). Needless to say, my weekend mornings are pretty much booked for the next few months.
That’s all for this edition, so until next time, may your moons remain full and unfettered, may your insulation remain thick and insulatilicious, and may your supermarket remain a Santa-free zone (at least until December).
Friday, November 12, 2010
Social Studies, Chaos, and Too Many Options
Mr. Negativity Meets His Soul-Mate
Social studies this year has been an ongoing saga for our young son, Connor, who is in 7th grade at a school that shall remain nameless in order to protect the innocent. First off, his original social studies teacher was reassigned to a different role right at the beginning of the year, so they had to go searching for a part-time person to replace him, which – as you may or may not be aware – isn’t the easiest thing to do. So they had a series of subs that led to a long-term sub for the first couple of months of school. This, as you might imagine, isn’t ideal because there’s not a whole lot of continuity when the subs are switching off, plus the class tends to take advantage of situations like this, and the whole thing was kind of chaotic. Then, finally, they managed to find someone to take the job. Unfortunately, this has turned out to be even more of an issue than what existed before. Now if you know Connor, or have heard us tell tales about him, you might be aware that he isn’t exactly the world’s most positive person. So when he came home and started talking about how negative his new social studies teacher was, I have to admit that a part of me was thrilled by this. My son had actually met someone that he considered to be negative – how great is that? For the past few weeks, he has continued to come home with all kinds of stories about the crazy things his social studies teacher has said or done. Here are just a few examples:
•She’s mad that she doesn’t have her own classroom, so she had the kids write letters to the principal complaining about it and requesting that she be given another teacher’s extra room (yes, there is a teacher there who has two rooms).
•She’s mad at the kids and how they behave during class, so she’s making tapes of them that she’s planning on sharing with parents (not sure when/how that’s going to happen, but I’m looking forward to hearing more)
•She’s mad at the entire school and everyone who works there, so she’s writing a book to expose the whole sordid mess, and she’s going to sell copies to parents and make a whole bunch of money (no, I’m not planning on purchasing a copy – though I would love to take a look at it for free).
So it’s all kind of crazy (side note: this is someone who apparently won some kind of award for being a great teacher before she came here) but I have to admit that I’m not all that up-in-arms about the whole fiasco, because even though Connor isn’t learning anything related to the official social studies “curriculum” I actually think he’s learning more in this situation then he’s ever learned before. And he has some mildly amusing stories to tell.
Let the Destruction Begin
As mentioned earlier, we bought a new dishwasher several weeks ago, which led to the discovery that we had a leak under our sink, which led to the discovery that we had some mold growing in the walls and cabinets, which led to us calling the insurance company, which led to us deciding to just go ahead and redo the entire kitchen. So now we’re starting to stick our toes in the pool of renovation. The mold is now gone, but so is half of the kitchen, including the sink, stove, dishwasher, and half the cabinets/counter. Yesterday, we finalized our layout plan, and we’ve now ordered new cabinets and counters, figured out gas lines for a new stove, made a plan for the electricity that will include lots of outlets and new lighting, and made the first of several alarmingly large payments. Next step will be to destroy the rest of the kitchen (as well as the ceiling in the adjoining room so Katie can finally be rid of the dreaded “popcorn”), and then start putting all the lines and wires and pipes where they need to go. And it’s all because of a dishwasher. I’m pretty sure there’s a lesson to be learned in here somewhere – though I’m just not exactly sure what it is – something about new dishwashers, or checking under your sink, or something like that. All I really know for sure is that I really, really miss having a kitchen sink (which is now sitting in the entry hall) – and it’s going to be awhile before we have one again.
More on the Kitchen
Most people would probably agree that having choices is a good thing, but after visiting the kitchen showroom and going through the whole decision-making process with this kitchen project, there’s also a part of me that feels completely overwhelmed by all the choices we had to make about colors, styles, moldings, backsplashes, trims, hardware, drawer pulls, fixtures, voltage, wattage, amperage, 60/40 or 50/50, left or right, single or double, rack or shelf, single or double-barrel trash pullout, how to handle the soffit (up until about a week ago, I didn’t even know what a soffit was let alone that we had not one, but two of them in our kitchen), what kind of lighting, where to put fixtures and switches, dimmers, popcorn or plain, directional or fixed, check or credit card, itemized or complete, 2 cm or 3 cm, melamine or ply, and on and on and on. It’s almost as bad as going to the store and trying to buy some toothpaste (sometimes, I just stand in the toothpaste aisle for several minutes, my mind a complete blank and my heart sinking as I scan all the different types of toothpaste).
