There is again an issue of identity. I am told that my pseudonyms are vague and my references to "covert" operations cryptic. It will be all over soon, so it is almost a moot point. I admit I get carried away with contrived adventures. You don't even want to know about the voices in my head. But, getting back to my point, I was a little worried about suddenly referring to the "switch" bird (the second one, the good bird), for example "t thoughts" as in turkey thoughts in episode # 3; mrs. t, was, of course the turkey. And then, when I copy actual emails to my children, and there might be some from them, I have given them further aliases, which now bear more clarification.
So, child #1, I will address as L; child #2, J; child #3, H; child #4, P.
Remember that my husband is SS.
Going forward, Mindy is of course the turkey. And everything is above board now, SS actually hoisted the pan with the bird into the oven for me with nary a comment on how long we've had her. Oven preheated to 425 degrees, 35 minutes breast side down, turn down heat to 350 degrees, 40 minutes breast side up, temp at the breast (both sides), looking for 165 degrees, both thighs ideally 170 degrees, maybe 175. Out of the oven, rest for 30 minutes, and carve. Skin should shatter with crispness since she air dried for 3 days. I'm gonna have to quit calling her Mindy and stop saying "her", since this is now supper.
To revisit the names issue, let's just do away with the #s and go with L, J, H, and P., respectively.
This could now serve as a reference piece; just some housekeeping for clarity's sake.
Well, the holidays are winding down, just one more little get-together to lay out a spread for, just some nibbles for grazing, actually. This blog thing came in the midst of of the season's whirlwind, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.
Talk is, the vinyl tile in the kitchen was significantly damaged by the leak from the dishwasher. SS wants to change to a linoleum floor, which will include the adjacent dining room. He also wants to take up the cabinets and put flooring underneath. This is an old house and repairs could go on and on. It's looking to be Armageddon.
By the way, he said how about that turkey being good after all this time... it sure didn't have a smell. This man would eat out of my hand.
Until next time, then, and Merry Christmas!
Aileen
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
email to child #2
Hey J,
Just saw your latest email...thanks for relaying that to me...I do wonder how readers react.
Actually, last night I was in some form of serious self-doubt, mired in eleventh-hour panic mode over the kings' head dresses for the pageant this morning. I called [your brother] L, and probably from the tone of my voice, he could tell I needed something, because he returned my call right away even though he has a sore throat. I asked him right off had he heard anything from his friends about my blog? He was his usual taciturn self but he did throw me some crumbs. Anyway, I just had to get the work done on whatever muster I could call up. I did not sleep at all. I sewed (by hand) all night. I was finishing up the second piece...and I kept thinking...OK, I'll take a break at 1, lay down for a couple hours, set the alarm for 3, get back to work...maybe just close my eyes for a bit, just to give them a rest...I'll probably work much better...
It then occurred to me that if I quit worrying about getting 15 winks, I would have the greater part of 4 hours before time to get ready for church.
This, I think, is how I get into credit card trouble. You'd have to follow the Make Bigger and Bigger Right Turns Procedure (for going Left without making a left turn), to get this analogy, but since I breastfed you and you learned my skewed logic [and hopefully Swat fixed that] at my elbow, you probably get the gist. Besides the fact that you have Actually gotten me out of Credit Card Hell before.
The thing about "pulling an all-nighter" is, you kinda float in this thick bog of being awake and forging on, while being so tired and sleepy that the part of you that is sensible and knows that you should be asleep is watching the wretched little elf you and seeing that there is actually little progress being made here, because your eyes are not wanting to see anymore, and real time is taking longer. It seemed like I'd been stitching on the same tassel forever and ever. Like when you're high on pot if you know how that is. But I just kept sewing and sewing and got all three done. There were praises all around for our ensemble and particular mention of the kings' hats; maybe there'll be some pictures to send.
So, I'll get right soon enough and see about the old bird. She's kinda grown on me; I call her Mindy.:)
Love,
Mom
Just saw your latest email...thanks for relaying that to me...I do wonder how readers react.
Actually, last night I was in some form of serious self-doubt, mired in eleventh-hour panic mode over the kings' head dresses for the pageant this morning. I called [your brother] L, and probably from the tone of my voice, he could tell I needed something, because he returned my call right away even though he has a sore throat. I asked him right off had he heard anything from his friends about my blog? He was his usual taciturn self but he did throw me some crumbs. Anyway, I just had to get the work done on whatever muster I could call up. I did not sleep at all. I sewed (by hand) all night. I was finishing up the second piece...and I kept thinking...OK, I'll take a break at 1, lay down for a couple hours, set the alarm for 3, get back to work...maybe just close my eyes for a bit, just to give them a rest...I'll probably work much better...
