Warning: This is a long and emotional post. Read at your own risk.
Today is my mom's birthday. Happy Birthday, Mom! I won't embarrass her by telling you her age. We'll just say that she's old enough to have me and three more older than I am... Plus all the younger ones. Sunday will be Father's Day so it seemed fitting that I write a blog about my parents.
A little over two years ago I was living alone in AZ and contemplating moving back to UT. At that time one of my favorite bands came out with a new album and a song called "When We Die" was on it. The first time I heard it, I cried and it can still bring me to tears. (Seriously, watch the whole video, though. It's so worth the tears and the rest of this blog will still be here when you return from blowing your nose.) My parents and I didn't have the worst relationship, but it was far from the best. Both of my parents have always been great about helping when I needed to move and the like but I had never been particularly close to either of them. My mom and I had fought a lot when I was living at home and even after I moved out there were days that I'd leave their house in a not-great mood. After hearing this song, I decided it was time for me to make an effort to get to know my parents- particularly my mom.
Obviously, I decided to move back to UT and after Branden and I settled into a house and I settled into a regular work schedule I started the process of getting to know my mom. My mom and I were both normally off of work on Mondays so it became a tradition that I make the hour-long drive to Ogden every week. There were a few times that I was snowed-in or was stuck having to work and a couple times I had car trouble, including the Monday that I hit a deer. But other than those few times, we've spent every Monday together for the last almost-two years... And it's worked.
Most of those Mondays we've been joined by Katie and little Joshie. Together we three women have enjoyed many a game of Rummikub and Skip-Bo and even more talks about life, children, relationships, books, movies and anything else that came up. I've learned of times that my mother stood up for me and I didn't know it, times that my mother cried, times that my parents fought- almost never in front of us- things that my mother decided to let go rather than fight about, things that my mother has been willing to endure for the good of her family and, though I technically always knew it, I've learned that my mother loves me A LOT. I was often spoiled on Mondays. And I was also often hugged.
When Branden lost his job, it was my mom who let me lose it for a little while and then helped me pull myself back together because she's been there. The help she'd given me in the past made it easier for me to bear losing my own job. When I just felt like I couldn't handle things anymore, it was my mom who helped me realize how much I could handle and what I could change because she's been there, as well. For twenty-five years I hardly knew this amazing woman and maybe I will never fully know her because I am her daughter, not her confidant, but I feel that I at least understand her so much better. The pieces of our relationship that were broken on the floor have been scooped up and formed into something new. It doesn't look like the relationship that might have been, but it's a beautiful thing nonetheless and I'm proud that we've created it together.
As for my dad, we were doing a little better than my mom and I were doing. Mostly what I needed to do was communicate with him as an adult. Listen to what he had to say, laugh with him, let him tell me his stories- even if I'd heard them many times before- and just show my appreciation for him. We don't have a relationship based on deep talks, but we do talk and I do listen. Mostly, though, I make sure I hug him. I love to hug my dad... It's not that I don't like to hug anyone else, but hugs from my dad are special. My mom once told me that they were not a very physically affectionate family before I came along. I am, apparently, one of the more physically affectionate people in my family. When I moved back, my dad told me that they missed my hugs almost as much as they missed me. So I never miss a chance to hug my parents. My dad is alone a lot while truck driving and I know he gets lonely. So I talk to him every time he calls and every time I have a minute and think to call him I make sure I do. But even more than that, I make sure that I ALWAYS hug him when I see him. My mom needs hugs but I think he may need them just a little bit more.
Now that I have taken the time to build something with my parents, it's going to be harder than ever to move away. I won't lie, I'm crying right now as I type this. We have phones and internet- my mom even signed up for a FaceBook account so we can all stay better connected- but it won't be the same. I will MISS seeing them every week. I will MISS hugging them. I will MISS... Them. I have to stop now because it's getting hard to see the screen. I just have one thing left to say: I love you, Mom and Dad and I'm so glad we had these last two years to get to know one another better.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Reinvention
Three or four years ago I came back in contact with an acquaintance I'd had in high school. Through some crazy coincidence, I met and began dating one of his friends and, while over at another of their friend's houses, I heard over and over that I needed to meet "Taylor." Apparently he was very funny and just great to have around. I was there when Taylor walked into the room and was surprised to see that he was the very same Taylor I had met- and not been fond of- back in high school. Everything that had been said of him made me think that maybe he was different than he was back then and I decided to give him another chance... Turns out he was marginally improved but still not someone whose exclusive company I felt the need to keep.
During one of the parties I attended, the talk turned to how Taylor and I had gone to high school together and some of the things that had happened. He was a year below me but, since I'd moved to UT my junior year, I'd never had a semester at Bonneville in which he wasn't present somewhere in the background. Both of us auditioned for every production our school presented. While he never got a leading role, he was cast in most everything in which I was also cast. (Let me clarify that I didn't often get leading roles but I did manage to have lines most of the time.) I think I saw 90% of his auditions in those two years and I know that I saw him cry at least once when he wasn't cast for the part for which he auditioned. This is why it was a HUGE surprise to me to hear that he "Never wanted to be in a play. He just wanted to be a tech guy and our teacher MADE him audition." I was THERE! I SAW how badly he wanted everything and I knew that if he'd wanted to do tech there were both opportunities and people who took those opportunities and never auditioned for anything. He wasn't a tech guy forced to be on stage! He was a passable actor who desperately wanted to be more.
But for some reason I never said any of those things. I just left it alone. Looking back now, I can see why I didn't bother to say anything: These were his "new" friends. None of them knew anything about his past other than what he told them and if he wanted to tell it like it wasn't, was that such a big deal? Did it matter if his version was slightly off from what really happened? It wasn't hurting anyone and it certainly made him feel better. In a way, it's a bit of a Sour Grapes way of looking back- "I never wanted those parts, anyway. Acting was too much work, I just wanted to do the background stuff but was forced into something else."- but maybe it was part of his own reinvention of himself.
I am not now, nor was I then, the same girl I was in high school. I don't expect that anyone else should be forced to stagnate, either. I haven't talked to Taylor in over two years now. I'm sure he has gone on changing as well. In a way, I wish him luck. Not because we ever made it to being friends, but just because I am about to move and will, inevitably, be reinventing myself as I meet new people.
