Ugly Truth and Quick Cookies

Is it just me, or does it seem that the truth is hard to come by lately? With an election year in full swing and with all the COVID-19 and riot confusions, I just don’t know what to believe. Maybe you’re feeling as ill as I am from the honesty deficiency surrounding us. If so, I’ll try to help you out and give you a dose of the cold, the hard, and the ugly truth.

I hate the hot days of summer. I hate the heat. I detest the humidity. I love air conditioning. That’s the cold truth.

I can’t stand my garden looking wilted, but sometimes I am just too l lazy to water it. I complain about my tomatoes being too small, but it’s probably all my fault because I don’t fertilize enough. The poor crop of green beans, on the other hand, is entirely the fault of the bunnies. And the most prolific crop in my garden is the rocks; that’s the hard truth I was talking about. 

Wilted

I like bacon. I like bacon grease. And although my kids scold me for it all the time, I even lick the bacon grease off of the cookie sheet using my finger as a spoon. This is, most definitely, the ugly truth.

That’s not my only bad habit. I also enjoy kicking my socks off in bed. My husband scolds me when he finds several pairs of my socks under the sheets at the bottom of the bed.

Small tomatoes

While I’m being honest, I might as well tell you that sometimes I neglect my family in order to read a book I just can’t put down. Don’t misunderstand; the kids are fed and clothed and loved. But sometimes I do hide in the bathroom to read when I should be grading school papers or folding clothes. Or washing the bacon grease from the cookie sheets (with soap and water).

Snack for caterpillars

When I was a little kid, I stole a pistachio nut from an open basket in theproduce department at the A & P. I loved green pistachio pudding, but I’d never tried the nut. My mother was certain I wouldn’t like them and refused to buy any, so I slipped a single pistachio into the pocket of my jeans when she wasn’t looking. Later I closeted myself in my bedroom, took out the contraband, and felt so guilty that I didn’t even attempt to eat it. I don’t remember how I got rid of the evidence, but I do know that I didn’t try pistachios until I was an adult. To be completely honest, I still feel guilty about that.

So many rocks

And finally, because I have no desire to run for public office ever, I will come out and say it. I am a racist, but not in the way you might think. I am prejudiced in favor of the human race. Truthfully, I have been disappointed by people and their actions and words over the last several months, but I still love them. I can’t help it. I enjoy watching people, listening to people, and even complaining about people. I love big people, little people, ugly and pretty people, stupid and smart people. 

An entire garden full of rocks!

We are all so different, with different concerns and ideas and hopes and fears. But folks, we are being pitted against each other in this day and age; the media calls us maskers and anti-maskers, vaxxers and and anti-vaxxers, racists and anti-racists. How easy it is for us to forget the big truth— that we are (most of us) just people doing the best we can in a world full of controversy and confusion. 

And here’s my last truth: we need each other. I can’t think of anybody I know who hasn’t felt isolated in some way this year. Bridge that divide however you feel comfortable because we are, all of us, mired in this sometimes mucky life and need a connection to solid ground.

**************************************

I’ll never be a politician because I am a little too open and honest. But it is the political season, and the mud-slinging has commenced. It just so happens that one of my favorite cookies looks just like mud. The church cookbook from North Dakota that I use calls them Five Minute Cookies, but most people I know call them No Bake Cookies. I see them in convenience stores all the time, but the only reason I know why somebody wouldn’t make this simple recipe at home is that she doesn’t want to gain a few extra pounds by eating them all. Enjoy.

Five Minute Cookies

2 cups sugar

5 Tbsp. cocoa powder

1/2 cup milk

1/2 cup butter (1 stick)

3 cups quick oats

1/2 cup peanut butter

1/2 tsp. vanilla

In a large pot, stir together the sugar, cocoa, milk, and butter over medium-high heat. Bring to a boil. Boil for 2 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in the peanut butter, oats, and vanilla. Drop by tablespoon onto waxed paper and allow to cool until set.

 *This column was printed in the April 1, 2020, issue of the Hancock News.