It then occurred to me that if I quit worrying about getting 15 winks, I would have the greater part of 4 hours before time to get ready for church.
This, I think, is how I get into credit card trouble. You'd have to follow the Make Bigger and Bigger Right Turns Procedure (for going Left without making a left turn), to get this analogy, but since I breastfed you and you learned my skewed logic [and hopefully Swat fixed that] at my elbow, you probably get the gist. Besides the fact that you have Actually gotten me out of Credit Card Hell before.
The thing about "pulling an all-nighter" is, you kinda float in this thick bog of being awake and forging on, while being so tired and sleepy that the part of you that is sensible and knows that you should be asleep is watching the wretched little elf you and seeing that there is actually little progress being made here, because your eyes are not wanting to see anymore, and real time is taking longer. It seemed like I'd been stitching on the same tassel forever and ever. Like when you're high on pot if you know how that is. But I just kept sewing and sewing and got all three done. There were praises all around for our ensemble and particular mention of the kings' hats; maybe there'll be some pictures to send.
So, I'll get right soon enough and see about the old bird. She's kinda grown on me; I call her Mindy.:)
Love,
Mom
Monday, December 13, 2010
episode 4
Back on the saddle again.
hopefully on the final stretch. getting excited... purchased fresh herbs. love to make dressing. tomorrow is the big day! sanitation dept. run. albatross off my neck. Big Albatross.
Dishwasher issue resolved but "lab" in disarrray. Must keep strength up. must go on.
A.
hopefully on the final stretch. getting excited... purchased fresh herbs. love to make dressing. tomorrow is the big day! sanitation dept. run. albatross off my neck. Big Albatross.
Dishwasher issue resolved but "lab" in disarrray. Must keep strength up. must go on.
A.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
disaster
"Houston, we've got a problem..."
Beads of water are coming up in between linoleum tiles. The dishwasher is leaking. Everything on hold, even my dirty dishes from lunch. Gotta go to Sears for a new dishwasher.
Get back to you later.
Beads of water are coming up in between linoleum tiles. The dishwasher is leaking. Everything on hold, even my dirty dishes from lunch. Gotta go to Sears for a new dishwasher.
Get back to you later.
episode 3
...the coast is clear.
mrs t debriefed i d [price tag and plastic wrapping] removed and destroyed.
washed and installed in pot in outside fridge awaiting solution.
important to have operatives very low key, movements smooth, undetectable; must have a decoy...aha! lunch will be cooking upon our mark's re-entry: beer brats sizzling, aroma will instantly distract t thoughts. must leave no room for questions. absolutely cannot allow perusing that could lead to doubts as to provenance of package. "how could this be?" that would be our doom. in fact, projecting success of this segment, i'm wondering myself, H O W COULD THIS BE??? is the stinger being stung? no time for paranoia...proceed as planned.
must now start on distracting side sway.
best if first inquiry (if unavoidable) occurs after drowning, when incriminating evidence [smell], might have been covered up with brine. "Did you smell of it?", "Yes, and there was NO off odor [of course], go check it out for yourself. Me, I'm gonna cook it, and I'm gonna eat it."
but...what if, he didn't REALLY think Martha was related to Charles next door!
What if, for practical purposes, it is apparent that if I'M gonna eat it, there's probably something going on and he's just playing cool...ha, ha, ha to me!
STOP!
keep our eyes on the ball. stay on track.
for now, must act casual... busy with meal preparation, do not disturb. hmm. hmm, hmm [christmas tunes...NOT M.I. theme!]
A.
mrs t debriefed i d [price tag and plastic wrapping] removed and destroyed.
washed and installed in pot in outside fridge awaiting solution.
important to have operatives very low key, movements smooth, undetectable; must have a decoy...aha! lunch will be cooking upon our mark's re-entry: beer brats sizzling, aroma will instantly distract t thoughts. must leave no room for questions. absolutely cannot allow perusing that could lead to doubts as to provenance of package. "how could this be?" that would be our doom. in fact, projecting success of this segment, i'm wondering myself, H O W COULD THIS BE??? is the stinger being stung? no time for paranoia...proceed as planned.
must now start on distracting side sway.
best if first inquiry (if unavoidable) occurs after drowning, when incriminating evidence [smell], might have been covered up with brine. "Did you smell of it?", "Yes, and there was NO off odor [of course], go check it out for yourself. Me, I'm gonna cook it, and I'm gonna eat it."
but...what if, he didn't REALLY think Martha was related to Charles next door!