Don't we all reinvent ourselves? Don't we strive change the things about ourselves that we don't like? And only tell the stories we want people to hear? Choose to hold hurts away from the light and not admit they exist? I'm not talking about outright lying or holding grudges. I'm talking about wishing we'd been something or someone else- that we'd done something differently or said something else instead of the words that left our mouths- and so we leave out the parts we don't like when we tell stories to someone new. It doesn't mean that we were different people. It just means that we appear to have been different then. Maybe it is a form of lying, but I don't know one person who would admit to every hurt they've caused, every mistake they've made, every embarrassment they've felt and every thing they might change if given a second chance. To others, we are who we present ourselves to be.
During one of the parties I attended, the talk turned to how Taylor and I had gone to high school together and some of the things that had happened. He was a year below me but, since I'd moved to UT my junior year, I'd never had a semester at Bonneville in which he wasn't present somewhere in the background. Both of us auditioned for every production our school presented. While he never got a leading role, he was cast in most everything in which I was also cast. (Let me clarify that I didn't often get leading roles but I did manage to have lines most of the time.) I think I saw 90% of his auditions in those two years and I know that I saw him cry at least once when he wasn't cast for the part for which he auditioned. This is why it was a HUGE surprise to me to hear that he "Never wanted to be in a play. He just wanted to be a tech guy and our teacher MADE him audition." I was THERE! I SAW how badly he wanted everything and I knew that if he'd wanted to do tech there were both opportunities and people who took those opportunities and never auditioned for anything. He wasn't a tech guy forced to be on stage! He was a passable actor who desperately wanted to be more.
But for some reason I never said any of those things. I just left it alone. Looking back now, I can see why I didn't bother to say anything: These were his "new" friends. None of them knew anything about his past other than what he told them and if he wanted to tell it like it wasn't, was that such a big deal? Did it matter if his version was slightly off from what really happened? It wasn't hurting anyone and it certainly made him feel better. In a way, it's a bit of a Sour Grapes way of looking back- "I never wanted those parts, anyway. Acting was too much work, I just wanted to do the background stuff but was forced into something else."- but maybe it was part of his own reinvention of himself.
I am not now, nor was I then, the same girl I was in high school. I don't expect that anyone else should be forced to stagnate, either. I haven't talked to Taylor in over two years now. I'm sure he has gone on changing as well. In a way, I wish him luck. Not because we ever made it to being friends, but just because I am about to move and will, inevitably, be reinventing myself as I meet new people.
Don't we all reinvent ourselves? Don't we strive change the things about ourselves that we don't like? And only tell the stories we want people to hear? Choose to hold hurts away from the light and not admit they exist? I'm not talking about outright lying or holding grudges. I'm talking about wishing we'd been something or someone else- that we'd done something differently or said something else instead of the words that left our mouths- and so we leave out the parts we don't like when we tell stories to someone new. It doesn't mean that we were different people. It just means that we appear to have been different then. Maybe it is a form of lying, but I don't know one person who would admit to every hurt they've caused, every mistake they've made, every embarrassment they've felt and every thing they might change if given a second chance. To others, we are who we present ourselves to be.
Packing With My Sister
My sweet younger sister Katie came all the way out to my house today to help me pack. Oh, I needed help so badly and she was great about just getting right to it. I was overwhelmed and lost in the enormity of everything and she just knew what to do. She helped me organize pretty much every room and gave me the courage I needed to give up some things that I was holding onto for no reason. She even helped me gather up and throw away garbage AND killed a hornet to save me from a potential sting and allergic reaction! I am so grateful for her willingness to help, but even more than that, I'm so grateful for one more day spent with her and her adorable son.
I will miss Katie SO much... More than I can express... More than I wish to admit to myself for fear that I will break down. She has been there for me over and over. She is supportive of me even when I choose a different path than the one she would have chosen. She provides love and hugs every time we're together.
We've had ups and downs. There have been times that we didn't get along AT ALL. Not just when she was little- though I certainly made sure that we didn't get along then- but also a couple of times when we were older. Still, she's my sister and somehow there's no fight big enough to make me want to give up on that relationship. And now she's not my best friend because being a best friend isn't the same as being a great sister... It took years for me to figure that out. She's as close to being a best friend as a sister can be and at the same time she's so much more BECAUSE she's my sister. I love her and I will be forever in need of her. I hope she knows both of those things.
I will miss Katie SO much... More than I can express... More than I wish to admit to myself for fear that I will break down. She has been there for me over and over. She is supportive of me even when I choose a different path than the one she would have chosen. She provides love and hugs every time we're together.
We've had ups and downs. There have been times that we didn't get along AT ALL. Not just when she was little- though I certainly made sure that we didn't get along then- but also a couple of times when we were older. Still, she's my sister and somehow there's no fight big enough to make me want to give up on that relationship. And now she's not my best friend because being a best friend isn't the same as being a great sister... It took years for me to figure that out. She's as close to being a best friend as a sister can be and at the same time she's so much more BECAUSE she's my sister. I love her and I will be forever in need of her. I hope she knows both of those things.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Rick'n'Abby's Wedding Cake (Part 5, The Pictoral Version)
All the ponds Rick'n'Abby made for their cake.
This is the waterfall we didn't end up using. It's beautiful but it didn't work the way we wanted with the water pressure.
This is the bottom pond. Rick put their initials in it but, with the way the pond was turned, they were hard to see.
Our winning waterfall.
Just starting to carve out the fall.
Carved, filled and iced. We're ready for the waterfall.
Top layer
Bottom layer with pond the night before the wedding.
Stacked up and ready with the waterfall in place.
Green coloring in place.
Bottom layer with the green on it.
Plants and pillars added
Final product
Can you spot the turtles Rick made?
The table all decorated.
This is the waterfall we didn't end up using. It's beautiful but it didn't work the way we wanted with the water pressure.
This is the bottom pond. Rick put their initials in it but, with the way the pond was turned, they were hard to see.
Our winning waterfall.
Just starting to carve out the fall.
Carved, filled and iced. We're ready for the waterfall.
Top layer
Bottom layer with pond the night before the wedding.
Stacked up and ready with the waterfall in place.
Green coloring in place.
Bottom layer with the green on it.
Plants and pillars added
Final product
Can you spot the turtles Rick made?
The table all decorated.
Rick'n'Abby's Wedding Cake (Part 4)
I figure I should finish the saga of the wedding cake and get some pics on here since it's been more than a week since the wedding.
