No, not vinegar, if you read that a bit too fast. It's Winegar, my Grandma Rice's maiden name. Grandmas can do or say anything and still remain magical. And thank goodness for that!
I used to meander over to her house next door every day to visit, sometimes more than once. It was a good setup. She never got tired of telling stories and I never got tired of hearing them. One was the story about her brother, Clarence, and the pig thing. She also told me about some Roman cows her dad (William Wesley Winegar) had. I knew about Holsteins, Herefords, Charolais, Jerseys, Angus, and even Texas Longhorn cows and could name the four stomachs of a cow (still can), but it took me sometime to realize she was talking about some roamin' cows her dad had; the rest of the story escapes me.
Another great tale Grandma told was Episode 2 of My Brother Clarence. I'm not really sure which grandpa it was who provided Clarence with enough weapons to be a contestant on Top Shot, but good old Grandpa-What's-His-Name gave Clarence a BB gun when he was about eight or ten. I'm guessing it was sometime after the knife episode. That would mean Grandma was about six or eight.
Grandpa Winegar had a colorful prize rooster. One day when their dad was gone, Clarence brought out his new BB gun and challenged Grandma to shoot the rooster. She knew she couldn't possibly hit it, and to keep him from any other creative ideas, she just raised the rifle and made a random shot. They both saw the rooster do a big back flip and nosedive into the field. (Neither of them had realized they were related to Annie Oakley.)
Clarence was speechless at first, as was Grandma, until he had her make a pact to never ever say a word about it to anyone! She immediately agreed and told me that they never mentioned it during his lifetime. But she does recall her dad saying over and over: "I wonder where my prize rooster went!"
I don't recall the full story but she did say that one time she had a deep cut from a scythe (this is where Clarence would get the blame whether he did it or not). She said it was bleeding a lot. She had an uncle there who was a tobacco chewer. He spit out a big blob and slapped it on her finger and told her to leave it there. Apparently, it's true that the same thing that can eat your lip and throat away with cancer can also cure cuts. Maybe it has to do with timing. She became a believer, but as far as I knew, she never took up chewing tobacco.
She told of how the kids in the family would spend early summer hours out in the garden picking raspberries which their dad would then drive down from Farmington to Bountiful or Salt Lake to sell midday. The kids would get paid 1 cent for every basket full they picked, the same price my sibs and I got for cleaning off eggs to take to the Preston Co-op to sell or trade. So much for inflation.
Another thing about Grandma Rice. She was a World Class Worry Wart. She would call to see if we could get her some items when we went up to the store. We said yes and walked over to get the list and her purse with the little clasp. She had all the items written on a note inside the purse. She would remove the list and walk through it item by item just so there was no mistake. As soon as we would get back to our house, she would be on the phone seeing if we had arrived and have us read back the list to her. It was way annoying, but such is life.
Love you Grandma. You taught me everything I know about newspapers and vinegar.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Someone's in the Kitchen
Tee and I went to the store Monday to get stocked up on grub for the week. I told her to get what she wanted and would eat. We spent a good ten minutes just in the vegetable section, longer than I've spent there thus far this year.
She was asking me questions like "Where is the fresh basil?" I said, "Do they make fresh basil? Isn't that some kind of spice?" I learned that there are more than two types of vinegar (white and dark, one to clean the tub and one to make Christmas taffy). There is actually a product called balsamic vinegar. I have no idea what one would do with it. We got olive oil (that stuff is expensive!) and soy sauce, or something like that.
She got two each of three kinds of peppers. I have no idea their differences, but they do make the inside of the fridge pretty. She got eight tomatoes. What would one do with eight tomatoes if they're not making a batch of salsa? We bought a "clove" of garlic. What garlic has to do with cloves is beyond me. I thought it came in salt form to put on garlic bread.
We both sort of rolled our eyes :o)
She was asking me questions like "Where is the fresh basil?" I said, "Do they make fresh basil? Isn't that some kind of spice?" I learned that there are more than two types of vinegar (white and dark, one to clean the tub and one to make Christmas taffy). There is actually a product called balsamic vinegar. I have no idea what one would do with it. We got olive oil (that stuff is expensive!) and soy sauce, or something like that.
