Getting Old

My dad called me today to see if I was alive since I hadn’t posted anything for so long.  My kids’ last day of school was last Wednesday and Will’s vacation week is this week … it’s been a little busy.  Then my dad told me that he wrote his obituary.  I thought it was an awesome idea and told him I was going to write my own as well.  I asked him if he had everything else set for his funeral yet.  I think he better get on that before Alzheimers sets in.   I figure that neither of us will escape it because my grandma had it.

With that in mind I asked him, “How much have you been forgetting lately?”

His response … “Not nearly enough.”

Happy Birthday Dad!

I bet I'm the first one to wish you a happy birthday.  I love you!

Reminders

My dad called me the other day. He asked me if I knew why he was calling. I didn’t. “Because it’s your husband’s birthday,” he told me.

I remembered this year, I informed him. I even made him a cake that contained 24 ounces of chocolate. My dad was worried because I forgot two years ago and my husband got a s’more for his birthday cake.

Now if he'd only call and remind me when it's my siblings' birthdays ... Dad, program that in!

TAD

My friend Marcy emailed me her status for the week. Numbers 2 and 3 on her list involved tadpole sitting. Apparently Tad made a break for it and almost escaped from his aquarium at 11:00pm. (He would have made it too, if he'd only waited a little longer. But since Marcy has a dog -- he may not have liked it for long!) All I can do is publically apologise. Sorry! And I will call Pet's Mart and yell at them for lying to me!

However, being in the dog house affected the next favor I was going to ask her for. She mentioned that she had and I quote "A. Lot. Of. Vegetables." Since she was picking up my share of veggies from the CSA; my dad had suggested I ask her to can or bottle some of the veggies for me. Now after the frog trama I imagine she'll say no. Great. There goes that idea.

During that same conversation with my dad he mentioned he'd sent me a recipe for collard greens and asked if I wanted a recipe for chittlins.

Dad. I can not imagine any concievable future in which I would ever WANT a recipe for chittlins. But I'll take the recipe for the greens. (And it might come in handy for Marcy this week.)

Awesome Collard Greens Recipe
Ingredients:
2 - 3 medium smoked ham hocks or 2 pounds smoked pork neck bones
5 pounds of collards or several large bunches (If you can't get them fresh, frozen will do.
2 teaspoon of salt

My favorite way to cook collard greens is very simple. I take 2 or 3 smoked ham hocks and put them in a large (6 quart) pot of water. Bring the water to a rolling boil and let it boil for about 1 1/2 hours. Add more water as it boils down. The idea is to boil the ham hocks until they begin to fall apart. You should always cook pork very thoroughly and use proper food handling techniques. You want the ham hocks to be falling apart before you add the collard greens.Take the collard greens and separate the leaves (if fresh) . Now rinse each leaf individually under cold running water. After you rinse the collard greens thoroughly, stack several leaves on top of each other. Roll these leaves together. Then slice the leaves into thin strips using a cutting board and large knife. Rolling them together speeds up the process as you are slicking through several leaves at once.

Next, add your collard greens to the pot. Since this is a lot of collards, you will need to add them until the pot is full. Then allow them to wilt as they cook - then add more. Add you salt, cover and cook for thirty minutes on medium heat. Stir every few minutes to distribute the smoked meat taste evenly. Taste to confirm they are the tenderness you prefer. Serve with your favorite meat dish such as chitterlings. Eat the ham hocks or neck bones right along with the collards.People in my neck of the woods usually sprinkle lots of hot sauce on their collards. I like them that way. Give it a try.Since this is a large pot full, just save the extras in the refrigerator. They should keep for a long time and actually get better as the juices settle in.

My Dad’s Pack of Dogs

My dad has a tractor. He’s had it for a while. But the problem with having a tractor is that eventually you have to have land to drive on with said tractor and dirt to push around with said tractor. So, eventually my parents bought a lot up in the mountains for the tractor.

The problem with having a lot in the mountains for a tractor is that eventually you have to do something with the lot besides push dirt around. Even though my dad had bought a trailer for the tractor so they could go on drives together the tractor still felt lonely. So my dad decided to build a shed for the tractor to live in. It was a big shed; big enough for the tractor and the little camper that could go on my dad’s truck to live in. And the tractor was content . . . for a while.

But the tractor was lonely and talked my dad into moving up on the mountain lot and building a house. The tractor thought they could have a lot of fun together – pushing dirt around and digging holes. And it was fun, but it made for a long commute for my mom.

Then my dad got a dog. He named him Buddy (which ironically I often call William). Buddy also liked to go on rides in the truck with my dad, but what he loved the most was riding on the tractor with my dad. He loved riding on the tractor enough that once he actually tried to bribe my dad into letting him ride on his tractor by bringing him a rabbit. Imagine that will you -- “See this rabbit . . . it’s yours for one little, itsy, bitsy ride. Come on, come on. It’s a great rabbit so it’s totally worth a ride!”

Well, if you have a tractor, shed, outbuildings, a dog and a partially built house the only thing left to do is start collecting animals. So, my dad got a pony and a mare. The pony is mostly content being a horse, but the mare thinks she’s a dog. She acts like a dog. She plays like a dog. She comes when my dad calls her. But she still hasn’t figured out how to climb in the back of my dad’s pickup and she’s jealous of Buddy when he drives off with my dad! Next my dad got a steer. The mare terrorizes the steer. She chases him and she won’t let him sleep in the little barn even in the middle of winter.

