Chaos Reigns

Oops! Or how not to spend your vacation

The boys and I went down to Mom and Dad's last Friday so we could celebrate Father's Day with the World's Best Dad. It turned out to be a rather strange celebration but a celebration none the less.

Friday evening, Mom and I were preparing dinner. Everything was just about ready. Mom just needed to mash the potatoes and dinner would be served. She decided to use the hand mixer on the top shelf of the cupboard so she got out her handy dandy step stool and climbed up. All of a sudden I hear a thump and Mom says, "I broke my ankle." Sure enough, her right foot was pointing in the same direction as her knees. Her left foot was pointing in the opposite direction.

As I'm reaching for the phone to call 911, Mom says not to call. We should just drive her to the emergency room. Now I'm usually an obedient child but this time I defied my mother and dialed. She's still protesting that she can just hop to the car on one foot.

Mom and Dad live about 15 miles outside of town on a country highway with only the mailbox to mark the spot. I walked up to the road to flag down the ambulance. About the time I get to the highway, it starts to rumble and roar. Lightening is flashing all around me and I'm standing in the middle of the road like an idiot. I finally decide that maybe, just maybe, I should go back and get the car. Getting struck by lightening would not have made the day any better and I didn't want to find out if the ambulance service had a family plan.

The ambulance arrives and the crew doesn't want to drive down to the house. They don't think the thing will go down the drive and if it does, they're afraid that they will drive over the septic tank and get stuck. After a few minutes of very persuasive begging on my part, I convince them that the drive is really quite wide (and it is) and the septic tank is behind the house (and it really is).

The EMTs finally got in the house. The dog is barking. Mom is white as a sheet. Dad isn't looking much better. One son is watching every move the EMTs make while the other is curled up on a couch with a blanket over his head. I don't want to see what's at the end of her leg. I don't do well with blood.

They doped Mom up with morphine and she was feeling fine. It took three large, strong men to lift her onto the gurney. Remember, this is the woman that was going to hop to the car.

Mom was taken into surgery and did very well. She should be coming home in the next couple of days. We are thrilled about that.

However, Mom won't be able to drive for at least 2 months and Dad hasn't been able to drive for over 35 years. I'll be staying with them to act as gofer, chauffeur, nurse, chief bottle washer and trouble maker. My sister will be coming over on the weekends to help out and give me a little break.

Blogging will probably be sporatic but I'll post as often as possible. They don't have cable modem! I'll have to use dial-up. I hate dial-up! 

My Knitting Buddy

I often took a project with me to work on while Eric was at baseball practice. This year I took my knitting and it acted like a magnet on the sweetest little blonde named Kate. Never before has a child shown an interest in what I was working on at the ballpark.

Kate: Whatcha doing?
Me:   I knitting a pair of socks.
Kate: I got a kit for Christmas but my mom can't figure it out.

Before I knew what was happening, I volunteered to teach Kate to knit.

The next week, Kate arrived at the ball field with her knitting kit and beaded purse in one hand and her pink bat bag in the other. A girl has to be well rounded.

I showed her how to cast on and she caught on in an instant. Next I showed her how to knit. My big cosmic question is: Why! OH WHY would anyone put what Becca calls muppet fur in a beginner's knitting kit? Poor Kate. She couldn't see anything in all the muppet fuzz. I ended up doing the muppet fur border. As soon as we got past that, Kate took over.  

A week or so later, Kate has a group of young girls (age 7 - 9) and she's teaching them to knit! They were borrowing my needles and left over yarn and had several communal projects going at once. When one girl got tired of knitting, another would pick it up. They completed a couple of "doll blankets" that Kate commandeered immediately.

The new wore off for the other girls but Kate hung in there until the last game of the season. She's a natural.

Eric to the Rescue

     What is it about a balloon that compels us to rescue it? What if it isn't just one balloon but a huge bunch of balloons?

Eric and I decided we would eat at the Mexican Buffet and finish off his school work. While Eric was slaving away over his math, I noticed a huge - by huge, I mean gigantic, bunch of balloons floating across the parking lot. Not being the most intelligent creature to walk upright, I exclaimed, "Eric, look! Aren't they beautiful?"  That was the end of the math lesson.

Eric tried to convince me that he could capture the balloons. I was doubtful but there was no way he would leave the area without giving it a try. Notice the wall he's standing on - it's about 8 feet high. It's not looking like something I want to do and I'm wondering how much the doctor bills are for a broken neck. But Eric was determined.

Eric shimmied up a tree and  caught the ribbons on a couple of balloons. He pulled, he tugged, he shifted from side to side. He tried everything short of cutting the tree down.

Unfortunately, the balloons were caught in a 3 prong fork. No matter which direction he pulled, they were caught. The only way to release them was to go up. That option would have meant losing the balloons.

Thirty minutes later, Eric admitted defeat. The trees won and we left without the balloons. Sometimes I hate it when I'm right.

I'm the Mom

I found this at Heart of Wisdom and I couldn't resist posting it here. I'm going to have to learn all the words so I can sing it too.

Sweet Tea

  One of the most difficult adjustments I had to make when we moved to the Deep South from Texas was ordering ice tea. The default down here is "sweet tea". Personally, I can't stand sugar in my tea..

This shouldn't have come as a surprise to me. My granny was born and raised in the panhandle of Florida before Florida became "South New York". She would make tea and, while it was still hot, add sugar until an inch of it stood undissolved in the bottom of the pitcher. Considering Granny's tea and the Southern penchant for pecan pie (corn syrup and pecans) and mint juleps (simple syrup, bourbon, and mint) not to mention RC Cola and moon pies, I don't know why the sweet tea default was so shocking to me but it is still quite disconcerting to order tea expecting a tall, cool glass of ice tea, and nothing else and be served sweet tea.

Now the thing that really baffles me is the way true Southerners order tea. I just don't understand why they do this but everytime they will order "sweet tea" like they are going to get anything else in this neck of the woods.