**I hope you enjoy all of the garden pictures that show just how ugly my garden can be. If you are like me and have weeds over-powering the food stuff, YOU ARE NOT ALONE! At least we tried.

My Nemesis

This is the face of my summer nemesis.

Tomato hornworms are evil.

Wisdom, Stinkbugs, & Salsa

I’m convinced that being quiet is the key to wisdom. Quiet folks can observe more of the world around them without being distracted by the words coming out of their own mouths.

Likely I’ll never be wise because I like to talk too much. But lately, I’ve had reason to be less talkative; my voice is hoarse and nearly gone. In quieting myself more than usual, I have noticed smaller things in the world around me.

Mostly I’ve noticed stinkbugs. Those ugly little creatures are everywhere. They hang out on the doors waiting to come in when somebody goes in or out. The daredevil ones make their way inside through my stove vent, but that’s not so smart because several have landed right on a hot cast iron skillet.

Once inside, the bugs crawl around walls and ceiling, just out of my reach, until they decide in which light fixture they should take up permanent residence. Sometimes the disgusting insects think it necessary to dive-bomb an unsuspecting little girl, thereby instigating much noise and chaos in our home. 

Let’s not even discuss the massive numbers of the stinkers that find their way into our van.

It’s fair to say that I hate stinkbugs. What’s more, I hate that the sight of a stinkbug crawling on my bathroom mirror or even on my body no longer gives me the heebie-jeebies. It bothers me that my toddler can say “stinka-bug” as clearly as “Mama.” I can’t stand that I no longer feel like fighting the good fight against the brown marmorated stinkbug.

I guess it takes a wise person to admit defeat. Then again, maybe a wise person would fake defeat and then plan a sneak attack with a vacuum hose.

***********************************************

One of my friends says that the invading stinkbugs have ruined cilantro for her because its smell is so similar to the stinkbug smell. In fact, my children have renamed cilantro “stinkbug weed.” Surprisingly, I still like the green herb. I even grow it in my garden.

A friend from my husband’s seminary years shared her recipe for salsa with me all those years ago, and it is a good one--especially when garden tomatoes are no longer available fresh. It calls for chicken bouillon, but I’ve made it without, too. 

Quick and Easy Salsa

1- 16 oz. can whole peeled tomatoes

1/2 onion, chopped

1 jalapeno pepper, chopped (optional)

1 tsp. salt

1 Tbsp. chicken bouillon (granules)

juice from 1/2 lemon

1/2 bunch cilantro, chopped

In a food processor, pulse all ingredients until you like the consistency. 

*This column ran in the Hancock News October 25, 2017. 

*All pictures are of stinkbugs invading the new addition to our home as it was being built. 

Five on Friday on Time

1. Summer Reading Program. Our library's summer reading program started yesterday. We all get into this because the special programming at the library is fun, the prizes are fun, and we think reading is fun.

2. Walks With Luther. On Wednesday the kids and I were finally able to join my husband for his Walks With Luther devotions for church. Basically we all meet at a park in town, my husband prepares a few quotations from Martin Luther and reads a Martin Luther devotion. After a final prayer, we all walk for a bit on the rail trail. This time we tasted some honeysuckle.

3. Funeral. Tuesday our family went to the funeral home for a viewing. Wednesday was the funeral and dinner afterwards. It was a busy day, but it felt good to be able to support the family of the deceased because they are so special to us.

4. Crash. My second son crashed his bike yesterday, and it was a gross scrape. I managed to hold it together to clean it out. He did even better; he was calm, cool, and collected. Impressive. Even more impressive is that he wants to get back on the bike.

5. First Sale. Or should I say, "FIRST SALE!"  because that's how I felt on Wednesday night after we got the kids in bed late and I checked my email. I finally sold something on my Etsy shop. A most wonderful person from New Jersey bought some of the guinea feathers. 

The feathers all wrapped up

Late into the night I worked to do the whole Etsy shipping thing and to package up the feathers. It's not that hard, but it was the first time and I had to figure things out. 

After this first sale, I've almost broken even with all the listing fees so far. This $3 sale is not making me a millionaire, but it did feel nice.