She got two each of three kinds of peppers. I have no idea their differences, but they do make the inside of the fridge pretty. She got eight tomatoes. What would one do with eight tomatoes if they're not making a batch of salsa? We bought a "clove" of garlic. What garlic has to do with cloves is beyond me. I thought it came in salt form to put on garlic bread.
We both sort of rolled our eyes :o)
Friday, June 24, 2011
The Promised Story, entitled: "This Explains A Lot"
The Difference Between Men & Women
Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts. They have a pretty good time. A few nights later, he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they are driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"
There is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward...I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we headed toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?
And Roger is thinking...so that means it was...let's see...February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means...lemme check the odometer...Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.
And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed--even before I sense it--that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600!
And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. Oh, I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs.
And Elaine is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly to care about, a person who seems to truly care about me...a person who is in pain because of my self-centered school-girl romantic fantasy.
And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty! I'll take their warranty and put it you know where.
"Roger," Elaine says aloud.
"What?" says Roger, startled.
"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. Maybe I should never have...Oh, I feel so..." (She breaks down sobbing.)
"What?" says Roger.
"I'm such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."
"There's no horse?" says Roger.
"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Elaine says.
"No!" says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.
"It's just that..it's that I...I need more time," Elaine says.
(There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)
"Yes," he says.
(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)
"Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?" she says.
"What way?" says Roger.
"That way about time," says Elaine.
"Oh," says Roger. "Yes."
(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
"Thank you, Roger," she says.
"Thank you," says Roger.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn...whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it. (This is also Roger's policy regarding world hunger.)
The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions but never getting bored with it either.
Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown and say:
"Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?"
Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts. They have a pretty good time. A few nights later, he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they are driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"
There is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward...I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we headed toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?
And Roger is thinking...so that means it was...let's see...February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means...lemme check the odometer...Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.
And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed--even before I sense it--that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600!
And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. Oh, I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs.
And Elaine is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly to care about, a person who seems to truly care about me...a person who is in pain because of my self-centered school-girl romantic fantasy.
And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty! I'll take their warranty and put it you know where.
"Roger," Elaine says aloud.
"What?" says Roger, startled.
"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. Maybe I should never have...Oh, I feel so..." (She breaks down sobbing.)
"What?" says Roger.
"I'm such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."
"There's no horse?" says Roger.
"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Elaine says.
"No!" says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.
"It's just that..it's that I...I need more time," Elaine says.
(There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)
"Yes," he says.
(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)
"Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?" she says.
"What way?" says Roger.
"That way about time," says Elaine.
"Oh," says Roger. "Yes."
(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
"Thank you, Roger," she says.
"Thank you," says Roger.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn...whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it. (This is also Roger's policy regarding world hunger.)
The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions but never getting bored with it either.
Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown and say:
"Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?"
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Father's Day
In honor of my dad on my first Father's Day without being able to send him a card, here are some of my favorite photos of him:
THANKS, DAD!
THANKS, DAD!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
The Day After the Night Before...
'Twas the first day of retirement, and all through the house,
Not a feline was stirring to track down a mouse.
The clothes were all flung on the floor without care,
No threat Martha Stewart would be stopping there.
The retiree was nestled all snug in her bed
While visions of nothing danced round in her head.
The pin that says “don’t work” clipped onto her cap,
She’d just settled down to begin a new nap
When out in the yard there arose a bird clatter.
She pulled up the covers, said “This doesn’t matter.”
Away to the shower in turtle-like flash,
She opened one eye,
Slowly peeked through one lash.
The sun through the pane of the window shone bright
And was so overpow’ring, she shut that orb tight.
When, what to her mind came a thought of such joy:
I don’t have to go to the office. Oh Boy!
With a little hair gel and some bottled-up tan
I took my own sweet time…Because I just can.
More rapid than eagles the morning flew by
As I rested and rested and rested…Oh my!