I pulled myself out of bed at 4:55 AM on Friday. Despite my efforts to get lots of sleep, I actually got next-to no sleep. Every time one of the cats started messing with something, every time Branden moved, every time I had a dream that was even slightly off from happy I woke up... And stayed awake for at least 10 minutes each time. We were supposed to leave here by 6 AM so there was no reason to stay in bed any longer even if I had been able to sleep. After a quick shower I started loading the car and pestering Branden to get out of bed at the same time. Let's just say that Branden wouldn't believe me that Rick would be on time to my parents' house and therefore refused to get out of bed and into the shower until 5:40. Branden takes long showers. By the time he was ready to go it was 6:20 and I had everything packed into the car except the frozen cake.
Keep in mind that there's a drain tube sticking out of the bottom of the layer I iced on Thursday. While I was able to place the two layers that were not yet stacked or iced on a full sheet pan on the back seat, I could not set the bottom layer down on the seat without it being at an angle and, therefore, not stable for transportation. So guess who got to hold it while I drove? Yep, Branden. He spent the entire hour-long drive from our house to my parents' house with a 20 lb block of frozen cake and icing on his lap. (I'm not exaggerating the weight. If anything, I'm under-estimating it.) Sitting in the driver's seat, I could feel the waves of cold air coming off the cake and I can only imagine how cold it was for him. He was NOT happy with me when I was driving slowly through the construction in Weber Canyon, but I was glad I hadn't sped up when the truck in front of me hit his breaks and I had plenty of time to slow down without the cake ending up in his face or smeared on my dashboard.
We arrived safely at my parents' house to find that Rick had been waiting for us since 7. I TOLD Branden he wouldn't be late! We got everything inside and went straight to work. First we tested and picked which of the two waterfalls we were going to use. Then I set Rick to work trimming cake boards while I quickly filled and iced the 4" top layer. About that time I realized that I hadn't seen Branden in a while. He was out in the yard cutting roses with my mom. :) While Rick and I worked on the cake, Branden ran errands and helped my parents out in the yard. What a great guy.
My mom went to McDonald's and got everyone breakfast. I'm not normally a big fan of McD, but their breakfast is ok and I was HUNGRY. Afterward, I leveled the 10" layer and Rick got to work carving it up for the waterfall. While I filled and iced the now-waterfall-ready middle layer, Rick got the pump all set up. Together we got the waterfall into the cake and it was time for the decorating to begin! I couldn't believe how well everything was going.
Oh, there were minor mishaps and we actually ended up having to sort of prop the top layer up a little in the back, but all-in-all things were great and I was working with one of the most creative problem-solvers I've ever known. We got the layers stacked and figured out the exact method we wanted to use to add color around the ponds. I know he thinks that he was stressing me out with his questions and concerns, but honestly it was great to have him there. Don't get me wrong: 99.99% of the time you DO NOT want any member of the bridal party or family members there while you're making the cake. They don't need to see the mistakes and small crises that arise while decorating. But Rick... He's got an eye for detail but when I say no he accepts it. Plus, he's Rick. We have many years' experience working together- he even helped me make Katie's wedding cake- and when there's a creative catastrophe, well, there's noone I'd rather have on my side during those times than him.
So together we finished his wedding cake. The most amazing thing was that we were done sometime around noon. Mom made sandwiches, but I think he was already asleep on the couch before we ate. He really needed the sleep. The whole time we were working he'd go from excited to stressed. The stress had nothing to do with doubt and everything to do with his fear that they were forgetting something. So we let him rest a little then sent him on his way to get ready. I admit that this is the boring part. I took a nap, as well. Branden ran errands with my dad... I really appreciate that Branden will spend time with and talk to my dad and I know that it makes my dad feel good as well.
Around 4 PM, we changed clothing and packed everyone and everything that had to get to the wedding into two cars. James rode with us and kept an eye on the stacked top and middle layers while Branden, once again, held the bottom layer on his lap. Once again we arrived with no mishaps and got the cakes out of the car and over to the picnic pavilion which housed the food for the reception. We spent some time debating when and exactly where we were going to be setting up the cake. A table was procured and we began setting things up just as Abby arrived. I was a witness so it was decided that we'd finish this later... And that's when Branden stuck his hand in the side of the cake. No child stuck his chubby little finger into the cake while it was sitting on the picnic table, no small mouths tasted the frosting prematurely... All that time and all that driving with no problems and Branden managed to stick his hand in the side of the bottom layer as he was setting it on the base. And there was nothing I could do about it until after the ceremony.
The ceremony was very nice. I cried a little. When it was over, my little brother was a husband. :) I signed the marriage license and hurried back over to fix the cake. I wasn't thrilled with the fix on the side, but most people didn't notice that anything had happened. We got everything set up and running and I was finally able to relax and enjoy myself. Unfortunately, since I had a cold and hadn't had a lot of sleep, as soon as the stress was over I was pretty close to wiped out. I still had a good time and I know Rick and Abby were happy with everything. Branden and I spent the drive home talking about what we would do differently if I were to ever do this cake again. You'll see in the pictures that this one turned out just fine, but there are a few things that could make this easier to handle IF I were to attempt this again.
I'm just glad that everything turned out well. We went to bed at 11:30 PM and I slept for 12 hours... Sleep I desperately needed.
I pulled myself out of bed at 4:55 AM on Friday. Despite my efforts to get lots of sleep, I actually got next-to no sleep. Every time one of the cats started messing with something, every time Branden moved, every time I had a dream that was even slightly off from happy I woke up... And stayed awake for at least 10 minutes each time. We were supposed to leave here by 6 AM so there was no reason to stay in bed any longer even if I had been able to sleep. After a quick shower I started loading the car and pestering Branden to get out of bed at the same time. Let's just say that Branden wouldn't believe me that Rick would be on time to my parents' house and therefore refused to get out of bed and into the shower until 5:40. Branden takes long showers. By the time he was ready to go it was 6:20 and I had everything packed into the car except the frozen cake.
