Monday evening, Dorcas brought us spaghetti/tomato soup for supper. She’d just made a big pot full for Mama and herself, and she gave us all the leftovers, which was enough for a generous bowl full for each of us.
Shortly after supper, Norma called to ask about Christmas presents, and what I thought this one or that one might like.
“I have a Scofield Bible,” she told me, “and I wondered if Caleb would like it.”
“Would he!!!” I exclaimed. “Oh, he most definitely would,” I assured her, “I’d been planning to get him one myself.”
“Good,” she said, “I will take it to the Lincoln bookstore and have his name engraved on the cover.”
Now not only she can hardly wait to give Caleb that gift, but I can hardly wait to see him open it. That’s exactly what he’s been wanting. He has a Bible that’s nice enough, really, but he never uses it--because it’s not a Scofield. Instead, he prefers an old hand-me-down Scofield, decidedly the worse for wear, that used to belong to one of the other children.
The House was not moved last week, after all, because Nebraska Public Power District said they were too busy until Friday to go look at the route the truck driver, intends to take. Larry hadn’t called them sooner because he didn’t know they had jurisdiction of any of the route. Then Friday they said they couldn’t go look at the route, because the map Larry gave them was too hard to read; they needed a better, bigger one. Aaarrrggghhh!!! Too bad…but that will give the basement floor a little more time to cure. And me, a little more time to pack.
Tuesday I finished sewing Lydia’s white blouse, made her a barrette of green and red plaid to match her jumper--and then started packing. I’m getting all the pictures and decorations and things off walls and shelves, dusting them, and putting them into boxes.
When the children came home from school, I promptly laded Hester and Lydia with boxes of presents and stacks of cards--except those for our own family, which are residing under our own tree--and sent them back to church to put all the things under the Christmas tree. Caleb and Victoria helped open doors and carry a few lone gifts that made the girls’ boxes too heavy. So that cleared a few things out of our way.
Hester and Lydia started the dishwasher, and then we went to Wal-Mart so that Hester could spend her money.
She bought a cute pair of black sandals, black suede on black patent leather, and a pair of short, dressy brown boots with a narrow, curved cuff at the top of the ankle. Footwear choices are slim, and the fashions are still horrendous. Most of the shoes are ugly as sin. At least these have a trim toe and small, rounded heel. And I have to admit, they look a far sight better than her cloddy white (that is, they used to be white) sneakers with the big rubber toe. (They weren’t too bad, when they were new.)
Then she decided to buy Christmas presents for her siblings--and let them pick them out--because we happened upon a display rack with watches for a marvelous bargain. Caleb and Victoria, after a lengthy piece of debate, selected their watches, and Hester bought one for herself, too. Lydia, who already owns three watches, chose a little wooden jewelry box with a heart-shaped glass window.
There was violin practice that night at the church, and since Dorcas was going, Hester stayed with Mama.
Hannah and Aaron came later while Bobby was at church practicing his saxophone with our little band. They are practicing for the Christmas program, which will be the 24th. Hannah began feeding Aaron his supper.
Larry waited till Aaron took a bite, then asked him, “Do you like that numma-numma-numma-numma-numma-num?”, rattling it off lickety-split.
Aaron grinned from ear to ear and hurried to take another bite, just to hear his grandpa repeat that bit of nonsense.
And for days after that, every time Aaron began eating, he’d suddenly get a faraway look in his eyes, start smiling, and say, “Djackson Papa?--numma-numma-numma-numma-numma-num!”
Victoria showed Aaron her new watch. “Can you say ‘watch’?” she asked.
“Watts,” said Aaron in a business-like fashion, and trotted off, sing-songing, “Ti-tot! Ti-tot! Ti-tot!”
“He said it, he said it, did you hear him, he said it!” exclaimed Victoria, feeling as though she was personally responsible for contributing to Aaron’s mastery of the English language. “And he’s tick-tocking, too,” she added.
After they left, Larry and I went out to The Lot to see if the well had been put in. It had, and we could see where water had run down the far side of the lot. Larry was pleased to see that it did head for the east side of the lot and on down toward the south, rather than making a river right through the middle. Up at the top of the hill, where the front of the house is--and where the well is--we could see that water had flowed west a little ways instead of east, and then started going toward the house, and somebody, probably the men who were drilling the well, had piled dirt up to make a dam, thereby keeping the water out of the basement.
First thing Wednesday morning, Caleb showed me the bread--the bread he’d gotten out of the freezer the night before, the bread I’d put into the oven on 100° to rise… I’d never again remembered it.
“The timer went off while you and Daddy were at our lot,” he explained, “so I turned it off and got the loaf out of the oven. I set it on top the stove, and then I forgot to tell you about it.”
It should have been left in the oven, the oven turned on momentarily to warm it up, and the timer set for an hour again. Instead it sat atop the stove all night, and now it was a good ten inches tall. Maybe twelve.
Well, I set the oven at 350°, put the bread in, set the timer for 28 minutes…and went off to wash clothes, comb the kids’ hair, make sure they brushed their teeth and washed their faces, and do a few other things while the bread was baking. And…I wound up doing enough other things that I totally forgot about the bread until 11:30.
The bread!!! The bread. Why hadn’t the timer gone off??? Why couldn’t I smell it? If it was still in the oven, why wasn’t it burning???
I dashed into the kitchen, nose a-twitch.
The oven was off.
