So, today I had two more teeth removed. Apparently some people can afford to lose six of their permanent teeth and still not have enough room in their tiny little mouths for all the leftovers. Such is the case with me—trying to make room for corrective lower jaw surgery in a few months. Aren’t you looking forward to me blogging about that???
My sweet hubby took me to the appointment this morning. He was okay with spending his time this way as long as we were able to pick up the new tv he bought on the way home. Two birds, one stone. I was all for it.
After a pep talk from the doctor about “yes, we think you need this procedure” and “yes, we do have to remove these teeth to get there”, they numbed me up quite nicely, jerked out the teeth and sent me on my way. What a sight I was, though! I realized as the nurse opened the door and led me out that I was re-entering the public with two wads of bloody gauze hanging out of my mouth and a lower lip and tongue that could neither feel nor move.
I tried to hide the mess with my hand and wanted to duck out quickly, but of course I couldn’t leave without the obligatory stop at the cashier. I sprint-walked to the counter and tried not to look at anyone directly in the eye. I also kept touching my face to be sure I wasn’t drooling on anything. The kind lady took my payment and when she finally returned after an eternity of me wanting to crawl into a hole she says, “Hey! Didn’t I see you at kickboxing last week?”
Awesome.
Someone I barely know would like to start a conversation right at this moment….this moment when I have a bulging, drooly face and am unable to utter one intelligible syllable. She starts asking about the North Carolina t-shirt I wore last week and if I liked the kickboxing class and if I was going to be there tonight. All I could come up with was something like, “Ye ah ike eh i. Nah u-ay.” I waved apologetically and dashed out the door.
Richard was waiting for me in the lobby. He’s seen me in bad shape before, but never quite like this. He stuffed a laugh as I tried unsuccessfully to say something meaningful. We jumped in the car and as promised, we headed over to our friend’s house to pick up the new (i.e. hand-me-down) tv. Our friends live in a gated community, so we always have to introduce ourselves to gain entrance. The car in front of us at the gate took quite a while and Richard mockingly said under his breath, “Yes, hi, we’re here to steal things.” Once it was our turn, he managed to respectfully make his intentions known and as we drove through the gate, he said, “Some security…the [people we’re visiting] aren’t even home!”
Thanks to the help of the electronic installer dudes at our friend’s house, he got the massive tv loaded up into the SUV. By this point, my blood and spit have soaked through the little gauze pads and so as we’re pulling away, I ask him to stop at the side of the road so I can switch them out. Dis…gust….ing! He comments, “Yeah, this doesn’t look shady AT ALL…” meaning that of course it’s completely not normal to be driving out of this place with a swiped tv that you picked up from people who weren’t even home in a neighborhood where you don’t belong and with a bloody-mouthed woman in the front seat….it was like bad scene from CSI.
I still couldn’t feel anything from the bottom half of my face, so I was quite shocked when once on the highway with our loot I look down to find that I had managed to drool blood down my neck and the front of my black coat. I start shrieking. Richard says comfortingly, “Well, it could be worse. At least it’s not from your va-jay-jay.”
So, now it’s the evening. The tv is currently beaming the NBA on TNT into our basement in a whole new level of high-definition love. I can feel my face and the two gaping holes in my mouth are no longer gushing. Richard asked if I kept the teeth. I asked, “Whatever for?!” He said, “Ten bucks, baby!” I’ll have to consult with the Tooth Fairy about that one....I'm sure in all the mayhem I've broken AT LEAST one of her rules.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Cookbooks and hymnals...
White Sauce.
It was the key ingredient I needed to recreate the delicious pasta my friend Karen made last Saturday.
It was the key to turning my ordinary every-other-week spaghetti into a mouth-watering delight for my family. And…
…it was the key to unlocking a great treasure left behind by my Grandma.
I think of Grandma Seawel most often when I’m cooking. Many of my very favorite foods came from her kitchen. Chicken and dumplings. Pancakes. Fried eggs. Lasagna. Garden tomatoes. Pie. Hot pickles straight out of the canning jars. There were other meals too, which perhaps due to overzealous experimentation were a little to “out there” for my young taste buds. But either way, there can be no doubt the woman loved to cook. And generally, I loved to eat what she cooked up!
Grandma passed away in 2003 and I soon after inherited her entire recipe collection. The wall hanging box is full of fading recipe cards; handwritten and typed, some stained, some taped together, many modified multiple times with Grandma’s tweaks for a myriad of meals…….and, I kid you not, no less than 442 variations on pie crust and filling.
