Last Sunday - and let's note the date - August 10, 2008, was perfect. One of those New England summer days that convinced me that there was a utopia, and it was in Vermont. 72 degrees, sunny, breezy, bright blue sky with a handful of obscenely fluffy white clouds that were all far to perfectly shaped. Really, they had no right to be that attractive. Oh, but I forgot, in utopia the clouds can be as pretty as they want.
Any way, we got up early, did laundry, and hung it all out to dry. Partly because it was a fantastically sunny day, partly because there were no available dryers at the laundry mat. Part of the side effect of living in a small town is a small laundry mat. However, rarely are there that many people there. But, also, it only takes about three people doing laundry to occupy all the machines, so I suppose it is all relative. No matter! That is why we live where we do, so we can come home and string up a couple of extra lines, and hang the wash out to dry. I would like to note that all of our 'vintage' / thrift store clothing was dry very quickly, but any thing we have bought in the last ten years at a 'real' store took forever. We have evolved (apparel wise) into the land of necessary dryers. I am still waiting for my jeans to dry.
After all that hard labor *whew!* we made lovely lunches from our vegetable garden; summer tomatoes, squash (what is a meal without squash?!?!) , and added some tasty cheeses, and Bread. In a gluten free house, Bread always gets a capitalization. Bread is special. Bread is a treat. Bread is something you savor and get very, very excited about.
And, since sunny weather is hard to come by lately, we took the oppourtunity to mow the lawn, tag team style. It takes one person about 3 hours to mow the lawn. BUT - out lovely land vixen owns two push mowers, so me can break them both out and get it done lickety-split. Which was good, because then the clouds started rolling in...
Not to fear! We got the mowing done in record time, and managed to break a sweat - all those hills are a great workout. Now time for a little break; we grabbed cold beers, and sat on the porch and watched the storm clouds. They were across the valley, and you could see the edges of the storm, the lightning ricocheting off the clouds, and sometimes sending angry fingers to trees below. We debated gathering the laundry, but the storm glided on around us.
After some garage stuff (Chris) and some house stuff (me) it was getting to be about evening and dinner time, so I set to cooking. More squash, polenta, collards, and some toasted sunflower seeds to start....but that is about as far as I got.
Moments after I put the sunflower seeds in the oven (it felt like moment, maybe it was longer) I smell something funny and OH MY GOD THERE ARE FLAMES IN THE OVEN! I (amazingly) think that "I need to turn off the gas" and even more remarkably actually did so.
And then I open the oven.
BAD idea, as flames leap OUT of the oven. Slam door shut, and, god only knows why, open the oven AGAIN. I think I thought I would find something other than black smoke and flames, but no.
Then, most embarrassingly of all, I run for my husband. I can think of nothing else to do other than GET CHRIS. SO into the yard, screaming my head off. Chris recalls me screaming something along the lines of "ChrisFireHelpNow!" He had no trouble hearing that.
And at this point it starts raining. With all the clothes still on the line.
Into the house bursts Chris, and grabs the (why didn't I think of it?) fire extinguisher.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFffffffffffffffffffffffffffffTTttttttttttttttttttttttt.
Fire is out. Black smoke is everywhere, and the inside of our oven is caked in soot and fire extinguisher stuff. And there is a fine layer of fire extinguisher dust over out entire house.
Then we both tear into the yard, throwing laundry into baskets as quickly as possible, and back into the house.
Then I start to cry, because I realize not only have I ruined dinner, but now we have to clean all this up. And start cooking again, because we can't go out to eat, because Chris can't eat anything. But, we do it. We clean up, and make some salads, and I vow never to use to oven again without proper supervision.
But; I did not destroy the oven. After some spraying of oven cleaner, it is as good as new - literally. That stuff is a little scary, actually. I'm not sure what it did to make it so easy to clean that oven, but man oh man, that oven is Spotless.
And I did not cause the house to explode. It only occurred to me a few days later that 1) we have a gas stove. 2) Our gas stove was full - really, full - of fire. 3) Our oven did not explode.
I'm sure that somewhere there is a design element that the clever stove manufacturers included, and I did have the presence of mind to turn off the gas, but still....
15 August 2008
07 August 2008
More Marital Bliss
me: Hey, I posted on my blog, about how you can't hear me.
Chris: I can hear you just fine, I just choose to ignore you.
me: WHAT?!?!
Chris: .....
From what I observe, this is 'selective hearing,' a condition that all men develop upon the placement of a wedding ring on their finger. This is similar to, but in a different form from, 'selective memory,' which women develop with the acquisition of the same jewelery:
Chris: Wifey, did you go to Target?
me: I think so....
Chris: What'd you get? Do you have the receipt?
me: Um, I don't remember....
Chris: I thought you said you were only going to pick up some laundry detergent.
me: Really? Did I? I don't remember that.
Chris: Is that a new dress?
me: ....
Chris: I can hear you just fine, I just choose to ignore you.
me: WHAT?!?!
Chris: .....
From what I observe, this is 'selective hearing,' a condition that all men develop upon the placement of a wedding ring on their finger. This is similar to, but in a different form from, 'selective memory,' which women develop with the acquisition of the same jewelery:
Chris: Wifey, did you go to Target?
me: I think so....
Chris: What'd you get? Do you have the receipt?
me: Um, I don't remember....
Chris: I thought you said you were only going to pick up some laundry detergent.
me: Really? Did I? I don't remember that.
Chris: Is that a new dress?
me: ....
Home
I am having huge painful urges to go home. It happened about this time last year, too. It is as if I can only handle approx. 6 months of time away from Kentucky before I need to visit again. And maybe - just maybe - I am a little jealous that Chris's sister now lives soooo close, and we get to see her when ever we want. And that we got to spend time with his friends and family when they came up this year. Flying is prohibitively expensive, and after last August's experience, I swore not to fly until the airlines got their act together. And driving, well, not really an option either, although I am itching for a road trip. Maybe I'll just head down to Boston to see Johnna in a week...
06 August 2008
Two Years
This past weekend a couple friend of ours came to visit. At one point, Chris and I were having one of our typical conversations:
me: Christopher - honey?
Chris: Hmmm?
me: Remember that thing?
Chris: .....
me: Ya know, that was all....and we were.....remember?
Chris: .......
me: Seriously! Don't you remember!
Chris: .......
me: Chris! Are you listening to me?
Chris: What?
To which my friends started laughing and said we have now been married for 30 years.
me: Christopher - honey?
Chris: Hmmm?
me: Remember that thing?
Chris: .....
me: Ya know, that was all....and we were.....remember?
Chris: .......
me: Seriously! Don't you remember!
Chris: .......
me: Chris! Are you listening to me?
Chris: What?
To which my friends started laughing and said we have now been married for 30 years.
Squash.
I have a lot of squash. Really, it is coming out of our ears, because after you eat it every day for weeks and weeks and you start to turn a little yellow, and it starts ooozing out of your ears. Chris has been having a hard time hearing me lately,
me: Honey - where is the squash?
Chris: The what?
me: The squash?
Chris: ........
me: Chris - did you hear me?
Chris: ......
me: Chris? Hey - where is the SQUASH? CHRIS!
Chris: .....
me: CHRIS! WHERE THE @#$% ARE YOU?!?!?
Chris: Sorry, wifey - did you say something?
And it is because his ears are clogged with squash.
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