Now Shin Splints and Joint Aches and Stress-o-the-mind
Please give me a break, do. I ask you “Be kind.”
Then up to the bookstore the Pontiac flew
To browse through the paintings
And buy one or two.
Right then in a twinkling I got my first hunch
That it was ok to take me out to lunch!
Walked into my house and was turning around,
Saw the candy and lotions and flow’rs that abound;
My eyes, how they twinkled.
They knew I was free.
If my hair stands straight up,
It's nothing to me.
My lips are drawn up in a smile-like bow.
No more of those phone calls, with tales of sad woe.
No more chiseling ice off the windows each morn,
No leaving the kids all home looking forlorn.
“To do” lists lie waiting with no one to care.
Maybe I’ll do them…or they might stay there.
So, eating the brownies they sent home with me
And doing not one thing, particularly,
I’m not in a rush now; go everywhere late.
It is what it is…
And oh yeah, it is great!
Not a feline was stirring to track down a mouse.
The clothes were all flung on the floor without care,
No threat Martha Stewart would be stopping there.
The retiree was nestled all snug in her bed
While visions of nothing danced round in her head.
The pin that says “don’t work” clipped onto her cap,
She’d just settled down to begin a new nap
When out in the yard there arose a bird clatter.
She pulled up the covers, said “This doesn’t matter.”
Away to the shower in turtle-like flash,
She opened one eye,
Slowly peeked through one lash.
The sun through the pane of the window shone bright
And was so overpow’ring, she shut that orb tight.
When, what to her mind came a thought of such joy:
I don’t have to go to the office. Oh Boy!
With a little hair gel and some bottled-up tan
I took my own sweet time…Because I just can.
More rapid than eagles the morning flew by
As I rested and rested and rested…Oh my!
Now Shin Splints and Joint Aches and Stress-o-the-mind
Please give me a break, do. I ask you “Be kind.”
Then up to the bookstore the Pontiac flew
To browse through the paintings
And buy one or two.
Right then in a twinkling I got my first hunch
That it was ok to take me out to lunch!
Walked into my house and was turning around,
Saw the candy and lotions and flow’rs that abound;
My eyes, how they twinkled.
They knew I was free.
If my hair stands straight up,
It's nothing to me.
My lips are drawn up in a smile-like bow.
No more of those phone calls, with tales of sad woe.
No more chiseling ice off the windows each morn,
No leaving the kids all home looking forlorn.
“To do” lists lie waiting with no one to care.
Maybe I’ll do them…or they might stay there.
So, eating the brownies they sent home with me
And doing not one thing, particularly,
I’m not in a rush now; go everywhere late.
It is what it is…
And oh yeah, it is great!
Friday, May 13, 2011
Takin It Out...
Today is garbage day on our street.
In addition to the regular City rounds, Nik and I spent a good while today gathering up junk in the yard to take to the dump. We stacked up approximately one mountain & a half. It's amazing how stuff piles up, especially after a long, cold winter. It's also amazing to me how many rocks suddenly spring up from nowhere. The most amazing thing of all, however, is there are always snails out back. What are snails doing in the desert??? But, I guess if we can grow rocks, we can grow snails, right?
Today reminded me of a little happening from about three years back. I was on my way to work after lunch one day when I saw a little old man with a cane, (looked about my Dad's age) wrestling with one of those big, black roll-on-wheels garbage cans mandated by Orem about ten years ago. I pulled right over and stopped my car. Jumping out, I smiled and said "Here, let me help you with that!", grabbed hold of the garbage can, and started rolling it towards his house, cheerily asking him where he wanted it. He didn't let go easily. I thought maybe he wasn't used to anyone stopping, let alone a female. He didn't know I'm a farm girl from ages past, right?
Finally he said: "Well, I was just taking it out to the road. So we maneuvered it back out to the road, and every time I pass his house now, it makes me smile. I've seen him a couple more times dragging that thing out, or in, or out. Can't tell for sure.