What if, for practical purposes, it is apparent that if I'M gonna eat it, there's probably something going on and he's just playing cool...ha, ha, ha to me!
STOP!
keep our eyes on the ball. stay on track.
for now, must act casual... busy with meal preparation, do not disturb. hmm. hmm, hmm [christmas tunes...NOT M.I. theme!]
A.
episode 2
Just to say...
it will be short posts through this project, as necessary. One cannot perpetrate a crime and report in detail; it's counterproductive.
Most actions must take place while SS is away or distracted [sleeping, eating, playing solitaire, or otherwise indisposed because of necessary activities of daily living (ADL)]
Just as a side note, ADL is a real acronym, used for example, in occupational therapy.
Bird out of trunk. Needs more thawing.
On front porch inside a clean, empty porcelain planter.
PLAN: After tonight's movie, get it in the house and figure out next step.
PROBLEM: I got sleepy and forgot, went to bed before SS. Very cold outside, Did not promote thaw. But..there's progress...I mentioned it casually in the car and set the stage... "I finally have time to do something with the turkey", but of course, there's the washing, and the brining, (I can fudge all this in a vague timetable to steal more thawing time), and the air-drying.. he's all for it; no worries...."take your time...(I LOVE NO TIME PRESSURE; but 18 days?)...just take a good sniff, though".
OK! sooo OK!
I must hash out my schedule, because I also have 3 King's crowns to make for the Christmas pageant Dec.19. THAT is actually more important than this gig. Again, if worse comes to worse (time wise, for example) we WILL abort.
A.
p.s.
I can already hear the Mission Impossible soundtrack in my head. Gotta have music. Get in the groove. We can do this.
it will be short posts through this project, as necessary. One cannot perpetrate a crime and report in detail; it's counterproductive.
Most actions must take place while SS is away or distracted [sleeping, eating, playing solitaire, or otherwise indisposed because of necessary activities of daily living (ADL)]
Just as a side note, ADL is a real acronym, used for example, in occupational therapy.
Bird out of trunk. Needs more thawing.
On front porch inside a clean, empty porcelain planter.
PLAN: After tonight's movie, get it in the house and figure out next step.
PROBLEM: I got sleepy and forgot, went to bed before SS. Very cold outside, Did not promote thaw. But..there's progress...I mentioned it casually in the car and set the stage... "I finally have time to do something with the turkey", but of course, there's the washing, and the brining, (I can fudge all this in a vague timetable to steal more thawing time), and the air-drying.. he's all for it; no worries...."take your time...(I LOVE NO TIME PRESSURE; but 18 days?)...just take a good sniff, though".
OK! sooo OK!
I must hash out my schedule, because I also have 3 King's crowns to make for the Christmas pageant Dec.19. THAT is actually more important than this gig. Again, if worse comes to worse (time wise, for example) we WILL abort.
A.
p.s.
I can already hear the Mission Impossible soundtrack in my head. Gotta have music. Get in the groove. We can do this.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
episode 1
Y'all, the eagle has landed.
My chest is tight, my heart in my throat; I risked my life driving to Wal-Mart...thank heavens they have fresh birds. You see I had 4 hrs. sleep Thurs. night, same Fri. night. Could it be all this blogging? On regular days I avoid turning left and merging. Why, today, I couldn't even count exact change at the self-serve register. Just fed that whole twenty and got the change. I had to really pay attention to everything...I could have walked off without the change, that's how nervous I was. Am. I have used the word change 3x. Not good for an aspiring writer.
I have this well- thought out quasi-Mission Impossible strategy. Oh, I don't know why I bother, he wouldn't really mind, and these schemes have usually backfired because I just don't think fast enough on my feet and of course it gets to be a bigger and bigger lie, more convoluted...ridiculous what with my failing memory. But I have invested $15 (it wasn't on sale), and I'm committed.
Of course there are these wrenches that get flung at you... like it's not thawed all the way!
Oh my!
But rest assured, readers, we will persevere, one step at a time, unless we get caught.
For now I gotta go to my Real Life.
