When I was a wee lass, I pushed our big naugahyde ottoman into the fireplace. I said I didn’t mean to–it had wheels and I was playing truck driver or something (but Mom still thinks I did it on purpose). The ottoman had to be re-upholstered and Mom had the hearth built up so I couldn’t push anything else into the fire.
And when I was going through my “I want to be a cowboy” stage, I tried to cook something over an open fire–meaning I took one of Mom’s frying pans (not shiny and new, but still one of her good pans) and tried to hold it over the fire in the fireplace. I think I was trying to cook bacon, or maybe ham (but certainly not goat). It didn’t work–my hand was too close to the heat so I dropped the pan and things went downhill from there.
Heh. I set fire to the stove this weekend. Well, it wasn’t really my fault, because I went out with a friend Fri. night, leaving Autumn and her man to fend for themselves in the kitchen (I usually do most of the cooking. The kitchen is my job; they do others). One of them must have spilled something on the burner, because when I went to cook an egg for breakfast Sat. morning (oh, who am I kidding? Sat. afternoon) it burst into flame. Since it’s an electric stove, this is somewhat unusual. I took the pan off and watched it burn for a minute, figuring it would burn itself out, but when it didn’t, I threw some baking soda over it. Now I have to replace the pan under the burner, stupid cheap thing.
And you can have your shiny skillets or saute pans or whatever they are calling them this year; I’ll keep my good old cast iron, thankyouverymuch!
I realize that I’m really, really late to this one, but can I play with the cool kids anyway?
The way this thread is going, I just don’t think I have much to contribute. After all, I have no children, I have no idea what to do with cooking implements, and I got a belly full of dealing with stinky old animals when I was a kid.
What can I use here? Let’s see.
“Older siblings tormenting younger siblings.” Nope, I already shot everything I had a that one. Months ago.
“Bacon.” That’s a good topic, and I can see certain people running with it, but I’m at a loss. Sure, I love to get up on a Sunday morning and do up some french toast (vanilla extract in the egg batter, that’s the trick) or pancakes (not those English pancakes, which are what we Americans call “crepes,” but real Yankee pancakes. I prefer buckwheat with lots of maple syrup.) and side it with some crisp, tasty bacon. Mmmm… bacon. But it’s not a religous attachment or anything, I mean, really, I won’t die without bacon, so I got nothin’. Even though bacon is really, really good.
“Me spending too much time dismissing ‘bacon’ as a topic.” Well, no. I think others will do better.
“Taking a gratuitous shot at Ellen for no particular reason.” Heck no, I’d never do that. Ellen is a princess.
Ditto FairyChatMom.
“Slamming welby.” This one has potential, because I’m starting to get good at it. Unfortunately, this is also one of those tired themes.
“Complaining that the woman who agreed to marry me (Kalessa) has evidently forgotten that I exist.” Well, really, what’s the point?
Frying pans? What, in the name of God, am I supposed to do with frying pans?
See?
You come in late to a Rue MMP thread, you get left behind.
Darlin’, I won’t forget you exist if you remember how to spell my name.
Seriously, Exgineer, I’m still waiting to hear how you feel about dove grey morning suits and if you want an indoor or an outdoor wedding.
I am fond of bacon, although I’m not much of a pancake or French toast consumer. Will our marriage fail if I eat an omelet (and bacon) on Sundays (late Sunday mornings, btw), while you have pancakes or French toast? Can a marriage survive such a difference in breakfast preferences? And what about dinner? What if we can’t agree on a meatloaf recipe??!! What if you eat goat??!! Can we still find happiness and true love??
Wow! You duck out for a while and you miss all kinds of stuff.
It’s a boy by the way. 6 lbs and 18 1/2" long, which is over the legal limit, so we get to keep him. Well, they get to keep him. The parents I mean, Bumbadaughter and BumbaSIL. We’re just the grandparents, so we just get to borrow him sometimes, and get him all wound up, and then send him back.
Anyway, that’s where I was, at the hospital.
Rue I didn’t e-mail you either, so I’d say we’re even, if we weren’t so odd.
Kallessa dear girl, I was raised up in the deep South, where 12 is marryin age, lessen you’ns is alredy re-lated, then it’s 9. But as delightful as the prospect might be, alas, it is not to be. Sides, you is alredy spokin fer.
yes, I do know how to spell. I was just trying to elicit the flavor of the old south, y’all FCM too much garlic? There is no such thing!
exgineer I will unhand your betrothed, hereinafter referred to as the party of the first pants, forthwith and shall not trifle with her affections henceforth, albeit an onerous task, foresooth.
I like * foresooth*, I don’t know what it means, but I like it.
I woulda put aforementioned in there too but it wouldn’t fit.
Exgineer I don’t know what you can do with frying pans in the name of God either. I did want to do something in the name of God once though. Do you remember when Oral Roberts was going around saying that if folks didn’t send him a whole bunch of money God was gonna call him home?
