The Barefoot Kitchen Witch

Before I Get to the Food Posts…

Got a surprise yesterday.

A nice one.

Now, earlier I’d picked up a few things for the family for little Valentine’s Day gifts.  Some M&Ms for the kids, a little pink stuffed hippo for Julia, a Beyblade for Alex.  And a bag of Willie Wonka Heart-shaped Gobstoppers for Bill.  He loves that stuff.  And I figured I’d make a nice dinner, so I picked up stuff for that as well. 

Romance Amid the Mucus

I know, that’s the kind of post title that just reaches out and yanks you right in, isn’t it?

Well, as you probably know, thanks to my moments of whining in recent posts, I’ve been sick, and Bill’s been sick.  For two and a half weeks.  It just started out with simple colds – annoying but tolerable.  But they just lingered, and lingered, and I’ve had aches and hoarseness and then my voice went completely for a couple of days and Bill had terrible sinus headaches.

Anyway, on Monday I thought I was getting better.  Sure, I couldn’t talk, but physically I felt a lot healthier.  So what did I do?  I spent most of the day running around the house cleaning.  Cleaning surfaces with germ-killing wipes, emptying every speck of trash, cleaning floors, dusting, vacuuming, doing laundry…and despite the fact that the power went out about 3 times due to all the crazy wind we had around here, I got a lot done.

And then Tuesday morning I felt much worse.  Of course.  My voice was back, kind of, but everything else felt horrible again.  And Bill still had the remains of a sinus headache he’d had the night before.

I told him I couldn’t take this any more, and I was going to the doctor’s.  He called in sick – very reluctantly – he HATES calling in sick – and said he’d go to the doctor, too.

Now, by doctor, we mean the walk-in clinic in town.  We’ve gone to them for years, so they pretty much ARE our regular doctors. 

Anyway, so I think Bill said, “Hey, we could go together!”  And I said, “Yeah, it’ll be a date!”  And really, it’s probably the first time in a long time we’ve done something together without the kids.

We don’t plan well, I guess.  We talk about going out and getting a sitter, but then we forget about it and end up doing other things. 

So really, this was our chance.

We slept in a little bit, or dozed and grumbled about how sick we are of feeling sick (because what’s more romantic than sharing the same cranky feelings?) and finally got up, had coffee, fed the kids, and dropped them off at school.

At last!  Our date!

So with a song in our hearts, congestion in our heads, and supplies of tissues clutched in our hands, we skipped out the door to the car and were on our merry way.

Bill brought a magazine and I brought a sketch pad, because the reading material in the waiting room consists of past issues of WebMD and Car and Driver or something like it.  Occasionally they have the morning paper or some other magazine, but really, there’s not a lot to choose from.

I said to Bill that if he wanted to go first, that was okay with me, since he gets fidgety when he has to wait more than, oh, three seconds, for anything.  But he generously declined my offer, explaining that he had his magazine (latest copy of “Brew Your Own”) and he would be fine. 

“I really don’t mind,” I said.

“No, that’s okay, you can go first,” he told me.

We smiled googly-eyed at each other and headed into the building, where we were surprised and delighted to discover that there was no one else there!  Yay, no waiting!

I zipped past Bill to sign us in, and I put his name first, because I like to get my way when I’m trying to be generous.  He thought I’d just signed myself in, so he went over to write his name in and – Surprise! – he was already on there.  He just gave me a very patient and bemused look as he sat down beside me. 

The tv was blaring some morning show too loudly, but we didn’t watch that; Bill opened his magazine and I grabbed a battered copy of People or Entertainment Weekly – I didn’t look.  I just figured it would be perfect for the short amount of time we’d have to wait.

I started reading about various famous people and their escapades, and Bill perused beer recipes and articles about oh, different types of hops or something.  Then his name was called, so he went up to the little window to tell the receptionist why he was there.  I guess he explained to her that we were both there not because we were really sick, but that it was because we don’t get out together much.  I confirmed this and told her this is a big date for us.  I told her my symptoms – pretty much the same as his – and she had me sign the paperwork and told me, as I got my wallet out to hand over the co-pay, that Bill had already paid for me.  He’s a sweet guy.

“Thank you, honey!”  I yelled.

Then the receptionist asked if we both wanted to go in together, and I had to laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

“Do we want to go in together?”  I asked Bill.

“Sure,” he said. 

“Okay,” I told the receptionist. 

Pretty soon the door opened and we were called in to the first room, where they take your pulse and blood pressure and temperature.  Bill went first, and when it was my turn to sit on the gurney, a nurse going by in the hall outside saw me and called in “You had the baby?”

I looked at her, and I think she’s been there for a while, but, well, the last time I had a baby was six and a half years ago…does she really remember me from some visit way back then?  Or does she think I’m someone else.

“Um…well, yes – eight and six years ago,” I replied politely.