That’s all for this edition, so until next time, may your lessons be learned, may your kitchen remain dry, and may your choices remain clear and unfettered.
Social studies this year has been an ongoing saga for our young son, Connor, who is in 7th grade at a school that shall remain nameless in order to protect the innocent. First off, his original social studies teacher was reassigned to a different role right at the beginning of the year, so they had to go searching for a part-time person to replace him, which – as you may or may not be aware – isn’t the easiest thing to do. So they had a series of subs that led to a long-term sub for the first couple of months of school. This, as you might imagine, isn’t ideal because there’s not a whole lot of continuity when the subs are switching off, plus the class tends to take advantage of situations like this, and the whole thing was kind of chaotic. Then, finally, they managed to find someone to take the job. Unfortunately, this has turned out to be even more of an issue than what existed before. Now if you know Connor, or have heard us tell tales about him, you might be aware that he isn’t exactly the world’s most positive person. So when he came home and started talking about how negative his new social studies teacher was, I have to admit that a part of me was thrilled by this. My son had actually met someone that he considered to be negative – how great is that? For the past few weeks, he has continued to come home with all kinds of stories about the crazy things his social studies teacher has said or done. Here are just a few examples:
•She’s mad that she doesn’t have her own classroom, so she had the kids write letters to the principal complaining about it and requesting that she be given another teacher’s extra room (yes, there is a teacher there who has two rooms).
•She’s mad at the kids and how they behave during class, so she’s making tapes of them that she’s planning on sharing with parents (not sure when/how that’s going to happen, but I’m looking forward to hearing more)
•She’s mad at the entire school and everyone who works there, so she’s writing a book to expose the whole sordid mess, and she’s going to sell copies to parents and make a whole bunch of money (no, I’m not planning on purchasing a copy – though I would love to take a look at it for free).
So it’s all kind of crazy (side note: this is someone who apparently won some kind of award for being a great teacher before she came here) but I have to admit that I’m not all that up-in-arms about the whole fiasco, because even though Connor isn’t learning anything related to the official social studies “curriculum” I actually think he’s learning more in this situation then he’s ever learned before. And he has some mildly amusing stories to tell.
Let the Destruction Begin
As mentioned earlier, we bought a new dishwasher several weeks ago, which led to the discovery that we had a leak under our sink, which led to the discovery that we had some mold growing in the walls and cabinets, which led to us calling the insurance company, which led to us deciding to just go ahead and redo the entire kitchen. So now we’re starting to stick our toes in the pool of renovation. The mold is now gone, but so is half of the kitchen, including the sink, stove, dishwasher, and half the cabinets/counter. Yesterday, we finalized our layout plan, and we’ve now ordered new cabinets and counters, figured out gas lines for a new stove, made a plan for the electricity that will include lots of outlets and new lighting, and made the first of several alarmingly large payments. Next step will be to destroy the rest of the kitchen (as well as the ceiling in the adjoining room so Katie can finally be rid of the dreaded “popcorn”), and then start putting all the lines and wires and pipes where they need to go. And it’s all because of a dishwasher. I’m pretty sure there’s a lesson to be learned in here somewhere – though I’m just not exactly sure what it is – something about new dishwashers, or checking under your sink, or something like that. All I really know for sure is that I really, really miss having a kitchen sink (which is now sitting in the entry hall) – and it’s going to be awhile before we have one again.
More on the Kitchen
Most people would probably agree that having choices is a good thing, but after visiting the kitchen showroom and going through the whole decision-making process with this kitchen project, there’s also a part of me that feels completely overwhelmed by all the choices we had to make about colors, styles, moldings, backsplashes, trims, hardware, drawer pulls, fixtures, voltage, wattage, amperage, 60/40 or 50/50, left or right, single or double, rack or shelf, single or double-barrel trash pullout, how to handle the soffit (up until about a week ago, I didn’t even know what a soffit was let alone that we had not one, but two of them in our kitchen), what kind of lighting, where to put fixtures and switches, dimmers, popcorn or plain, directional or fixed, check or credit card, itemized or complete, 2 cm or 3 cm, melamine or ply, and on and on and on. It’s almost as bad as going to the store and trying to buy some toothpaste (sometimes, I just stand in the toothpaste aisle for several minutes, my mind a complete blank and my heart sinking as I scan all the different types of toothpaste).
