Sunday, May 31, 2009

Zoom zoom ZOOM

It is hard for me to decide the title of this post. Torn between "Zoom zoom ZOOM" (which in the end I picked,) or "RJ's first ride," or "I'm okay with this gene handed down," or "Here we go Aunt Amy."

Yesterday was a beautiful family day. Went to visit our friends at their cabin they are building in Ashford Washington. Continued down the highway and up to Paradise at Mt. Rainier. Fun, relaxing day. As we headed home, I suggested to James that he call Jimmy and see if they are at the Quarter Midget Track in Graham. Jimmy had said they would be practicing. James said he'd just stop by and if the gates were open we'd drive in and see if Jimmy and Jim were there.


(queue Jaws music for Aunt Amy.)

Sure enough, the Fergusons were there and had Jim's car out. We visited, played, fed Nitro, watched Jimmy (who IS Mr. Goodwrench) work on the cars.

Then it went something like this:

(queue the DUH DUM DUH DUM louder for Aunt Amy.)

Jimmy, "So Reyde do you want to try and drive the car?"
Reyde, "No thanks."
Jimmy, "But listen, I can make the motor sound really quiet and go slow. Like this."

(queue quarter midget motor sound starting quietly.)

James, "See buddy, it's pretty quiet."
Reyde, "No thanks."
Jimmy, "I think you should try it, it would be really fun."
Reyde, "No thanks."
Wendy, "Reyde, look at Mommy." (For when Mom wants full manipulation techniques to engage you must have eye contact.)
Reyde, "Yeah Mom?"
Wendy, "Remember in Sun Valley how you didn't want to go skiing?"
Reyde, "Yeah."
Wendy, "And remember HOW MUCH FUN you had after you tried it?"
Reyde, "Yeah."
Wendy, "And how you wanted to ski every day after that first day?"
Reyde, "Yeah."
Wendy, "Reyde, do you want to try driving the car?"
Reyde, "Yeah, okay."
Wendy, "Jimmy, he said okay, let's get him in the car."

And a racer is born. No, he was born December 14, 2002. 12-14-02. Numerology. 12+14+2=28, his Daddy's race car number.




video video

Friday, May 15, 2009

No, I haven't used my ice cream maker yet

Still missing Turbo. Went looking for a journal entry in Reyde's journal about Turbo and came across this one. I laughed out loud. Needed that.

1/26/03

As I try to get the hot food issue resolved with Reyde's homecoming, I am planning meals more than I ever have and making use of leftovers.

Tonight's meal is split pea soup. It's a great recipe I received from my friend Tamara and pretty quick to put together. It involves a lot of chopping, so I decided to pull out the wedding gift from Auntie Gogo and give the Cuisinart Food Chopper a whirl.

Now this is the second time I've used it in 6 years, although I'll use it more now that time is of the essence right? Pulled out the box and had to cut through the packing tape I used to move it from West Seattle to here. Sad sad story. All the pieces are in the box, save the directions on how to use it. Not a problem, I can figure this out. To be on the safe side, I do go through all my paperwork in the kitchen and recipe books to see if I've placed the manual somewhere else. No luck, not a problem. This can't be Wendy proof.

I cut up my ham to be chopped and put all the pieces together. Thunk, goes the first piece of ham and I press the "on" button with confidence. Nothing. Hmm...it can't have quit due to no use. Oh, I see this button that looks like it needs to be pushed to engage the motor. Unplug, move the bowl, plug in, and wallah! Power chopping. So much power chopping that my ham is in very very small pieces. No worries, it will still taste good.

I let my soup simmer while I entertain Reyde during his alert time. We check out websites online to see if I can figure out how to greenhouse garden. Not too entertaining for wonder boy Reyde, so I decide to put him in the swing I just re-arranged the living room furniture to accommodate. Get him buckled in, turn the swing on and go to check on my soup as I need to chop my carrots and onions to complete the recipe.

Clean my veggies and go check on Reyde in the living room. I bust out laughing and have to turn the swing off. Reyde's just a little light in the weight factor to slow the swing down, and he is swinging fast and furious. I am surprised he didn't spit up. The chair stops and he appears to be okay with just sitting and pondering the underside of the marble table. Back to chopping veggies. (Perhaps I should have weighted him down with a potato in the swing.)

So knowing that there is water in the veggies, I know I don't have to chop them as long as the ham. Trying my darnest not to, I still puree the heck out of the carrots and onions. The onions actually become paste. Aahh, not to get upset, I figure the food should still taste the same.

James comes in the house, takes over Reyde duty, and I am off to the store. I double check and taste my soup before I leave, just to make sure it is edible. Yes, tastes like split pea, just a bit on the smooth side.

Upon returning from the store, I turn the oven on to make biscuits. As luck would have it, since we are going to have leftovers, I purchase a couple extra cans of dough. I knew I had one in the fridge and pulled that one out. Hmm, use before December 30th. Has it been in the fridge that long? Do I toss it and use a new can, or try my luck at old dough? I pop it and use them anyway, figuring that they won't be that bad and if anything is growing on them, it will be killed with the heat of the oven.

Since being on bed rest since November and all the hospital time, my cooking skills have gone by the wayside. I overcooked two meals last week, so tonight I am careful not to over cook the biscuits. The buzzer goes off, the biscuits look fine, and James and I are dishing up dinner at 7.34pm. And it's hot. And Reyde is asleep. And I get to eat my meal while it is hot. I am careful not to ask how James likes the meal. I wait for his comments as I am sure he will notice that tonight's split pea soup, while not overdone, doesn't require a lot of chewing and isn't quite as chunky as the norm.

I enjoy my food and try not to laugh as I look at the 35 mph swing in the living room. That whole event is one where I think my son is looking at me and saying, "What are you people trying to do to me?"

I scoop up the last of my silky soup and James makes just one comment. "So the next time you make this, you don't have to put the ham in the machine." "Oh, you'd rather chew it than sip it?" I reply. "Well yeah, unless I need to eat it through a straw!" We bust out laughing.

All's good at the Grantham household. Week three begins, and by the way, pureed split pea soup tastes just fine. I think I'll pull out the ice cream maker and see if I can put that to use this week. No, haven't even used it, but I hear that plastic is best aged at 6 years. Wouldn't want my ice cream to taste bad as the container wasn't seasoned well.