Along with the recipe box came her 1961 edition Betty Crocker cookbook. Aside from admiring the vintage cover, I didn’t give much thought to the cookbook. But, I knew that if anyone could teach me how to make a proper White Sauce, it would be Grandma’s 1961 Betty! So I pulled her down off the shelf and opened her right up. Flipping through to the coveted White Sauce, the pages fell open to an unexpected treasure that stopped me in my tracks.
In typical Grandma Seawel fashion, there in the fold of the pages I found a stapled-together set of cards just like those preserved in her recipe box. Each one faded, modified with shorthand notes and re-modified with white-out . Each one bent near the staples, evidence that she had returned to these cards again and again for review.
However, on the cards I found recipes not for meals, but of another kind. They were the hand-written poetic words of what must have been some of her favorite hymns. Holy, Holy, Holy. Have Thine Own Way. My Jesus, I Love Thee. One I’ve never heard moved me deeply and I’ll share here as she had written it.
What’s amazing to me is that the very moment Grandma put that small stack of stapled cards into 1961 Betty, God knew that decades later I’d be at home one evening looking for White Sauce…and that I would need encouragement…and that he would speak to me through what was left behind for me to discover.
When I’m gone and my grandchildren are rummaging through my things, I hope what they find points them to Jesus….and if they find something that fills their bellies with good food too….then so be it!
Bring on the White Sauce!
It was the key ingredient I needed to recreate the delicious pasta my friend Karen made last Saturday.
It was the key to turning my ordinary every-other-week spaghetti into a mouth-watering delight for my family. And…
…it was the key to unlocking a great treasure left behind by my Grandma.
I think of Grandma Seawel most often when I’m cooking. Many of my very favorite foods came from her kitchen. Chicken and dumplings. Pancakes. Fried eggs. Lasagna. Garden tomatoes. Pie. Hot pickles straight out of the canning jars. There were other meals too, which perhaps due to overzealous experimentation were a little to “out there” for my young taste buds. But either way, there can be no doubt the woman loved to cook. And generally, I loved to eat what she cooked up!
Grandma passed away in 2003 and I soon after inherited her entire recipe collection. The wall hanging box is full of fading recipe cards; handwritten and typed, some stained, some taped together, many modified multiple times with Grandma’s tweaks for a myriad of meals…….and, I kid you not, no less than 442 variations on pie crust and filling.
Along with the recipe box came her 1961 edition Betty Crocker cookbook. Aside from admiring the vintage cover, I didn’t give much thought to the cookbook. But, I knew that if anyone could teach me how to make a proper White Sauce, it would be Grandma’s 1961 Betty! So I pulled her down off the shelf and opened her right up. Flipping through to the coveted White Sauce, the pages fell open to an unexpected treasure that stopped me in my tracks.In typical Grandma Seawel fashion, there in the fold of the pages I found a stapled-together set of cards just like those preserved in her recipe box. Each one faded, modified with shorthand notes and re-modified with white-out . Each one bent near the staples, evidence that she had returned to these cards again and again for review.
However, on the cards I found recipes not for meals, but of another kind. They were the hand-written poetic words of what must have been some of her favorite hymns. Holy, Holy, Holy. Have Thine Own Way. My Jesus, I Love Thee. One I’ve never heard moved me deeply and I’ll share here as she had written it.
Holy Spirit breathe on me,
Until my heart is clean;
Let sunshine fill its inmost part,
With not a cloud between;
Holy Spirit breathe on me,
My stubborn will subdue;
Teach me in words of living flame
What Christ would have me do.
Holy Spirit breathe on me,
Fill me with power divine;
Kindle a flame of love and zeal
Within this heart of mine.
Holy Spirit breathe on me,
Till I am all thy own,
Until my will is lost in Thine,
To live for Thee alone.
Until my heart is clean;
Let sunshine fill its inmost part,
With not a cloud between;
Holy Spirit breathe on me,
My stubborn will subdue;
Teach me in words of living flame
What Christ would have me do.
Holy Spirit breathe on me,
Fill me with power divine;
Kindle a flame of love and zeal
Within this heart of mine.
Holy Spirit breathe on me,
Till I am all thy own,
Until my will is lost in Thine,
To live for Thee alone.
What’s amazing to me is that the very moment Grandma put that small stack of stapled cards into 1961 Betty, God knew that decades later I’d be at home one evening looking for White Sauce…and that I would need encouragement…and that he would speak to me through what was left behind for me to discover.When I’m gone and my grandchildren are rummaging through my things, I hope what they find points them to Jesus….and if they find something that fills their bellies with good food too….then so be it!
Bring on the White Sauce!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