Keep in mind that there's a drain tube sticking out of the bottom of the layer I iced on Thursday. While I was able to place the two layers that were not yet stacked or iced on a full sheet pan on the back seat, I could not set the bottom layer down on the seat without it being at an angle and, therefore, not stable for transportation. So guess who got to hold it while I drove? Yep, Branden. He spent the entire hour-long drive from our house to my parents' house with a 20 lb block of frozen cake and icing on his lap. (I'm not exaggerating the weight. If anything, I'm under-estimating it.) Sitting in the driver's seat, I could feel the waves of cold air coming off the cake and I can only imagine how cold it was for him. He was NOT happy with me when I was driving slowly through the construction in Weber Canyon, but I was glad I hadn't sped up when the truck in front of me hit his breaks and I had plenty of time to slow down without the cake ending up in his face or smeared on my dashboard.
We arrived safely at my parents' house to find that Rick had been waiting for us since 7. I TOLD Branden he wouldn't be late! We got everything inside and went straight to work. First we tested and picked which of the two waterfalls we were going to use. Then I set Rick to work trimming cake boards while I quickly filled and iced the 4" top layer. About that time I realized that I hadn't seen Branden in a while. He was out in the yard cutting roses with my mom. :) While Rick and I worked on the cake, Branden ran errands and helped my parents out in the yard. What a great guy.
My mom went to McDonald's and got everyone breakfast. I'm not normally a big fan of McD, but their breakfast is ok and I was HUNGRY. Afterward, I leveled the 10" layer and Rick got to work carving it up for the waterfall. While I filled and iced the now-waterfall-ready middle layer, Rick got the pump all set up. Together we got the waterfall into the cake and it was time for the decorating to begin! I couldn't believe how well everything was going.
Oh, there were minor mishaps and we actually ended up having to sort of prop the top layer up a little in the back, but all-in-all things were great and I was working with one of the most creative problem-solvers I've ever known. We got the layers stacked and figured out the exact method we wanted to use to add color around the ponds. I know he thinks that he was stressing me out with his questions and concerns, but honestly it was great to have him there. Don't get me wrong: 99.99% of the time you DO NOT want any member of the bridal party or family members there while you're making the cake. They don't need to see the mistakes and small crises that arise while decorating. But Rick... He's got an eye for detail but when I say no he accepts it. Plus, he's Rick. We have many years' experience working together- he even helped me make Katie's wedding cake- and when there's a creative catastrophe, well, there's noone I'd rather have on my side during those times than him.
So together we finished his wedding cake. The most amazing thing was that we were done sometime around noon. Mom made sandwiches, but I think he was already asleep on the couch before we ate. He really needed the sleep. The whole time we were working he'd go from excited to stressed. The stress had nothing to do with doubt and everything to do with his fear that they were forgetting something. So we let him rest a little then sent him on his way to get ready. I admit that this is the boring part. I took a nap, as well. Branden ran errands with my dad... I really appreciate that Branden will spend time with and talk to my dad and I know that it makes my dad feel good as well.
Around 4 PM, we changed clothing and packed everyone and everything that had to get to the wedding into two cars. James rode with us and kept an eye on the stacked top and middle layers while Branden, once again, held the bottom layer on his lap. Once again we arrived with no mishaps and got the cakes out of the car and over to the picnic pavilion which housed the food for the reception. We spent some time debating when and exactly where we were going to be setting up the cake. A table was procured and we began setting things up just as Abby arrived. I was a witness so it was decided that we'd finish this later... And that's when Branden stuck his hand in the side of the cake. No child stuck his chubby little finger into the cake while it was sitting on the picnic table, no small mouths tasted the frosting prematurely... All that time and all that driving with no problems and Branden managed to stick his hand in the side of the bottom layer as he was setting it on the base. And there was nothing I could do about it until after the ceremony.
The ceremony was very nice. I cried a little. When it was over, my little brother was a husband. :) I signed the marriage license and hurried back over to fix the cake. I wasn't thrilled with the fix on the side, but most people didn't notice that anything had happened. We got everything set up and running and I was finally able to relax and enjoy myself. Unfortunately, since I had a cold and hadn't had a lot of sleep, as soon as the stress was over I was pretty close to wiped out. I still had a good time and I know Rick and Abby were happy with everything. Branden and I spent the drive home talking about what we would do differently if I were to ever do this cake again. You'll see in the pictures that this one turned out just fine, but there are a few things that could make this easier to handle IF I were to attempt this again.
I'm just glad that everything turned out well. We went to bed at 11:30 PM and I slept for 12 hours... Sleep I desperately needed.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Just A Few Moving Tears
There are times in my life when I am a crier. Moves tend to be one of those times. The bigger the move, the more I cry. I cried when I moved to AZ and I cried when I decided to move back to UT from AZ. I've cried on little moves, as well. Even small moves across town brought a certain amount of tears if for nothing more than the stress of moving. This time I've been surprisingly stoic... Until today.
The moving stress, the lack-of-job stress and the worry-about-money stress have all caught up to me. Today I ended up crying on the phone with Katie and Chantelle. No details are necessary. I was overwhelmed and I was/am scared. So I cried... A lot. And I'm still a bit on the verge of crying when I think about everything. I'm going to be ok later. Just not right now. Right now I need love and cuddling... And assistance with packing, etc.
The moving stress, the lack-of-job stress and the worry-about-money stress have all caught up to me. Today I ended up crying on the phone with Katie and Chantelle. No details are necessary. I was overwhelmed and I was/am scared. So I cried... A lot. And I'm still a bit on the verge of crying when I think about everything. I'm going to be ok later. Just not right now. Right now I need love and cuddling... And assistance with packing, etc.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
One Week Later We're Still Without An Oven
Our oven is still broken. I didn't realize how many meals I make that require the oven. I am starting to crave things like baked chicken, pizza, meat pie, roasted potatoes... And cookies. Oddly enough, I didn't crave cookies when I could have cookies but now that I can't have fresh, homemade cookies I desperately want them.
Our landlords have offered us the use of their oven if we need it. I wouldn't classify cravings as having a need for their oven so of course I'm not going to ask for it. Actually, while it's a nice offer it's totally impractical and I have a feeling they are aware I won't be coming over. I mean, really, what am I going to do? Go over there to make our dinner and then bring it back to our house? And spend an hour or more trying to have a conversation with people who are nice but, in all actuality, are not my friends? No thanks.
And so we're waiting. There's a good chance that tomorrow the part will come in and it'll get fixed. Maybe it'll even be fixed in time for dinner. That would be nice. If not... Maybe it'll be fixed on Friday? It'd better not be as late as Saturday. As pathetic as it sounds, we're kinda running out if dinner ideas.