Top Ten Things I Hate About Painting

1. Paint

2. Brushes

3.  Rollers




4.  Plastic on the floor

5.  Tape on everything

6.  Paint

7.  Total disruption of life since kids can't be running up and down the hall with messy hands.

8.  Painting (the physical act of making a total mess)

9.  Opening windows and turning off the A/C on a day with 103℉ temperatures and about 97% humidity. (I may be exaggerating on this one a tiny bit.)

10.  Having no clue about what I'm doing.

Did You Think You'd Ever Say. . . ?, No. 6

"Stop licking spaghetti sauce off the floor!"

Did you think you'd ever say. . . ?, No. 4

"No. We don't kiss toilets."

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

We'll start with the good. Yummy things growing are always good.

First zucchini of the year

We ate this yummy morsel with our morning eggs today. It was bigger because these pictures are two days old.

Bountiful blackberries

A few of these tasty treats have ripened already and have found their way into the bellies of garden workers who needed a little snack.

 

Early raspberries

Our raspberries throw out a few teasers before their season begins in earnest, usually in August. Raspberries are my favorite. I also like the willing helper holding the berries; she loves working with growing things. I predict her thumb will turn green any day now.


Now for the bad.


Do you see those mating Japanese beetles through the lacy grape leaf? Yep. They're responsible for that foliage destruction, I fear.

Stupid bugs

It's not all bad, though, because this year our grapevine is actually putting on and keeping some grapes. Could this be the first year we might harvest a grape or two despite those beetles?

I fear the unknown, and right now I don't know what's causing those grapes to turn yucky-looking. I'm so new to this grape thing.

The grapes look like they're rotting.

 And now for the ugly. And let me warn you, it is ugly.

Poison ivy, vile stuff!

While this plant by itself isn't visually repulsive, my face is. There was some poison ivy growing in the garden, and my husband dug it out with a shovel. I made the mistake of pulling the weeds that were next to it. And then wiping my face. And a few other places.

I won't post a picture of my face, but let's just say that the kids are staring with pity and horror, and the toddler just stares and points. When I have a fresh coat of calamine, he won't let me near him. On Sunday and Monday I was merely disfigured and grotesque. Today I awoke to one eye swollen shut. Later in the day it opened up partially, but I'm not sure I look any better.

So I am miserable, but at least I found out I can take benadryl in the third trimester. It takes the edge off. A little bit.

For a bonus ugly picture, scroll down.

That's my compression-stockinged foot in a sock that's coming off in my hot pink Crocs.

If that's not ugly, I don't know what is! Except for my face. That's really, really ugly. Trust me.

But if you don't trust me, shoot me an email, and I'll reply with the picture.

Poisonous

Well, we've had snakes (a copperhead, even!) and lizards on our front porch this spring/summer. I'm not terribly fond of them. And then my son saw this in the corner of our front door frame. It might be hard to see, but it is indeed a black widow spider. I'd thought they only liked dark places, but, no, this one made her home on our south-facing porch.

Yucky old poisonous thing!

And speaking of things that probably aren't the healthiest for you. . .

I have had an insane craving during this pregnancy for instant mashed potatoes. We NEVER make instant mashed potatoes, but a few weeks ago at Sam's Club, I gave in and bought a monster-sized box of them.

Appetizing, no?

But what to serve with instant mashed potatoes when everything you have is frozen and the oven is broken? Hmmmmm. . . 

How about something else that might be served in a cafeteria?

Greasy (but quite tasty) hamburger gravy

At least it was made with grass-fed beef and homemade bone broth, right? Right?!

 

 

Plain Jane green beans

This was definitely not my finest fancy dinner, but you wouldn't believe how the kids gobbled it up. And it completely satisfied my pregnancy craving. Well, I still want more mashed potatoes, but the box isn't empty yet.

What was your strangest pregnancy craving?

Done With Winter

I know I have absolutely no control over the weather, but I don't want any more winter.