The other day my dad called me and told the mare and the dog were playing hide and go seek. I thought that was ridiculous until I remembered my children played hide and go seek in our two-bedroom apartment and Bri once got stuck in a garbage can. Clearly there is some kind of family cross-breed defect.

So, my dad has a dog who likes riding on the tractor, a mare who thinks she’s a dog, a pony that tags along and a steer that’s terrorized by the mare. It’s like some misbegotten Dr. Doolittle farm gone terribly wrong.

And while all this is going on, my dad is slowly breaking every bone in his body -- some of them twice. Seriously! I talk to him on the phone and he’ll casually mention, “Yeah, I don’t feel great. I broke my foot again.”

I blame it all on the tractor!

Conversation with my Dad

Dad: I’ll see you in a couple of days.

Me: Maybe.

Dad: What? You aren’t going to see me?

Me: No, I may not survive the plane ride.

Dad: Well, if I send $10 will you take out a life insurance policy and make me the beneficiary.

Me: Sure.

Dad: Because if you’re going to die anyway I could use the money.

Checking In

My dad is still calling me everyday. Either he’s worried that now I’m going mental because I’m trying to unpack and my four little slaves aren’t very helpful; or he’s concerned that my house is trying to drive us out. I’ve made up with my house (I think). I possibility, might have caused or imagined some of the problems; or perhaps, it was satisfied with the blood offering from my husband. If I had known that all it took was a little blood, I would have slit a vein the first day! But if that’s what it takes there’s enough routine bleeding with four kids that the house should be fine for years.

I freaked out my dad

The 911 post I wrote had him worried. He tried calling my cell and the home number but people like to chat with me on the day I’m moving (because apparently I don’t have enough to do) so I was in the backyard with Bri’s friend’s dad who was picking up his daughter. When I answered the phone the next time my dad called he said, “It was the house wasn’t it?”

“What?” I asked.

“The house hurt your husband, right?”

“Yes.”

I’ve convinced my dad the house is angry at us. He advised me to start threatening it with bodily harm it anything else breaks. I don’t think my dad realizes the amount of damage my children and I can inflict on the house in normal living conditions. Threatening it with more damage might cause it to have convulsions or a nervous breakdown. We would probably have to commit it to a mental hospital for evaluation. That would mean a longer commute for my husband and I’d have to change bus routes again so I think we will have to come to some sort of understanding. Perhaps it will feel better when I put away some of the boxes cluttering it up.

I think my dad is really worried because he figures if it came down to the house and me -- the house would win.

I am ½ completely thrilled with myself

It started a couple of weeks ago when I was watching Lost, Sawyer sarcastically asked Kate if she wanted him to make a mixed tape for her. That idea took hold of my brain and has not let go. My husband made me a couple of tapes while we were hanging out but I never reciprocated. I suck at some things like giving gifts and thoughtfulness. In some ways I’m kind of like a guy. My husband has never gotten anything from me for our anniversary (16 years, we got married young). I’ve actually forgotten it more than once. He can’t take it personally because I’ve also forgotten my own birthday. I can’t remember all my siblings’ birthdays either. (The only one whose birthday I know was born on Flag Day.)

I felt pretty bad when I realized that my mother’s birthday and Mother’s Day was in less than a week and I hadn’t done anything for her. I called my sister and asked her to get something and put my name on it. I still haven’t sent her any money, oops. If she took credit cards this would not be a problem! Now I have another problem, however, because it’s almost Father’s Day and I don’t have anything for my dad. I feel a little too sheepish to call my sister. In the future maybe I’ll ask for a revolving line of credit.

I’m not very good with gifts. I gave my husband socks for his birthday every year for ten years. At this point he has plenty, so now he doesn’t get anything. I asked what he wanted for Father’s Day. He gave me very specific instructions but . . . . we’re actually moving that day so he shouldn’t hold his breath; which brings me back full circle to my brilliance. I made him a mixed CD. He can listen to it during his six hour commute to Maryland and realize that yes, I am worth all the crap he has to put up with.

Uh, dad – Happy Father’s Day! Do you want a CD or do you take credit cards? BTW, I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything for your birthday either. You really may want to consider trading me in for a new daughter. (One of my sister-in-laws is extremely thoughtful. I’ll give you her number.)

Another conversation with my dad

Dad: "You're precious."
Me: "You're precious."
Dad: "We could be a candy bar."
Me: "Yeah."
Dad: "But what kind?"
Me: "Something with marshmallows." (because we're both fluffy)
Dad: "Chocolate, if it doesn't have chocolate I'm not involved."
Me: "And nuts."

A conversation with my dad

My dad: “I think I’m going to keep you.”

Me: “What you couldn’t sell me on the black market?”

My dad: “I put you up on EBay but I didn’t get any offers.”

Family Genetics AKA Superpowers

I’ve been having a lot of conversations with my dad lately, as he is concerned with my sanity lasting until we move into our house in June. The more I talk to him the more I realize how many genetic gifts I and my children have received from him. Recently he told me that he jumped off a roof in front of his friends when he was a kid. Brianne, also, as a young child jumped of the roof of my neighbor’s garage in front of her friend. I caught her the second time she jumped off. Chalk one up for genetics! Having the desire to jump off a roof coupled with the ability to survive. Sweet!