Our landlords have offered us the use of their oven if we need it. I wouldn't classify cravings as having a need for their oven so of course I'm not going to ask for it. Actually, while it's a nice offer it's totally impractical and I have a feeling they are aware I won't be coming over. I mean, really, what am I going to do? Go over there to make our dinner and then bring it back to our house? And spend an hour or more trying to have a conversation with people who are nice but, in all actuality, are not my friends? No thanks.
And so we're waiting. There's a good chance that tomorrow the part will come in and it'll get fixed. Maybe it'll even be fixed in time for dinner. That would be nice. If not... Maybe it'll be fixed on Friday? It'd better not be as late as Saturday. As pathetic as it sounds, we're kinda running out if dinner ideas.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Corporal Punishment
Branden just read me piece of an article about corporal punishment in Europe. It seems that in much of Europe it is illegal in both schools and homes. Other parts of Europe it is illegal in schools only but in the Czech Republic it isn't illegal anywhere. Yep. I told him that when we lived in Oklahoma the schools practiced corporal punishment. For me, it was a VERY good deterrent. I wasn't a trouble maker, but the thought of swats certainly helped me continue to stay out of trouble. For some kids, it was nothing and didn't make any difference at all. Honestly, most of the kids who got punished really seemed to deserve it!
At first he didn't believe me. Then he said that it HAD to be illegal now. "No, I don't think so. I mean, maybe it's been banned in the last ten years but it seems unlikely."
"There's no WAY they're still allowed to hit kids! You mean the teachers could just walk up and smack you and noone has had a problem with this?"
"Oh, no. You had to go out into the hall, bend over, grab your ankles and then the teacher paddled your butt with a wooden paddle. They called it 'getting swats' and you generally got three swats at a time. I never had it happen to me but I knew plenty of kids who did."
I proceeded to tell him stories about kids who received swats at the hand of the tennis-playing science teacher and from our seven-foot tall principal, Mr. Flood. I told him about my friend's mom who signed up to be a substitute teacher and was given a paddle and a piece of carpet on which to practice. I giggled my way through the stories because, as before stated, I never did anything that warranted going out in the hall like that. I was an angel... Or at least angelic enough to only ever get papers with 3, 6 or 9 pages and the VERY rare time spent in detention.
He couldn't believe that this could have happened only a decade ago. So he looked it up. As it turns out, 21 out if 50 states still allow corporal punishment in schools. Most of them are Southern and Missouri is one of them. I'm not at all surprised! Ohio is the only one that legally requires the schools to listen when parents tell them not to use corporal punishment.
Branden said that if a teacher had ever given him swats he would have punched him/her. I told him that his actions could legally be called assault as the teacher did, in fact, have a legal right to give him the punishment. Let's just say, that didn't go over well. Now he thinks that we will have a sit-down with the principal and tell them not to hit our kid or there will be problems. I said maybe we should just teach our kid to not act out in class! I'm not terribly worried when it comes down to it. Just because they are ALLOWED to spank a child, doesn't mean that every school district in those 21 states practices corporal punishment.
Mostly, I'm amused that so many people think that we no longer practice corporal punishment in the US and that they are shocked by my stories. For all our advancement in science, etc., we are not as civilized as we like to think.
At first he didn't believe me. Then he said that it HAD to be illegal now. "No, I don't think so. I mean, maybe it's been banned in the last ten years but it seems unlikely."
"There's no WAY they're still allowed to hit kids! You mean the teachers could just walk up and smack you and noone has had a problem with this?"
"Oh, no. You had to go out into the hall, bend over, grab your ankles and then the teacher paddled your butt with a wooden paddle. They called it 'getting swats' and you generally got three swats at a time. I never had it happen to me but I knew plenty of kids who did."
I proceeded to tell him stories about kids who received swats at the hand of the tennis-playing science teacher and from our seven-foot tall principal, Mr. Flood. I told him about my friend's mom who signed up to be a substitute teacher and was given a paddle and a piece of carpet on which to practice. I giggled my way through the stories because, as before stated, I never did anything that warranted going out in the hall like that. I was an angel... Or at least angelic enough to only ever get papers with 3, 6 or 9 pages and the VERY rare time spent in detention.
He couldn't believe that this could have happened only a decade ago. So he looked it up. As it turns out, 21 out if 50 states still allow corporal punishment in schools. Most of them are Southern and Missouri is one of them. I'm not at all surprised! Ohio is the only one that legally requires the schools to listen when parents tell them not to use corporal punishment.
Branden said that if a teacher had ever given him swats he would have punched him/her. I told him that his actions could legally be called assault as the teacher did, in fact, have a legal right to give him the punishment. Let's just say, that didn't go over well. Now he thinks that we will have a sit-down with the principal and tell them not to hit our kid or there will be problems. I said maybe we should just teach our kid to not act out in class! I'm not terribly worried when it comes down to it. Just because they are ALLOWED to spank a child, doesn't mean that every school district in those 21 states practices corporal punishment.
Mostly, I'm amused that so many people think that we no longer practice corporal punishment in the US and that they are shocked by my stories. For all our advancement in science, etc., we are not as civilized as we like to think.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Rick'n'Abby's Wedding Cake (Part 3)
Thursday morning I was up far earlier than I wished to be even though it was no earlier than usual... If that makes any sense. My fitful sleeping had done nothing to ease the cold that was coming whether I liked it or not. Exhausted as I was, there were too many things to do to spend the day in bed. I knew that my landlord would be coming in the next few days and I figured that I really should clean out the oven before such time as he went poking around in it. That and there was a wedding cake to get going and I had decided to skip out on making buttercream in favor of sleep the night before.
Off to the store I went once again. I picked up a scrubby sponge, Easy-Off Heavy Duty and a pair of "long" rubber cleaning gloves. I realize that lots of people clean their ovens on a regular basis... I am not one of these people. In fact, I had NEVER cleaned this oven even though we have lived here for almost 18 months. I thought I was pretty good about not dripping things into the bottom, etc. What I didn't realize was the amount of grease and other gunky stuff that builds up with regular oven use. Who knew? Probably everyone reading this! Since the oven couldn't heat, I chose the no heat cleaning method which left me waiting for 20 minutes while the oven "soaked." Hmm... Set the timer and that's a twenty minute nap! You bet your butt I took advantage of that! After my short drift in Sleepyland I wiped everything down and was amazed at how much better it looked. That's when I noticed that I'd forgotten to spray the inside of the oven door. Hmm, again... Another nap? Well, I had to be thorough so I sprayed everything down again- this time remembering the door- and took another twenty minute rest on the couch.