I've experienced the things I like about winter-- hot chocolate, Christmas, watching the kids play in the snow, cuddling under my wool blanket, seeing the pretty ice on Sideling Hill, and I think that's where my list ends.

These are the reasons I can't wait for spring.

Cold. I don't like being cold. In the morning, I  take care of the guineas, and it's just too cold for me. The guineas don't like the snow either, and I miss watching them run around like crazy.

I feel cooped up. The children are cooped up. When they play outside, they don't stay out for long.

I'm ready for green things poking up.

And most of all, in spring I hope this horrible-wonderful first trimester nausea is through with me. Around the same time spring pops out, my stomach should be tired of being the dictator of my life for a while. Sunflower seeds and lemon seltzer water won't need to be my near-constant companions, and I'll be able to go into a grocery without fear.

Remember These Guys?

These little fellers/ladies aren't so little anymore!

Out-growing the garage!

Our dear guinea keets will soon be moving out to their permanent coop. Well, as soon as it's finished, they'll be moving out there. That project has taken up every spare moment of my husband's time this summer. When it's all done, I'll post a picture of it, too.

I've learned several things from this bird experience so far. First, I don't mind the noise the guineas make. Second, while watching the funny little birds, don't accidentally walk into the fly tape hanging in the garage. Twice. Third, these birds are so dumb that they poop in their own water! Fourth, it takes a genius to keep inventing ways to keep them from pooping in their water. Fifth, I really, really hope they eat all the ticks because this is a lot of work.

Painful

Yesterday we were blessed with rain for our growing garden. Unfortunately, along with rain came some heavy duty winds. The wind actually lifted our guinea coop into the air and moved it. The need to anchor it a bit before the keets are moved into it, along with a door issue, made it necessary for us to change our design slightly. 

Yesterday we were loading some 8 foot long 4 x 6 pressure-treated lumber into our trailer. I dropped my end. Onto my foot.

I, the woman who makes practically no noise during the throes of childbirth, screamed. More than once. I immediately took off my sandal as my foot swelled astronomically. In the short time it took my husband to help me hop back to my seat, my foot had a bump roughly the size of a large orange on top of it. Not that my foot is ever all that attractive, but this, my friend, wasn't pretty.

In route to the emergency room, we managed to make some phone calls for friends to meet us at the hospital and help us with the children. 

I tried not to think how a broken foot would impact the garden and all of our other summer plans. I tried not to wonder how in the world I would manage the little ones without being able to walk. 

I broke my other foot once, and it wasn't nearly as painful as this new injury. I sat in the emergency room waiting and waiting. Registration, waiting, triage, waiting, x-ray, waiting, waiting, waiting, exam, waiting. . .

I was so thankful for the help and conversation a friend provided to distract me from the pain.

Waiting still.

Then the x-ray results were finally received. It wasn't a break, but a bad contusion, the same injury my mother-in-law received when her marble rolling pin fell on her foot.

I'm in pain, but I'll recover. Perhaps I won't be hunting down tomato worms in the garden for the next couple of days, but I suppose I could do some summer schoolwork with the children. I could fold clothes maybe. I'll definitely be keeping my foot up and frequently putting ice on it.

Let this be a lesson to you, one you may have never thought of before. Don't drop heavy things on your feet. 

Tick Sick

I'm not really one to jump on the bandwagon of all of those awareness months out there, but I'll make an exception for May--Lyme Disease Awareness Month. I guess I'm kind of late to it, but I want to write about it because Lyme Disease has been a big pain for our family, and I want you to know about it so it's not too big of a pain for yours. 

Our war with Lyme started about 6 years ago when our oldest son,  then a 4-year-old, started limping. There had been no injuries, and the limp would come and go. No child that young could fake a limp so well. We asked him if he was in pain, but he didn't even seem to notice anything different. We wondered if it were growing pains or some other benign childhood thing, but took him to the doctor just in case something was wrong.