Aileen
My chest is tight, my heart in my throat; I risked my life driving to Wal-Mart...thank heavens they have fresh birds. You see I had 4 hrs. sleep Thurs. night, same Fri. night. Could it be all this blogging? On regular days I avoid turning left and merging. Why, today, I couldn't even count exact change at the self-serve register. Just fed that whole twenty and got the change. I had to really pay attention to everything...I could have walked off without the change, that's how nervous I was. Am. I have used the word change 3x. Not good for an aspiring writer.
I have this well- thought out quasi-Mission Impossible strategy. Oh, I don't know why I bother, he wouldn't really mind, and these schemes have usually backfired because I just don't think fast enough on my feet and of course it gets to be a bigger and bigger lie, more convoluted...ridiculous what with my failing memory. But I have invested $15 (it wasn't on sale), and I'm committed.
Of course there are these wrenches that get flung at you... like it's not thawed all the way!
Oh my!
But rest assured, readers, we will persevere, one step at a time, unless we get caught.
For now I gotta go to my Real Life.
Aileen
birth order
Why is it that when I say son #4 it's taken to mean I have 4 sons? This is child #4 who happens to be a Son. Merely a cultural language irregularity...which means I can just about get away with whatever harebrained explanation I come up with.
Seriously, though, I just mean the #4 child, a son who lives at home. As in the #3 child, a son who came home unexpectedly after I thought he was on his way away from home, and I got to love him with breakfast. And the #1 son who has attachment issues in spite of which, (being that he is reserved, reticent, restrained, and all manner of synonyms [they don't have to start with R] that I have 3x5's to file adjectives whenever I come up with more; except I can't find one right now but I have quite a collection) I know he loves me, too; and the #2 child, a daughter who is the heart next to mine.
So NOW, do you all get it? Because I have a more important issue at hand.
Which involves a fraud that I might need you to commit with me.
Maybe Fraud is too strong. What about Distraction? Too weak. Sleight of Hand? More apt. Except it involves a Turkey.
Not a big one, just 10 lbs.
How do I keep my husband from finding out that I have let this precious bird, bought at 97 [where is the cents key] cents per pound, ruin...because it has been thawed out since day before Thanksgiving and I have sworn by all manner of expertise accorded to me THAT IT IS ALRIGHT.
IT IS NOT. IT IS RUINED. SPOILED.
My idea is to do a Switch. As in get a fresh turkey, unwrap it in case there is brand recognition (not likely), somehow remove the Bad turkey, freeze it somewhere undetected (WHERE???) until garbage day, when I can stealthily (with a frozen fowl?) trudge to the can at the end of the driveway and get rid of the evidence... meanwhile, cook the New turkey...dressing, gravy, cranberry sauce... mesmerize Husband--and all is well.
Will he believe my contention that lo and behold, a thawed out turkey (18 days and counting), is still good to go? After all, he thought Martha Stewart was related to our neighbor Charles Stewart. I was holding forth at the stove while he read the paper there at the kitchen table; I was indignant that all of a sudden thread count mattered to the General Public. Just because Martha had made herself accessible to the Kmart shoppers. Egyptian Cotton? Well I was just building up to a roiling Right-to-be-a-Snob oratory when he looked up and after some time considering the gravity of my distress asked: "is she any kin to Charles next door?"
So, do you all think this dog will hunt?
Well I vote yes and I'm running with the ball. Which is a Mixed Metaphor according to Son#1. I bought the small McCormick Ground sage, and Thyme leaves; although I have always used fresh herbs in my dressing, with fraud you don't have to be so picky; and it's past Thanksgiving anyway. I just bought the Turkey to play with. Not Legos or Lincoln Logs, but brine then air-dry overnight (for crispy skin), or split and splay (for more uniform roasting), or dry salt, or dry rub, what have you; So What if I don't get to it in time and it SPOILS? A $10 waste against a $10 wonderful... an easy bet, not a bad loss, considering. But here I am, committing Fraud for a measly 10 bucks.
commiting?
committing?
I gotta learn Spell Check. I hear it's a real convenience compared to hauling out the Dictionary.
OK, that's a wrap.
Seriously, though, I just mean the #4 child, a son who lives at home. As in the #3 child, a son who came home unexpectedly after I thought he was on his way away from home, and I got to love him with breakfast. And the #1 son who has attachment issues in spite of which, (being that he is reserved, reticent, restrained, and all manner of synonyms [they don't have to start with R] that I have 3x5's to file adjectives whenever I come up with more; except I can't find one right now but I have quite a collection) I know he loves me, too; and the #2 child, a daughter who is the heart next to mine.
So NOW, do you all get it? Because I have a more important issue at hand.