After the oven was done, I tackled the icing. Eight pounds of powdered sugar, two and a half pounds of butter and more shortening than I want to admit later, I had a very large bowl full of delicious American Buttercream. Now to dye it. Rick'n'Abby had requested that their cake be iced with off-white or ivory-ish icing. No problem! Done that plenty of times. They had chosen "warm brown" food coloring to be used on their cake and it didn't seem like there was any reason that one or two drops of that shouldn't make a nice slightly-off-from-white color. So I pulled it out, took off the seal and carefully dropped two drops on top of the mound of buttercream. Thank the powers that be that I didn't add even a little more because I began to mix and... The buttercream turned a light pinky-orange! WHAT?! Horrible, horrible! I didn't have eight more pounds of powdered sugar! I didn't have two and a half pounds of butter! Breathebreathebreathe, thinkthinkthink... Okay, I decided to wash my hands and dig out a bowl scraper. There was BOUND to be more white icing at the bottom of this bowl and when I mixed that in the color would lighten and be closer to what I wanted. I scraped all the sides, I scraped the bottom, I folded the icing and mixed 'til the color was as even as I could make it... And it was still pink-ish! Next thought: Florescent lights! My kitchen is lit by a strange florescent light that makes the yellow walls look green-ish. Maybe if I took the buttercream out into NATURAL light it would be a different color. So I headed outside with my icing-covered hands to see what I could see. Yeeeeeesss, it was a liiiittle bit less pink and almost an ok color. I was going to make this work!
With that, I decided it was time for the bottom layer of the cake. Out from the chest freezer came the two 14x14x3" layers of chocolate cake. I allowed them to defrost just a bit while I trimmed the cake board to the correct size and cut the drain hole in the center. The tops of the cakes were trimmed off with ease. Off came the papers from the bottom and with some minor leveling I was ready for the real challenge: the carving out of the pond. So far things were great. Then I realized something that I SHOULD have seen WAY back when Rick asked me about the placement of the pond's drain... It was in the wrong spot! The only way I could make this work would be if I turned the heart-shaped pond so it looked more like a bean than a heart! THIS was NOT the plan! And right then it hit me that I was in WAY over my head. So I did what any sane person would do when they realized that they actually were not sane: I called up Katie and had a complete nervous freak-out over the phone.
Ok, maybe not everyone would call KATIE but she's a great sister and it was a better plan than calling the groom and having a freak-out which would most definitely get to the bride. Katie was really great about just listening to me for the whole thing. As the tears subsided and my breathing returned to near-normal, I bit my lip and made the first cuts. I carved out that pond while on the phone with Katie and I made a couple other decisions with her support. The first decision being that I needed to re-freeze the cake if I had any chance of getting the top layer off and the cake filled without reducing things to crumbs. Once I was calm and the cake back in the freezer, I let Katie get on with life. Things were good again. I could do this. I would MAKE this work. So what if the pond wasn't facing the right direction? So what if the icing was just the tiniest bit pink? This was all going to work! :) That's when my landlord showed up with absolutely NO warning.
Two things you should know: 1)We have two cats and our landlords don't know. 2) I haven't fully cleaned the house since the BEFORE Jason's wedding cake. Oh, yeah, I'd picked up garbage, dishes and socks and done a minimal amount of laundry just so we wouldn't be naked and would have towels. AND I'd scooped the litter box as well. BUT the house was a WRECK! There were boxes everywhere, dirty laundry in baskets in the kitchen, chunks of chocolate cake piled on a sheet pan on the stove-top next to the huge bowl of icing, dirty bowls from icing creation filling the sink and spread across our one and only counter, crumbs on the floor, various cake tools and my tool box on the table and floor respectively... And two cats who are normally hidden well away (along with bowls, etc.) before the landlords show up. If he had called, I would have told him to give me at least 30 minutes before he came.
As it was, I had to crack the door open a little and literally BEG him to wait on the porch while I cleaned up the kitchen just a bit, PLEASE?! As soon as he caved I shut the door grabbed my cat, looked about wildly for Branden's cat and, upon not finding her, PRAYED that she'd be her typical self and STAY HIDDEN. Dropping my cat in the bedroom and shutting the door on the unmade bed and the overflowing laundry basket, I reached over and shut the bathroom door as well with the hope that no cat had used the litter box recently enough for any smell to be obvious. I grabbed the cat bowls, stacked the laundry baskets, tossed all of that into the laundry room, shoved some half-packed kitchen boxes in there as well and closed the door, looked around the kitchen... And gave up. I let my landlord in and explained that I was in the middle of my younger brother's wedding cake so please excuse the mess that was still there. He was pretty cool about things. This was ok. And then his WIFE walked in the back door and through the laundry room with NO warning. I just about died on the spot. The mess I was trying to hide- complete with cat bowls- was now out there for all to see AND she'd walked through it. Oh, to have this over with quickly! Could I get a bolt of lightning or something? Maybe just spontaneously combust? And then they wanted to linger a bit and talk about my brother's cake and our move. He also discovered that the heating unit in the oven had to be taken out with tools which he hadn't brought so he'd have to leave and come back. And all this time there's a cat on the loose SOMEWHERE in our house. They finally left, her for the evening and him for just a few minutes. I FLEW through the house, found the cat and shut her in the room with moments to spare before his return.
Since I was, after all, making the cake I decided that this would be a good time to get it back out and be really obviously busy so he would leave faster this second time. It worked. After stepping over and around him multiple times trying to fill and ice a large cake in a pathetically small kitchen, he got the hint and left quickly. I finished the base icing in peace and was feeling a little more relaxed when I realized that there was no way I could hold up the cake, hold up the pond AND thread the drain tube through the drain hole without help. So I once again placed the cake in the freezer and decided, as I was obviously still sick, I needed to rest until Branden got home.