That’s all for this edition, so until next time, may your lessons be learned, may your kitchen remain dry, and may your choices remain clear and unfettered.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Mutants, Mold, and a Cookie Wrap-up
Teenage Mutant Ninja Pumpkin
Every Halloween for as long as I can remember, we’ve bought one or more pumpkins, cut them open and scooped out the “guts,” carved various designs or faces in them, then put them outside with a candle lighting them up for all to see. I know this whole thing probably sounds kind of weird, and I don’t know exactly why we do this or how the whole thing got started, but we do it without really thinking about it. Over the years, we’ve had several “strange” or “unusual” pumpkins. Not because of their appearance, but because of something we discovered after bringing them home and starting the whole “cutting open, scooping out, carving designs” process. We’ve had the gross and gicky pumpkin that was so positively pungent no one wanted to stick their hand inside (guess who got to take care of that one) and we’ve had the really dry, almost empty pumpkin that was actually pretty easy to deal with because there wasn’t much to deal with. Then there was the year that Katie brought home an indestructible pumpkin. When I took the knife to it, I wasn’t able to pierce the skin. So I pressed harder. Still nothing. So I got a bigger, sharper knife, but I still couldn’t cut into it. I even tried various chisels and saws and other implements (though I never broke out the blowtorch) but that danged pumpkin just wouldn’t be cut into. So that one wound up getting set outside without any kind of work being done on it. This year, though, we had the strangest pumpkin of all. First of all, it was pretty big (Katie let Connor pick out the biggest one he could find), but the strange thing was when I cut it open and started scooping it out, I discovered… attached to the lid I’d just removed… are you ready for this… a pumpkin plant that was growing inside the pumpkin! Needless to say, I was taken aback, and I immediately exclaimed, “This freaky mutant pumpkin has a pumpkin growing inside it.” I mean, that’s like if a person was growing inside another person. Can you imagine such a thing? Anyway, Katie wasn’t particularly impressed (maybe because she’s actually had people growing inside her) but Carrie and Connor both thought it was pretty cool, especially when we found about six other little pumpkin plants growing inside the pumpkin.
Let the Games Begin
Our kitchen is now officially “under construction,” the first step being the eradication of any and all mold lingering in the walls as a result of our leaky pipe under our sink. So they came out and tore out one side of the kitchen, including the sink, the cabinets, the counter, etc. and did whatever it is they do to get rid of the bad stuff, and when I got home, it looked like that scene from E.T., the Extra-Terrestrial when the military guys put up the plastic tent and freak Elliot and E.T. out by acting all paranoid about infectious alien diseases, because the kitchen is completely wrapped up in plastic, and there’s some kind of really loud device whooshing away inside the wrapping (don’t know what it is, but I’m assuming it’s some kind of mold-killer – apparently mold doesn’t like really loud whooshing sounds - neither does Connor - hmm.). So we’ve got dishes scattered hither and yon, a dishwasher and range wrapped up in plastic and stored in our entryway, a bunch of food stacked on the one remaining counter, all of which adds up to a pretty big mess and the realization of how much you miss you’re kitchen sink when it’s taken away from you. There’s no telling how long this whole thing is going to stretch out, but I’m guessing it’s going to be right around 6 weeks before we get things back to normal and have the whole project done. And so it begins.
Cookie Update
So if you read last week’s entry, you might remember the whole Halloween cookie fiasco. Well, it actually got worse. I brought my cookies to school and set them out for the luncheon, and when I swung by about ten minutes later, I saw that someone else had gone to the store and bought – can you see this one coming – several dozen pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies. And these ones had orange and green sugar on them, so they looked like real pumpkins. Needless to say, only a couple of my cookies got eaten, and I’m pretty sure those were eaten out of pity by the kind of people who buy the most pitiful looking Christmas tree on the lot because they feel sorry for it. So I wound up taking the majority of the cookies back home, which was actually okay, because they were welcomed back with open arms by my wife and children.