In addition to the regular City rounds, Nik and I spent a good while today gathering up junk in the yard to take to the dump. We stacked up approximately one mountain & a half. It's amazing how stuff piles up, especially after a long, cold winter. It's also amazing to me how many rocks suddenly spring up from nowhere. The most amazing thing of all, however, is there are always snails out back. What are snails doing in the desert??? But, I guess if we can grow rocks, we can grow snails, right?
Today reminded me of a little happening from about three years back. I was on my way to work after lunch one day when I saw a little old man with a cane, (looked about my Dad's age) wrestling with one of those big, black roll-on-wheels garbage cans mandated by Orem about ten years ago. I pulled right over and stopped my car. Jumping out, I smiled and said "Here, let me help you with that!", grabbed hold of the garbage can, and started rolling it towards his house, cheerily asking him where he wanted it. He didn't let go easily. I thought maybe he wasn't used to anyone stopping, let alone a female. He didn't know I'm a farm girl from ages past, right?
Finally he said: "Well, I was just taking it out to the road. So we maneuvered it back out to the road, and every time I pass his house now, it makes me smile. I've seen him a couple more times dragging that thing out, or in, or out. Can't tell for sure.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Mother's Day 2011
This Mother’s Day, I decided to share some of my life-lessons, in hopes that the stepping stones in your own life aren’t as far apart as mine.
1-We all want “things”, but when it comes down to the wire, we would surrender them all just to have our loved ones by our side.
2-Take care of your body, better than you care for your car, or your kitchenware, or your gun. Feed it, water it, and rest it.
3-Tell your loved ones daily-- and out loud-- that you love them,
or they will think you don’t.
4-Take time for old & young. They give hope & faith to the world.
5-Count your blessings when you’re counting your troubles and you will realize that you’re better off than you thought.
6-Keep trying. Keep learning. Keep praying. Keep track of where your tongue is when you are angry or tired.
7-Serve in both small & large ways …and all the ways in between.
Christ meant it when he said “Even as you do it unto the least of these…you do it unto me.” And accept service when you need it.
8-When you find yourself up against a brick wall, don’t panic. Take a deep breath & chip out a brick or two. You don’t have to do it all at once.
9-Say you’re sorry, even sometimes when you’re right, then let it go. Good karma will circle back to you one day.
10-Do not let other’s actions or the news reports determine your course. A wise person doesn’t let interference draw their map.
11-Know that wherever you are, or how stressed or lonely you feel at any given moment, you are truly loved by someone who would miss you..
12-Take some time every single week to do something purely fun.
1-We all want “things”, but when it comes down to the wire, we would surrender them all just to have our loved ones by our side.
2-Take care of your body, better than you care for your car, or your kitchenware, or your gun. Feed it, water it, and rest it.
3-Tell your loved ones daily-- and out loud-- that you love them,
or they will think you don’t.
4-Take time for old & young. They give hope & faith to the world.
5-Count your blessings when you’re counting your troubles and you will realize that you’re better off than you thought.
6-Keep trying. Keep learning. Keep praying. Keep track of where your tongue is when you are angry or tired.
7-Serve in both small & large ways …and all the ways in between.
Christ meant it when he said “Even as you do it unto the least of these…you do it unto me.” And accept service when you need it.
8-When you find yourself up against a brick wall, don’t panic. Take a deep breath & chip out a brick or two. You don’t have to do it all at once.
9-Say you’re sorry, even sometimes when you’re right, then let it go. Good karma will circle back to you one day.
10-Do not let other’s actions or the news reports determine your course. A wise person doesn’t let interference draw their map.
11-Know that wherever you are, or how stressed or lonely you feel at any given moment, you are truly loved by someone who would miss you..
12-Take some time every single week to do something purely fun.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
The Rest of the Story
I kept yesterday's post humorous so as not to be a Doomsdayer blogger. My post today is informative, regarding something a lot of us use in our homes that might be causing health issues.