Which involves a fraud that I might need you to commit with me.
Maybe Fraud is too strong. What about Distraction? Too weak. Sleight of Hand? More apt. Except it involves a Turkey.
Not a big one, just 10 lbs.
How do I keep my husband from finding out that I have let this precious bird, bought at 97 [where is the cents key] cents per pound, ruin...because it has been thawed out since day before Thanksgiving and I have sworn by all manner of expertise accorded to me THAT IT IS ALRIGHT.
IT IS NOT. IT IS RUINED. SPOILED.
My idea is to do a Switch. As in get a fresh turkey, unwrap it in case there is brand recognition (not likely), somehow remove the Bad turkey, freeze it somewhere undetected (WHERE???) until garbage day, when I can stealthily (with a frozen fowl?) trudge to the can at the end of the driveway and get rid of the evidence... meanwhile, cook the New turkey...dressing, gravy, cranberry sauce... mesmerize Husband--and all is well.
Will he believe my contention that lo and behold, a thawed out turkey (18 days and counting), is still good to go? After all, he thought Martha Stewart was related to our neighbor Charles Stewart. I was holding forth at the stove while he read the paper there at the kitchen table; I was indignant that all of a sudden thread count mattered to the General Public. Just because Martha had made herself accessible to the Kmart shoppers. Egyptian Cotton? Well I was just building up to a roiling Right-to-be-a-Snob oratory when he looked up and after some time considering the gravity of my distress asked: "is she any kin to Charles next door?"
So, do you all think this dog will hunt?
Well I vote yes and I'm running with the ball. Which is a Mixed Metaphor according to Son#1. I bought the small McCormick Ground sage, and Thyme leaves; although I have always used fresh herbs in my dressing, with fraud you don't have to be so picky; and it's past Thanksgiving anyway. I just bought the Turkey to play with. Not Legos or Lincoln Logs, but brine then air-dry overnight (for crispy skin), or split and splay (for more uniform roasting), or dry salt, or dry rub, what have you; So What if I don't get to it in time and it SPOILS? A $10 waste against a $10 wonderful... an easy bet, not a bad loss, considering. But here I am, committing Fraud for a measly 10 bucks.
commiting?
committing?
I gotta learn Spell Check. I hear it's a real convenience compared to hauling out the Dictionary.
OK, that's a wrap.
Friday, December 10, 2010
R.B.
I'm assuming that all my "followers" can discover each other.
So who are you, Richard Boyle? And if the above is not the case, I am sorry I revealed your identity. Now you'll have to go into The Blog Protection Program [a.k.a. Witness Protection]; that's a funny.
There is confusion over my references to my children, as in birth order or hidden meanings. It's very simple but will take a roundabout explanation which will entail great detail and alas more time than available right now. So..."later"!
So who are you, Richard Boyle? And if the above is not the case, I am sorry I revealed your identity. Now you'll have to go into The Blog Protection Program [a.k.a. Witness Protection]; that's a funny.
There is confusion over my references to my children, as in birth order or hidden meanings. It's very simple but will take a roundabout explanation which will entail great detail and alas more time than available right now. So..."later"!
Sunday, December 5, 2010
to clarify
#4 son asked why did I capitalize "left" in recent blog. Of course it is because turning Left is a Matter of Importance. And so is Getting Back to My Point. Getting Back to My Point is a skill that took 10 years of talk therapy to get a handle on and I am striving to stay on the straight and narrow in this endeavor.
I am uneasy with using vague references in order to preserve privacy, mine and those of the people I mention.
In particular I don't like saying "#4 son". Kinda has the cadence of "#1 wife", as in the Chinese household hierarchy of lore...
I must consider this carefully because I can't tell a story when I'm worrying that I'm bringing to mind polygamy.
And the vision of a big-bellied buddha-like male of means who thinks this is all ok. Although Yul Brynner was pretty impressive on "The King and I".
So, [getting back to my point] gotta figure out what to call whom.
Then I can proceed.
I am uneasy with using vague references in order to preserve privacy, mine and those of the people I mention.
In particular I don't like saying "#4 son". Kinda has the cadence of "#1 wife", as in the Chinese household hierarchy of lore...
I must consider this carefully because I can't tell a story when I'm worrying that I'm bringing to mind polygamy.
And the vision of a big-bellied buddha-like male of means who thinks this is all ok. Although Yul Brynner was pretty impressive on "The King and I".
So, [getting back to my point] gotta figure out what to call whom.
Then I can proceed.
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