That’s all for this edition, so until next time, may your pumpkins remain on the vine, may your mold remain mildew-free, and may your cookies remain crispy (unless you like them chewy).
Every Halloween for as long as I can remember, we’ve bought one or more pumpkins, cut them open and scooped out the “guts,” carved various designs or faces in them, then put them outside with a candle lighting them up for all to see. I know this whole thing probably sounds kind of weird, and I don’t know exactly why we do this or how the whole thing got started, but we do it without really thinking about it. Over the years, we’ve had several “strange” or “unusual” pumpkins. Not because of their appearance, but because of something we discovered after bringing them home and starting the whole “cutting open, scooping out, carving designs” process. We’ve had the gross and gicky pumpkin that was so positively pungent no one wanted to stick their hand inside (guess who got to take care of that one) and we’ve had the really dry, almost empty pumpkin that was actually pretty easy to deal with because there wasn’t much to deal with. Then there was the year that Katie brought home an indestructible pumpkin. When I took the knife to it, I wasn’t able to pierce the skin. So I pressed harder. Still nothing. So I got a bigger, sharper knife, but I still couldn’t cut into it. I even tried various chisels and saws and other implements (though I never broke out the blowtorch) but that danged pumpkin just wouldn’t be cut into. So that one wound up getting set outside without any kind of work being done on it. This year, though, we had the strangest pumpkin of all. First of all, it was pretty big (Katie let Connor pick out the biggest one he could find), but the strange thing was when I cut it open and started scooping it out, I discovered… attached to the lid I’d just removed… are you ready for this… a pumpkin plant that was growing inside the pumpkin! Needless to say, I was taken aback, and I immediately exclaimed, “This freaky mutant pumpkin has a pumpkin growing inside it.” I mean, that’s like if a person was growing inside another person. Can you imagine such a thing? Anyway, Katie wasn’t particularly impressed (maybe because she’s actually had people growing inside her) but Carrie and Connor both thought it was pretty cool, especially when we found about six other little pumpkin plants growing inside the pumpkin.
Let the Games Begin
Our kitchen is now officially “under construction,” the first step being the eradication of any and all mold lingering in the walls as a result of our leaky pipe under our sink. So they came out and tore out one side of the kitchen, including the sink, the cabinets, the counter, etc. and did whatever it is they do to get rid of the bad stuff, and when I got home, it looked like that scene from E.T., the Extra-Terrestrial when the military guys put up the plastic tent and freak Elliot and E.T. out by acting all paranoid about infectious alien diseases, because the kitchen is completely wrapped up in plastic, and there’s some kind of really loud device whooshing away inside the wrapping (don’t know what it is, but I’m assuming it’s some kind of mold-killer – apparently mold doesn’t like really loud whooshing sounds - neither does Connor - hmm.). So we’ve got dishes scattered hither and yon, a dishwasher and range wrapped up in plastic and stored in our entryway, a bunch of food stacked on the one remaining counter, all of which adds up to a pretty big mess and the realization of how much you miss you’re kitchen sink when it’s taken away from you. There’s no telling how long this whole thing is going to stretch out, but I’m guessing it’s going to be right around 6 weeks before we get things back to normal and have the whole project done. And so it begins.
Cookie Update
So if you read last week’s entry, you might remember the whole Halloween cookie fiasco. Well, it actually got worse. I brought my cookies to school and set them out for the luncheon, and when I swung by about ten minutes later, I saw that someone else had gone to the store and bought – can you see this one coming – several dozen pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies. And these ones had orange and green sugar on them, so they looked like real pumpkins. Needless to say, only a couple of my cookies got eaten, and I’m pretty sure those were eaten out of pity by the kind of people who buy the most pitiful looking Christmas tree on the lot because they feel sorry for it. So I wound up taking the majority of the cookies back home, which was actually okay, because they were welcomed back with open arms by my wife and children.
That’s all for this edition, so until next time, may your pumpkins remain on the vine, may your mold remain mildew-free, and may your cookies remain crispy (unless you like them chewy).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)