For some time I've used those little Air Wick sprayers where you can pre-program the automatic sprays, 9 minutes, 13 minutes, 30 minutes, something like that. Well, I decided to get a smaller one to put in the spare room I'm organizing so Sherry and her family can have a comfortable place to sleep while they're here. Kyle and I spent sometime trying to figure out how to get the little set working. Nothing happened. It wouldn't spray out a thing. We even removed the batteries that came with the unit and put in ones I had just recharged. I put it in my car, thinking I'll just run in next time I'm near Kmart and exchange it for one that works. That would have been about a week ago.
A day or two later I got in my car and wondered if something had spilled out on the floor...lotion, maybe perfume, something. The odor wasn't really awful, but it wasn't what you'd want to wear, either. The next day it was worse, and I thought maybe it was the light bulbs also in the back seat waiting to make their way to the recycle store.
I checked daily to see if my radiator or air conditioning fluids had been seeping inside the car. I checked my spray-off-the-ice stuff. I even checked out the actual car deodorizer spray (spells like oranges). It was only Wed morning when I had to drive to Lehi to the dentist's office, with all the windows down and the heater on, that I realized it was that Air Wick thing in the front seat causing all the trouble. I locked it in the trunk inside a plastic bag and finally threw it in the garbage, though it pained me to release such a thing into the environment.
I had felt sick every time while riding to work, to lunch, back from lunch, home from work. Nights were worse. I felt like I was being poisoned, which was exactly what had been happening.
I developed a horrible dry cough, nausea, just feeling crumby and tired, smelling it, tasting it wherever I went. It felt like shards of glass were in my lungs. I tried rest, humidifier, drinking water water water, prescription Aleve for pain, and after I threw the thing out, it stopped getting worse.
Wed and Thur were terrible, where you feel like somebody should just come take you to the hospital please, but you don't because the co-pay is just scary. I had a doctor appointment with my regular doctor Friday Morning. He did testing, listening, demonstrating a little breathing apparatus and said: "It didn't turn into pneumonia, though it could have, so you're lucky. You have chemical burns in your lungs. I don't know how long it will take them to heal, but stay away from those types of products."
He was going to start me on a round of steroids, but I told him those "are from the devil himself. Thanks, but no thanks."
Each day is getting a bit better, and a weekend to rest has helped.
I'll be looking through my house to see what other items we have that can be dangerous, not to us, but to the environment as well.
So that's my story...to keep our eyes out for things that don't look like they could hurt us, but under certain circumstances can indeed poison us and cause permanent damage. Be careful of any chemical spray and dispose properly of anything that malfunctions or acts differently than you think it should.
oh, and ps. I lived to see another birthday.
For some time I've used those little Air Wick sprayers where you can pre-program the automatic sprays, 9 minutes, 13 minutes, 30 minutes, something like that. Well, I decided to get a smaller one to put in the spare room I'm organizing so Sherry and her family can have a comfortable place to sleep while they're here. Kyle and I spent sometime trying to figure out how to get the little set working. Nothing happened. It wouldn't spray out a thing. We even removed the batteries that came with the unit and put in ones I had just recharged. I put it in my car, thinking I'll just run in next time I'm near Kmart and exchange it for one that works. That would have been about a week ago.
A day or two later I got in my car and wondered if something had spilled out on the floor...lotion, maybe perfume, something. The odor wasn't really awful, but it wasn't what you'd want to wear, either. The next day it was worse, and I thought maybe it was the light bulbs also in the back seat waiting to make their way to the recycle store.
I checked daily to see if my radiator or air conditioning fluids had been seeping inside the car. I checked my spray-off-the-ice stuff. I even checked out the actual car deodorizer spray (spells like oranges). It was only Wed morning when I had to drive to Lehi to the dentist's office, with all the windows down and the heater on, that I realized it was that Air Wick thing in the front seat causing all the trouble. I locked it in the trunk inside a plastic bag and finally threw it in the garbage, though it pained me to release such a thing into the environment.
I had felt sick every time while riding to work, to lunch, back from lunch, home from work. Nights were worse. I felt like I was being poisoned, which was exactly what had been happening.
