Of Not Much Importance Whatsoever

Yesterday afternoon I ran out of oxygen.  I knew I was going to and had been stressing over this eventuality for some time.  So it finally happened--mid-bead as is to be expected.  I was going to put off replacing my bottle until today, but I will have a fairly nice block of time to torch in this afternoon and didn't want to waste it unnecessarily.  So I asked my middle son if he would be willing to take me and my bottle to the store.  He was most agreeable and I have a nice full tank of oxygen waiting for me to hook up this afternoon.

Well, my unscheduled gallivanting left me a little behind.  I have supper fairly well in hand when Kent texted me to say he was on his way home. 

He got home and immediately went to work on his lunch for today.  He leaves so early for work right now that things like lunches need to be done the night before.  So he's in the kitchen fixing chicken for his sandwich.  I am cleaning up, loading the dishwasher, and occasionally stirring my pot, so it won't burn.

Kent lays down a fork beside the sink.  I pick up said fork, rinse it off, and put it in the dishwasher.  Along with other miscellaneous dirty dishes...

Pretty soon--"Where's my fork?" asked Kent.  "You put my fork in the dishwasher," said rather accusingly.

"No, I didn't.  I didn't see your fork.  I didn't take your fork,"  in spite of the fact that I pretty obviously had.

Pointing to the bare counter.  "Do you see a fork?  No, there is no fork there.  You took my fork and put it in the dishwasher."

Meanwhile, our oldest child is sitting at the dining room table laughing hysterically.  "This is so funny!"  she announces when she is able to speak again.  Her own private sit-com...

September Celebrations

September is always a very busy month.  We celebrate a birthday and an anniversary just three days apart.  Of course, that is only if the fall seeding hasn't started and my husband is spending his days (from 4:00 am to 9:00 pm)  in a tractor.

Seeding is just getting started, so we actually had a little time on Thursday to have a small birthday celebration.  I am not a cake person, so I am always trying to find a cake that I will actually like.  This year's cake was a chocolate creation with layers of strawberry cream.  The ganache frosting is still the best part of the cake.

Our anniversary was on Sunday and we SHOULD have been able to do something spectacular...you would think.  Not so much!  The hay trailer developed a flat tire that necessitated the removal of all the hay and an emergency trip to park in the driveway.  Then we had a lawn to mow.  I met Kent in town at the yard in question.  By the time we were finished it was getting on to dark.  So we went out to eat...  Being as Kent was covered in hay dust and I was wearing ratty jeans and old boots with a distinct green patina (acquired from years of yardwork), we decided that we were only fit to be seen at Dairy Queen.

Our town has such an enormous number of restaurants to choose from...We have a McDonald's (not good for the vegetarian), a Subway (no greasy fries), a couple of rather nice Mexican places (not in the mood for Mexican), a couple of Chinese places (ditto on the mood), and Dairy Queen.  Since neither of us wanted to take the time or waste the gas to go home, clean up, and head into Walla Walla, Dairy Queen it was.

Tuesday Supper

I come home from running errands last evening to find both my husband and my son rolling around under my son's truck.  I left them to it and went to make supper.  While I started supper I also tackled the fridge cleaning.

I really don't like to clean out my fridge.  There is always something unidentifiable lurking away somewhere.  I didn't have much choice because I couldn't get one of my vegetable crisper drawers to open.  Somehow it had gotten something sticky in the track and it would not pull out.  So I had to dismantle the entire crisper assembly and give it a good scrub.  I tried to clean underneath at the same time, but I don't think I quite got everything.  I don't understand why there is always this nasty, sticky goo under the drawers...

The fridge was done about the same time as supper finished cooking.  It was dark by this time and the guys were finished with the truck--at least with the most difficult part.  They came in to wash up and eat.

Craig looked into the pot, grabbed a spoon and started eating straight out of the pot.  I watched this for a moment and suggested, "Get a plate or a bowl and put food on it and eat the food."  So he does.  He gets a plate, piles it with food, and continues to eat straight from the pot...His excuse--I wasn't specific enough.

September

I started back to work the Tuesday after Labor Day.  It has been kind of a jolt this year.  I had gotten into quite a little routine over the summer.  And now I have to change it up and do something different--like go to work.

This wouldn't be such a problem except for the fact that I have gotten into the habit of tidying my house first thing and then going off to make glass or whatever.  Well, now there isn't time to tidy everything up first things.  To find a new routine that will work...

We are going to have company coming tomorrow.  We're very thrilled to have company coming, but my house isn't quite as spotless as I would like since I'm still trying to get back into my school routine.  And in the midst of filling my latest order, canning tomatoes, getting ready for company, grooming the messy dog, and what have you, I now have laundry drama...

For some time now the washer hasn't wanted to run after it filled with water unless I banged on the lid--or the cats jumped on it.  I figured that's just the way things will be; it's an old washer, after all.  But this week it decided that now was the appropriate time to die.  I had finished one load and gotten the other started and went outside to enjoy a little of the last of our wonderful weather.  I came back in and from the kitchen could see a puddle in the hall.  At first it looked like perhaps one of the dogs had had an accident.  But as I followed it down the hall, it quickly became apparent that this water was originating from the utility room and in a quantity far larger than a canine accident.

I checked the washer.  It assured me it was through with the wash cycle and everything was ready to go in the dryer.  When I lifted the lid, I realized this was NOT the case.  The washer was still half-full of water.  I tried to run another spin cycle thinking it was maybe out of balance or something.  To no avail.  Instead of happy draining noises, I heard nasty sloshing sounds and soon water started to creep across the floor.  I'm still (the completely incurable optimist) hoping that perhaps my drain hose is clogged, but the truth is that this is an ancient washing machine (26 years and counting), and most probably it won't be resuscitated.