I was on the couch with a book when he arrived and I very quickly got him to help me fasten the cake board to the wooden base we were using and get the pond in place. I had another minor freak-out when some of the icing cracked and the cake around the front of the pond bowed out but I recovered much more quickly this time and inserted skewers into the bowing cake to help hold it in place. That done, I decided that all decorating could wait until I was decorating the other layers and placed it once more in the freezer so it would survive the one-hour trip from my house to my mom's house. I spent the rest of the evening washing/gathering necessary tools and assembling all supplies needed. I did manage to make dinner, though we went to bed pretty much as soon as we finished eating it. We were going to need to leave our house by 6 AM in order to meet Rick at my mom's house at 7 AM and, especially since I was sick, I was going to need all the sleep I could get. Unfortunately, I didn't get it... But that's a story for Part 4. :)
Off to the store I went once again. I picked up a scrubby sponge, Easy-Off Heavy Duty and a pair of "long" rubber cleaning gloves. I realize that lots of people clean their ovens on a regular basis... I am not one of these people. In fact, I had NEVER cleaned this oven even though we have lived here for almost 18 months. I thought I was pretty good about not dripping things into the bottom, etc. What I didn't realize was the amount of grease and other gunky stuff that builds up with regular oven use. Who knew? Probably everyone reading this! Since the oven couldn't heat, I chose the no heat cleaning method which left me waiting for 20 minutes while the oven "soaked." Hmm... Set the timer and that's a twenty minute nap! You bet your butt I took advantage of that! After my short drift in Sleepyland I wiped everything down and was amazed at how much better it looked. That's when I noticed that I'd forgotten to spray the inside of the oven door. Hmm, again... Another nap? Well, I had to be thorough so I sprayed everything down again- this time remembering the door- and took another twenty minute rest on the couch.
After the oven was done, I tackled the icing. Eight pounds of powdered sugar, two and a half pounds of butter and more shortening than I want to admit later, I had a very large bowl full of delicious American Buttercream. Now to dye it. Rick'n'Abby had requested that their cake be iced with off-white or ivory-ish icing. No problem! Done that plenty of times. They had chosen "warm brown" food coloring to be used on their cake and it didn't seem like there was any reason that one or two drops of that shouldn't make a nice slightly-off-from-white color. So I pulled it out, took off the seal and carefully dropped two drops on top of the mound of buttercream. Thank the powers that be that I didn't add even a little more because I began to mix and... The buttercream turned a light pinky-orange! WHAT?! Horrible, horrible! I didn't have eight more pounds of powdered sugar! I didn't have two and a half pounds of butter! Breathebreathebreathe, thinkthinkthink... Okay, I decided to wash my hands and dig out a bowl scraper. There was BOUND to be more white icing at the bottom of this bowl and when I mixed that in the color would lighten and be closer to what I wanted. I scraped all the sides, I scraped the bottom, I folded the icing and mixed 'til the color was as even as I could make it... And it was still pink-ish! Next thought: Florescent lights! My kitchen is lit by a strange florescent light that makes the yellow walls look green-ish. Maybe if I took the buttercream out into NATURAL light it would be a different color. So I headed outside with my icing-covered hands to see what I could see. Yeeeeeesss, it was a liiiittle bit less pink and almost an ok color. I was going to make this work!
With that, I decided it was time for the bottom layer of the cake. Out from the chest freezer came the two 14x14x3" layers of chocolate cake. I allowed them to defrost just a bit while I trimmed the cake board to the correct size and cut the drain hole in the center. The tops of the cakes were trimmed off with ease. Off came the papers from the bottom and with some minor leveling I was ready for the real challenge: the carving out of the pond. So far things were great. Then I realized something that I SHOULD have seen WAY back when Rick asked me about the placement of the pond's drain... It was in the wrong spot! The only way I could make this work would be if I turned the heart-shaped pond so it looked more like a bean than a heart! THIS was NOT the plan! And right then it hit me that I was in WAY over my head. So I did what any sane person would do when they realized that they actually were not sane: I called up Katie and had a complete nervous freak-out over the phone.
Ok, maybe not everyone would call KATIE but she's a great sister and it was a better plan than calling the groom and having a freak-out which would most definitely get to the bride. Katie was really great about just listening to me for the whole thing. As the tears subsided and my breathing returned to near-normal, I bit my lip and made the first cuts. I carved out that pond while on the phone with Katie and I made a couple other decisions with her support. The first decision being that I needed to re-freeze the cake if I had any chance of getting the top layer off and the cake filled without reducing things to crumbs. Once I was calm and the cake back in the freezer, I let Katie get on with life. Things were good again. I could do this. I would MAKE this work. So what if the pond wasn't facing the right direction? So what if the icing was just the tiniest bit pink? This was all going to work! :) That's when my landlord showed up with absolutely NO warning.
Two things you should know: 1)We have two cats and our landlords don't know. 2) I haven't fully cleaned the house since the BEFORE Jason's wedding cake. Oh, yeah, I'd picked up garbage, dishes and socks and done a minimal amount of laundry just so we wouldn't be naked and would have towels. AND I'd scooped the litter box as well. BUT the house was a WRECK! There were boxes everywhere, dirty laundry in baskets in the kitchen, chunks of chocolate cake piled on a sheet pan on the stove-top next to the huge bowl of icing, dirty bowls from icing creation filling the sink and spread across our one and only counter, crumbs on the floor, various cake tools and my tool box on the table and floor respectively... And two cats who are normally hidden well away (along with bowls, etc.) before the landlords show up. If he had called, I would have told him to give me at least 30 minutes before he came.
As it was, I had to crack the door open a little and literally BEG him to wait on the porch while I cleaned up the kitchen just a bit, PLEASE?! As soon as he caved I shut the door grabbed my cat, looked about wildly for Branden's cat and, upon not finding her, PRAYED that she'd be her typical self and STAY HIDDEN. Dropping my cat in the bedroom and shutting the door on the unmade bed and the overflowing laundry basket, I reached over and shut the bathroom door as well with the hope that no cat had used the litter box recently enough for any smell to be obvious. I grabbed the cat bowls, stacked the laundry baskets, tossed all of that into the laundry room, shoved some half-packed kitchen boxes in there as well and closed the door, looked around the kitchen... And gave up. I let my landlord in and explained that I was in the middle of my younger brother's wedding cake so please excuse the mess that was still there. He was pretty cool about things. This was ok. And then his WIFE walked in the back door and through the laundry room with NO warning. I just about died on the spot. The mess I was trying to hide- complete with cat bowls- was now out there for all to see AND she'd walked through it. Oh, to have this over with quickly! Could I get a bolt of lightning or something? Maybe just spontaneously combust? And then they wanted to linger a bit and talk about my brother's cake and our move. He also discovered that the heating unit in the oven had to be taken out with tools which he hadn't brought so he'd have to leave and come back. And all this time there's a cat on the loose SOMEWHERE in our house. They finally left, her for the evening and him for just a few minutes. I FLEW through the house, found the cat and shut her in the room with moments to spare before his return.