I developed a horrible dry cough, nausea, just feeling crumby and tired, smelling it, tasting it wherever I went. It felt like shards of glass were in my lungs. I tried rest, humidifier, drinking water water water, prescription Aleve for pain, and after I threw the thing out, it stopped getting worse.
Wed and Thur were terrible, where you feel like somebody should just come take you to the hospital please, but you don't because the co-pay is just scary. I had a doctor appointment with my regular doctor Friday Morning. He did testing, listening, demonstrating a little breathing apparatus and said: "It didn't turn into pneumonia, though it could have, so you're lucky. You have chemical burns in your lungs. I don't know how long it will take them to heal, but stay away from those types of products."
He was going to start me on a round of steroids, but I told him those "are from the devil himself. Thanks, but no thanks."
Each day is getting a bit better, and a weekend to rest has helped.
I'll be looking through my house to see what other items we have that can be dangerous, not to us, but to the environment as well.
So that's my story...to keep our eyes out for things that don't look like they could hurt us, but under certain circumstances can indeed poison us and cause permanent damage. Be careful of any chemical spray and dispose properly of anything that malfunctions or acts differently than you think it should.
oh, and ps. I lived to see another birthday.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
350 Degrees
That's the general cooking temperature at this altitude.
My mother used to put her store-bought bread in the oven, space being limited and all. I cannot tell you how many times I was baking cookies and preheated the oven without remembering mother's storage place. It was surely in the dozens. Every time I would be reminded by the smell of burning plastic. No matter how quickly you move to open that oven door, it's too late. Once that plastic starts melting, you can't save one slice of bread, and it smells up the kitchen for the rest of the day...not counting the fact there's no bread now. We just should have put a big sign right on the oven door, maybe hanging from the knob, as a reminder. Either that or found some other place to put the bread. Sorry, Mom.
For years I always wanted a big stuffed dog (not real). One year one of the kids gave me a huge fluffy stuffed sheep dog, grey and white. I was SO excited! It was about half as big as the real thing.
One day I preheated the oven to make cookies. A bit later there was this atrocious smell, like burning tires, only in the kitchen. Not long afterwards, I discovered that Kyle, probably 3 or so, had put my puppy in the oven. At first we didn't recognize it, because it looked like a burned hunk of coal about the size of a loaf of banana bread. It was pitiful.
No wonder I gave up cooking. The world is a safer place, no doubt.
My mother used to put her store-bought bread in the oven, space being limited and all. I cannot tell you how many times I was baking cookies and preheated the oven without remembering mother's storage place. It was surely in the dozens. Every time I would be reminded by the smell of burning plastic. No matter how quickly you move to open that oven door, it's too late. Once that plastic starts melting, you can't save one slice of bread, and it smells up the kitchen for the rest of the day...not counting the fact there's no bread now. We just should have put a big sign right on the oven door, maybe hanging from the knob, as a reminder. Either that or found some other place to put the bread. Sorry, Mom.
For years I always wanted a big stuffed dog (not real). One year one of the kids gave me a huge fluffy stuffed sheep dog, grey and white. I was SO excited! It was about half as big as the real thing.
One day I preheated the oven to make cookies. A bit later there was this atrocious smell, like burning tires, only in the kitchen. Not long afterwards, I discovered that Kyle, probably 3 or so, had put my puppy in the oven. At first we didn't recognize it, because it looked like a burned hunk of coal about the size of a loaf of banana bread. It was pitiful.
No wonder I gave up cooking. The world is a safer place, no doubt.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Hide and Go Seek...
I assume kids still play this game, not the version with babies where you play "peek a boo," nor the one where kids hide under the covers with their foot sticking out and think you can't see them. This is the more serious game.
Our neighbors directly to the north through the field, were the Williams, a wonderful family. They had two older boys, then Dwight and Anna. Dwight was a year or two older than I and Anna somewhat younger.
One day we were playing this game in their yard, and Anna was "It." They had a garage out back of their house that actually used to be a home. Dwight had a great idea for a place to hide. He led me to the kitchen in this old home and showed me my hiding place...an old flour storage drawer that would tip out from the top when you pulled the handle. I can't think of what to compare it with and doubt they make them anymore. They used to dump a big bag of flour into it, probably 25 pounds, because everybody baked back then and they needed it handy.