I jerked open the door--and there was the bread, still white (as opposed to golden brown) (or burnt black), possibly twelve inches tall rather than ten, and looking rather dry and crusty around the top.
What happened?????
The only thing I can figure is this: you see, the controls are digital, and when one sets the temperature on the oven, one puts in the correct numbers and then pushes ‘Start’. But to set the timer, one simply presses the numbers, and that’s it. I must have pushed the numbers--28--and then pressed the button underneath ‘Timer’, as I do when I press ‘Start’. And the button under ‘Timer’ is––‘Clear’. ‘Clear’ turns everything off, all at once.
The electricity didn’t go off; the clock was still on the right time. So that can be the only explanation, although I really do hate to take the blame for the fiasco.
I hastily turned the oven on 350°, reset the timer, and went off to help Victoria put her school clothes on. That would be one strange loaf of bread, I thought.
But it turned out better than I ever expected, and was quite as tasty as ever. The only thing wrong with it was the humongous air bubble under the top crust, but Caleb said that it just made a nice handle for each slice. And it got done exactly in time for the children to eat it for lunch.
I’ve spent most of this week getting pictures, decorations, stuff, and things off the walls, then dusting and packing them. Oh, yes; and of course washing clothes.
Thursday, Lydia and Caleb’s class went to Prairie Village, an assisted-living facility, where they sang and several of the children played the piano. Lydia played Silent Night.
After school, Hester, Lydia, and Caleb all had their eyes checked, in spite of the fact that Hester didn’t want her eyes checked, not wanting to wear glasses even if it is discovered that she needs them. Just as I feared, Hester has one eye that’s nearly normal, while the other is quite far-sighted, so the prescription for each lens is different but fortunately not enough to noticeably distort her eyes. Someday we’ll get her contacts. Caleb’s glasses will be slightly stronger; I thought that other doctor didn’t give him strong enough glasses last time. Lydia’s will be stronger, too.
We went to Lawrence and Norma’s that night for Lawrence’s 75th birthday. Teddy and Amy came not long after us, and Kenny and Annette and their children arrived shortly thereafter. Lawrence let us watch one of the two videos about the World Trade Center attacks that Keith and Esther had given him.
We all had cake and ice cream, and I overflowed the coffeemaker because they were using those ‘natural’ filters, which aren’t as porous -- and I tried running water through it a second time. All of a sudden, coffee and coffee grounds where spraying out the top of the filter holder, dousing the counter and anything that happened to be nearby.
Have you ever noticed that when you are trying to wipe up coffee grounds, it’s as if you are pushing a couple of magnets together, positive pole to positive pole, negative to negative? I declare, each minute ground raced madly about with individual purpose, trying its best to avoid the paper towel.
Saturday, I cleaned the fish tank and then went back to packing things. Larry went out to The Basement and removed and folded the canvases and blankets that had been covering the cement floor, keeping it from freezing. No trouble with it freezing today; it’s around 60°!
Hester stayed with Mama Saturday while Dorcas went to Norfolk shopping with Hannah. Hester and Lydia spent part of the day busily putting together jewelry pieces they’d gotten from one of Dorcas’ gazillion magazines. They each made themselves the neatest sterling silver and pewter charm bracelets, and then they made several more for Christmas presents for their friends. They attached charms to big silver pins, too; very pretty.
That afternoon, Lydia, Caleb, Victoria, and I went to Wal-Mart to get Hester, Lydia, and Caleb’s glasses. Yes! They were in already! We had been told they would be in the first part of this week, possibly not until Wednesday. But they were in. The children put on their shoes and tied laces as fast as fingers could fly.
When we went out to get into the Suburban, we saw a little plane high overhead…I glanced at it, started to look away, then suddenly realized: that plane was upside down!!! I whirled back around and stared, wondering if we needed to skedaddle ourselves out of the way, should the plane decide to head earthward.
But it executed a barrel roll and there it was then--right side up. It headed abruptly straight upwards, made a neat loop, and continued on, periodically looping or rolling. We stood and watched for ten minutes or so; we had never seen such a sight right from our very own driveway before!
Keith and Teddy popped in for a short visit after they finished singing at church, and Teddy had more boxes for me. Keith has a ‘new’ white car that used to be a police car; he’d traded his pickup for it, straight across. The car only has about 30,000 miles on it and is just like new. The police department got rid of it because they couldn’t get it to run. They had taken it to one of the big, impressive automobile centers here in town, where the mechanics used their sophisticated computers on it and discovered the trouble was with the computer chip that told the fuel pump what to do and when to do it. But they couldn’t get it fixed.
Well, a friend of ours fixed it by rerouting the wiring so that it comes on every time the engine is started, and Voilá!--it works perfectly now. So Keith got himself a bargain.
We are having troubles wading our way through all the boxes everywhere. There is no place to put them! The bookcases and shelves are emptying…and the floor is getting fuller…and fuller…and fuller. And the decorations and pictures from the walls make unbelievable piles. So we step high, then higher, then higher still, trying to make our way along without landing headfirst in one of those boxes.
Just a few days ago, a pair of mountain lions were spotted near Genoa, Nebraska, a little town about 20 miles west of Columbus. Sooo…we will be about six miles closer to them at our new house.
Oooooo…
««Let’s see…film in camera…tape in camcorder…big chunk of meat…»»
I’m ready for mountain lion!
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.