Since I was, after all, making the cake I decided that this would be a good time to get it back out and be really obviously busy so he would leave faster this second time. It worked. After stepping over and around him multiple times trying to fill and ice a large cake in a pathetically small kitchen, he got the hint and left quickly. I finished the base icing in peace and was feeling a little more relaxed when I realized that there was no way I could hold up the cake, hold up the pond AND thread the drain tube through the drain hole without help. So I once again placed the cake in the freezer and decided, as I was obviously still sick, I needed to rest until Branden got home.
I was on the couch with a book when he arrived and I very quickly got him to help me fasten the cake board to the wooden base we were using and get the pond in place. I had another minor freak-out when some of the icing cracked and the cake around the front of the pond bowed out but I recovered much more quickly this time and inserted skewers into the bowing cake to help hold it in place. That done, I decided that all decorating could wait until I was decorating the other layers and placed it once more in the freezer so it would survive the one-hour trip from my house to my mom's house. I spent the rest of the evening washing/gathering necessary tools and assembling all supplies needed. I did manage to make dinner, though we went to bed pretty much as soon as we finished eating it. We were going to need to leave our house by 6 AM in order to meet Rick at my mom's house at 7 AM and, especially since I was sick, I was going to need all the sleep I could get. Unfortunately, I didn't get it... But that's a story for Part 4. :)
Rick'n'Abby's Wedding Cake (Part 2)
I finished all the cake baking Tuesday which was a great thing because Wednesday our oven broke.
Wednesday was a day for getting the last few things I was going to need to make the cake work. After a couple hours running errands, I came home to make the filling for the cake. They wanted real Bavarian cream, which wasn't a big deal but can be somewhat time consuming. After all, this is the REAL stuff, not the vanilla pudding you get in a donut. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the fake stuff. I even enjoy a "Bavarian cream" filled donut every once in a very long while. But for my brother, I was going to make only the best!
Everything was going smoothly. The creme anglaise base was nearly finished when Branden called from the store asking if we needed anything. At that point I was still thinking I might be making the buttercream that evening so it just made sense to do something really easy for dinner. With this in mind, I suggested he pick up something like chicken strips that we could just pop in the oven.
I should also mention that Rick called to make sure I was ok. I thought it was very sweet of him to be worried but reassured him that everything was on schedule and I was really ok with doing this. Rick'n'Abby were SO cooperative and helpful. Without them, this whole experience would have been a true nightmare... Ok, without them, I would have said NO to anything even resembling this cake.
Branden got home as I was waiting for the creme anglaise to cool and I turned on the oven to preheat for dinner. This is when everything goes downhill. About three minutes after I turned the oven on, the heating unit started to spark! I've seen fires in ovens- I've accidentally LIT fires in ovens- but I've never seen anything like that before. Because I have great thinking skills, I LUNGED across the kitchen and turned off the oven. The sparking died down but a large stretch of the unit was bright red and part of it looked melted. Branden asked what I'd put in the oven to make it do that- how rude of him!- but nothing that I've ever baked in my entire life would have caused that kind of reaction if it had dripped onto the heating unit.
So I called the landlord and gave up on using the oven for the night... We did test it and it had no intention of heating up ever again. During all of this, the anglaise got too cold and I had to re-heat it on the stove until it smoothed out. This was a not-great thing as I was risking the chance that I'd end up with sweet scrambled eggs instead of dessert sauce. I finished the filling with the realization that my head hurt, my throat was scratchy and I was just not feeling great in general... I was getting sick. :S Things had gone from fine to not-fine in the course of an hour and all I wanted to do was sleep. So I went to bed. I did not make dinner, I did not make buttercream, I just curled up in bed and had bad dreams about wedding cakes.
And that is the end of the second day of the creation of Rick'n'Abby's wedding cake.
Wednesday was a day for getting the last few things I was going to need to make the cake work. After a couple hours running errands, I came home to make the filling for the cake. They wanted real Bavarian cream, which wasn't a big deal but can be somewhat time consuming. After all, this is the REAL stuff, not the vanilla pudding you get in a donut. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the fake stuff. I even enjoy a "Bavarian cream" filled donut every once in a very long while. But for my brother, I was going to make only the best!
Everything was going smoothly. The creme anglaise base was nearly finished when Branden called from the store asking if we needed anything. At that point I was still thinking I might be making the buttercream that evening so it just made sense to do something really easy for dinner. With this in mind, I suggested he pick up something like chicken strips that we could just pop in the oven.
I should also mention that Rick called to make sure I was ok. I thought it was very sweet of him to be worried but reassured him that everything was on schedule and I was really ok with doing this. Rick'n'Abby were SO cooperative and helpful. Without them, this whole experience would have been a true nightmare... Ok, without them, I would have said NO to anything even resembling this cake.
Branden got home as I was waiting for the creme anglaise to cool and I turned on the oven to preheat for dinner. This is when everything goes downhill. About three minutes after I turned the oven on, the heating unit started to spark! I've seen fires in ovens- I've accidentally LIT fires in ovens- but I've never seen anything like that before. Because I have great thinking skills, I LUNGED across the kitchen and turned off the oven. The sparking died down but a large stretch of the unit was bright red and part of it looked melted. Branden asked what I'd put in the oven to make it do that- how rude of him!- but nothing that I've ever baked in my entire life would have caused that kind of reaction if it had dripped onto the heating unit.
So I called the landlord and gave up on using the oven for the night... We did test it and it had no intention of heating up ever again. During all of this, the anglaise got too cold and I had to re-heat it on the stove until it smoothed out. This was a not-great thing as I was risking the chance that I'd end up with sweet scrambled eggs instead of dessert sauce. I finished the filling with the realization that my head hurt, my throat was scratchy and I was just not feeling great in general... I was getting sick. :S Things had gone from fine to not-fine in the course of an hour and all I wanted to do was sleep. So I went to bed. I did not make dinner, I did not make buttercream, I just curled up in bed and had bad dreams about wedding cakes.
And that is the end of the second day of the creation of Rick'n'Abby's wedding cake.
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