Anyway, he somehow talked me into squeezing into this bizarre bin, shut the drawer and then hopped up into the top shelf of the cupboards and locked himself in somehow, on purpose mind you. We heard Anna come outside and call our names for several minutes. Boy, did we fool her! She didn't even get close to our hiding place. Her heart not really being into the game, she got tired of looking and went back inside the main house. She probably thought we had run away and left her alone, like older siblings do sometimes.
A few minutes later I told Dwight that I needed to get out of there real soon (being cramped in like a sardine, knees and elbows bent) He said he was having "a bit of a problem." The lock to his location was very tight and he couldn't reach it. I tried and tried and tried and tried to throw my body forward enough to tip the drawer open but couldn't use my bent arms to grab anything, so the drawer just fell back into place over and over and over and over.
He tried to cheer me up by saying he'd keep working on it, and his parents should be home in a bit. After what felt like HOURS but was probably half an hour, we heard his parents arrive. They got out of their car and were talking to each other. Both of us yelled over and over at the top of our lungs, HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! They heard voices and came searching.
After they helped me out, I ran home as fast as my bent body would let me, didn't even stop to say "bye" or "thanks for the fun". I also didn't want to wait around for any whopping Dwight may have gotten. He was pretty tough, though. He used to run all the way through the hayfield barefoot, even over rocks and fencing. Very bright kid. He actually became an emergency room doctor. Maybe he felt like he wanted to spend his life trying to save people's lives to make up for the time ours came close to ending. (If you ever read this, Dwight, it's ok. I've long since forgiven you HA and hope you didn't get a whopping after all :o)
Kids! It's lucky any of them survive.
Our neighbors directly to the north through the field, were the Williams, a wonderful family. They had two older boys, then Dwight and Anna. Dwight was a year or two older than I and Anna somewhat younger.
One day we were playing this game in their yard, and Anna was "It." They had a garage out back of their house that actually used to be a home. Dwight had a great idea for a place to hide. He led me to the kitchen in this old home and showed me my hiding place...an old flour storage drawer that would tip out from the top when you pulled the handle. I can't think of what to compare it with and doubt they make them anymore. They used to dump a big bag of flour into it, probably 25 pounds, because everybody baked back then and they needed it handy.
Anyway, he somehow talked me into squeezing into this bizarre bin, shut the drawer and then hopped up into the top shelf of the cupboards and locked himself in somehow, on purpose mind you. We heard Anna come outside and call our names for several minutes. Boy, did we fool her! She didn't even get close to our hiding place. Her heart not really being into the game, she got tired of looking and went back inside the main house. She probably thought we had run away and left her alone, like older siblings do sometimes.
A few minutes later I told Dwight that I needed to get out of there real soon (being cramped in like a sardine, knees and elbows bent) He said he was having "a bit of a problem." The lock to his location was very tight and he couldn't reach it. I tried and tried and tried and tried to throw my body forward enough to tip the drawer open but couldn't use my bent arms to grab anything, so the drawer just fell back into place over and over and over and over.
He tried to cheer me up by saying he'd keep working on it, and his parents should be home in a bit. After what felt like HOURS but was probably half an hour, we heard his parents arrive. They got out of their car and were talking to each other. Both of us yelled over and over at the top of our lungs, HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! They heard voices and came searching.
After they helped me out, I ran home as fast as my bent body would let me, didn't even stop to say "bye" or "thanks for the fun". I also didn't want to wait around for any whopping Dwight may have gotten. He was pretty tough, though. He used to run all the way through the hayfield barefoot, even over rocks and fencing. Very bright kid. He actually became an emergency room doctor. Maybe he felt like he wanted to spend his life trying to save people's lives to make up for the time ours came close to ending. (If you ever read this, Dwight, it's ok. I've long since forgiven you HA and hope you didn't get a whopping after all :o)
Kids! It's lucky any of them survive.
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