Well, I was gonna shoot him, and then tell the jury that God spoke to me and said ** “Bumba, I want you to send Oral home now, ya’hear?”** That’s how I imagine God talks, in 24 point times new roman.
Anyway, I was gonna perform that little service in the name of God.
Someday I’ll tell y’all how we set fire to our yard.
Well, what’s lower than dust? 'Cause I guess that’s where I am presently.
In my defense, it’s been a hectic week at work. A hectic workweek as it were. We just started doing hepatitis testing and boy, are there a lot of tests to run. What have all these people been doing anyway?
I actually have cookware. See?
(That one fell off the front page so fast there was a cybersonic boom. Perhaps you heard it?) Anyway, I just finished using my dandy cast iron frying pan a little while ago. I fried up a couple of slices of smoky slab bacon. Because I like it you know. Then there was this lovely bacon grease left in the pan so I threw in some onions and yellow squash and fried them too. Tasty. Lest you worry about my dietary intake of saturated fats let me hasten to add that I only do this about twice a month.
So what’s next? Oh, older sibling torment, I’m so there. My older brother ragged on me so much that I still suffer aftereffects. Just last night I dreamt that I was in prison and he called me up to tell me how much I messed up.
Let’s see, I’ve covered bacon and frying pans. Don’t know anything much about goats… so I guess stick a fork in me, I’m done.
Anyway, congrats on the baby a generation removed Bumba. (Although I read “BumbaSIL” as “sister in law” which really had me confused until I hit the “raised up in the deep South” part. Then I though “eh, I guess some of the stereotypes are true”. Then I realized the “s” in “SIL” could just as easily be for “son” and the whole thing got a little less interesting.)
-Rue. (interested, really)
Note to self: never, ever mispell Kallessa’s name again. Uh… it was a typo. Yeah, that’s it.
Dove grey is fine, although I usually go with darker colors for formal wear. Anything white, for example, is completely out of the question. Combined with my fish-belly white complexion, a white suit is a recipe for “blinding glare.” Plus, it gives the impression that my butt is actually a drive-in movie screen.
I like omeletes just fine, so that’s no problem as long as I can have my pancakes and french toast (freedom toast? nah) once in a while. With syrup. And I’ve eaten goat cheese in the past, but never goat proper. Those things are lawnmowers and fertilizer factories, not food.
Congrats on the grandkid Bumbazine. Don’t feel bad about your vocabulary. I don’t know what “unhand,” “betrothed,” or “is” mean. If you can’t perform a Fourier transform on it it’s Greek to me.
That’s all I’m going to say about mathematics, though. I wouldn’t want to irritate Ellen.
On Wednesday we decided on an impromptu trip to Disney World. Our kids have never been, even though we’ve been to Florida about a zillion times, what with both of our families here and everything. Something about the insane lines, distracted/rude people, heat and humidity. Did I mention the lines? Anyway, the one ride with almost no line and very nice and cool inside, has a certain song. A song which cannot be removed from the head once that it enters…
…It’s a small world after all, it’s a small world after all,
it’s a small world after all, it’s a small, small world!!
ShibbOleth, you are an evil, evil person. and why bother with the spoiler box, as if you intended to spare some of us. As soon as you mentioned DisneyWorld, our fates were doomed. Or rather, our ears.
When I was a little kid my aunt brought me the records of that infernal tune from one of her Disney trips. I liked the pictures in the book but wasn’t exceptionally fond of the music. I did like playing the records on the wrong speeds though and having the chipmunk serenade
Congrats, BumbaGranpaw!! How very exciting! Incidentally, I sent you an email - Miss Moose shall be winging your way courtesy of the US Postal Service as soon as the Orange Park office gets her box sorted and sent. Be on the lookout.
I’ve been to Disney, and if I never have to go again, I’ll die a happy woman. However, if the Perfect Child[sup]TM[/sup] goes to EPCOT again with her chorus to sing in the Candlelight Processional, I will attend that. But that’s all.
I’ve never been to Disney World, but I’ve been to DisneyLand 4 or 5 times. I love amusement parks, and the trick to DisneyLand is to go between mid-January to late February (skipping Presidents’ Day weekend). It’s a non-tourist period, and southern Californians are aliens who fear water falling from the sky so they don’t come to the park then either. In doesn’t rain very much even in February anyway, and when it does rain, there are enough inside rides that your fun never has to stop. I rode one of the major roller coasters (Space Mountain?) three or four times in one afternoon–no lines at all.
What I don’t understand is parents who take their kids (baby humans, not baby goats) to a theme park before the kids are at least six. At three or four, they can’t go on a lot of the rides, and they won’t remember the trip. I first went when I was 8 and I remember it clearly, and I got to ride everything! And I could stay all day at the park without needing a nap. I guess if you live in the area, it wouldn’t be a big deal, but I have friends that are planning to fly to Florida to take their children to DisneyWorld, and the oldest kid is only 5 (and a 2 yr old). Is anyone really going to have fun on this trip? Why not wait three years–the oldest will still be young enough to enjoy it, and the youngest will be old enough to enjoy most of it.