She sort of shook her head and laughed.  “Two boys?”

“Boy and a girl,” I told her.

She said something approving and congratulatory and may have mentioned how time flies, before heading on her way.

It was a strange little interlude.

Next, we were off to our shared exam room, where we would wait our turns to be x-rayed.  They were only going to x-ray Bill’s head (oh, the jokes we could have made about the contents – but we didn’t, because we were on a DATE), but they were going to do both my head and chest, so I had to remove my clothes from the waist up and don a johnny. 

Didn’t realize the joint had a dress code.

So I switched garments, and we settled in with reading material (I never ended up sketching anything) until it was time for our internal portraits.  Bill went first, then me, and you know, I’ll admit this silly little thing to you – I take a certain amount of pride in being able to hold VERY still when my picture – internal or external – is being taken.  I think it comes from having a photographer for a father.  Sit very still.  Turn your head just a bit this way.  Lift your chin, now hold.  Don’t move!  Just like that.  Good!

I’m very good at holding my poses.

Yes, all those little thoughts danced through my head as I held very still and held my breath while the three x-rays (one head and two chest) were shot.

Then it was back to the room to wait some more.

The doctor came in, and though he’s seen me before, it’s never been with Bill.  Bill was there for some other matter not too long ago, but I haven’t been in ages, so he nodded at Bill and shook my hand and asked “Are you into music, too?”  I wasn’t expecting a non-symptom question, so it threw me for a second, but I quickly recovered and said “No, I just married into it.”  Har, har.

Anyway, he listened to my lungs, and told me there really wasn’t much to see in the x-rays of my chest, but both of us had swelling in our sinuses and whatever else we’ve go in our heads, so he prescribed, for both of us, a course of steroids to decrease the swelling, and an antibiotic to fight the evil infection.  He also prescribed some OTC decongestant/expectorant, but we had stuff at home so we didn’t fill that one.  Or, rather, those two.

And that was pretty much it.  Out of the building we skipped, multiple scrips in hand.  We swung through the drive-thru at CVS to drop them off, and then he brought me home.

Not much else to tell about the rest of the day.  For some reason I felt more and more wiped out as the day went on, and ended up taking a nap in the afternoon.  Bill was increasingly fidgety (he hates calling in sick – it triggers guilt reflexes and he feels he needs to DO SOMETHING to make for his slacker ways) so he decided to make the stock for another batch of pho, and make some kale and chard dish to freeze (and to use up our abundance of kale).  I did a few dishes and then took my nap.  Then it was time to get the kids from school.

And that was the end of our date.

Big Girl

She can scramble eggs, and stir them around in the pan herself.  She can also fry them, and flip them pretty well.

She likes to stand on a chair at the stove and stir ramen noodles, too. 

Lately she has been making her own peanutbutter and jam sandwiches as well.

Predator

Yesterday my husband decided - for some crazy reason - to clean the lizard poop off the piece of driftwood that's in the lizard's tank.

This would have been fine and dandy if we were talking about the OTHER lizard.  The one we used to have.  Before it died.  That lizard was small and friendly (I guess) and a pacifist, apart from that eating crickets thing.

This lizard, however, the one we still have?  He's a little scary.

Yeah, okay, he's only about ten inches long from nose to tail, but he's got a rather wide head and a big mouth with actual teeth in it.  Lots of teeth.  You should see what he does to an earthworm.  Ick.  I can't even watch.

Well anyway, I was in the kitchen doing sensible things like not sticking my arm in the lizard's tank when suddenly I heard, from the living room,

"He's on my hand!"

That was, of course, Bill. 

Alex let out a great "O-HO!" of laughter and Julia came running from wherever she'd been.  "Mommy!  The lizard's ON DADDY'S HAND!  Come see!"

So I sauntered into the other room, nearly dizzy from rolling my eyes so much (what now?), and beheld the following sight:

 

Here, let me zoom in a bit so you can see better.

No.  He doesn't like to cuddle.  Not that one.

Anyway, just in case you were worried, the lizard did not escape.  Bill squirted him with water until he scurried off Bill's hand and back into his little jungle.  The rest of the cleaning went off without incident.  

 

I was just IM-ing my sister about this guy, actually.  He was perched on his driftwood (Now Poop-Free!) a moment ago, just staring at me.  I think I saw him lick his lips, too, but I may have imagined that.  Anyway, I told Meredith about yesterday's excitement with the lizard on Bill's hand - and added that I took pictures.  And she typed "haha - of course you did."  Yeah, it's kind of a given.  So much so that after that little conversation I wondered what my priorities would be if we were, say, on a safari in Africa and Bill suddenly had, oh, a really big crocodile climbing up his hand.

Play Date - Times Two

Yesterday I barely looked at a computer or a camera.  Instead, I spent my day hitting the grocery store early and coming home and cooking for the menfolk.  And the kidfolk, too.