We were more than surprised when the first thing our doctor suggested was Lyme Disease. We had seen no tick. There had been no tell-tale bull's-eye rash. He had no fever. No aches. No anything except a once in a while limp. It turns out that our doctor knew a good bit more about Lyme than many other doctors because her husband had progressed to a later stage of Lyme before he was diagnosed. None of us liked the idea of putting our son on a month-long (or more) course of antibiotics, so she suggested we could think about it and observe since we were just about to leave for vacation. 

Later that week she called my husband's cell phone while we were camping to check how our son was doing. We told her the limp was still there, and she strongly urged us to go ahead with the medicine. About 3 days into the treatment, the limp went away for good. 

Then, just last spring, our 7-year-old second-born starting having some troubles. He didn't much feel like eating he said. Strange. He also started having some pretty bad headaches. And then he said that he didn't feel like doing his school work; it wasn't that he didn't want to do his work, but he said he felt like his brain just couldn't do it because it felt all foggy. Then his legs were hurting; sometimes the shin, sometimes the ankle. 

Each of these symptoms was unrelated in my mind. The lack of appetite, I thought, could possibly be just some phase. Of course, ever since he was little when the pollen was particularly bad he was prone to horrible headaches. And the school work? Well, I was pretty sick of doing school work and ready for summer break, too. The leg pain must have been growing pains or something; he'd had leg cramps sometimes before. While each of these problems troubled me, not one thing was enough for me to consider going to the doctor.

One day he had a sort of splotchy face. Was it too much sun? Maybe poison ivy or maybe one of his brothers scratched his face while they were wrestling around. The next morning he woke up with a rash. It wasn't an ordinary rash. It was faint circles. It put me in mind of ringworm, but it wasn't the same exactly. It wasn't scaly or anything like that. And I found it really strange that ringworm would pop up overnight all over his body--his face, arms, trunk, and legs. I considered Lyme Disease, but I had thought that bull's eye rash had to have a tick-bite center. None of these did. I took pictures and called the doctor.

You can see a small circle on the inside of the left calf and a larger one on the right calf.

Our doctor took one look at his rash and confirmed it was Lyme. She took pictures, too. He was started on a 4-6 week course of antibiotics. And he began to improve almost right away.

Then a couple of weeks later we were off to my brother-in-law's wedding in Ohio. Just as we got on the interstate, my oldest son (then 9 years old) said that he had a tick crawling on him. Great. He handed it up to me, and I couldn't believe how little it was compared to the other ticks we had picked off of our children and dog. But at least he'd found it, and it wasn't attached. I got rid of that tiny disease-carrier.

A few days later, at the wedding reception, my eldest started feeling sick. His head hurt. He just didn't feel good. We left a bit early and started driving back to my brother-in-law's house where he promptly vomited all over the bathroom floor. It seemed he had a stomach bug. While on vacation. Now we just had to get him better and wait for the other 4 kids to come down with it. Away from home. Sigh.

The next day his stomach was feeling some better, but he just felt horrible. He had a fever. Once in a while he felt well enough to be outside and playing whiffle ball, but mostly he just wanted to rest. The next day we headed home.

Over the next week or so, he seemed better, but sometimes was just tired or had a little headache. He wasn't always wanting to eat either. My husband and I were beginning to wonder. One day he had some splotchiness on his face--was the one splotch sort of part of a circle? The next day he had the same circular "bull's eye" rash all over his body. Our doctor told us not to second-guess ourselves when we had concerns again. She also said not to wait for the rash; call her if they ever had any of the other symptoms again. He got antibiotics, too-- 4-6 weeks.

Later in the summer, our dog had a weird "episode." It was like his back legs wouldn't work right, and he was really frightened and seemed to be in pain. After a few minutes it passed. We took him to the vet who tested for Lyme, but it came back negative. A few months later he had another shorter episode. Then another a few months later. We took him to the vet again. She x-rayed his hips (he had to be put under for that), but all was well with that. She did note that his back legs were not as developed as his front legs. And his Lyme test came back positive. You guessed it. Antibiotics.

It seems that we've had lots of battles that have turned out okay. But really, it feels like a never-ending war. I can't even count the number of ticks we've picked off of our children and dog. And couch. And refrigerator. In our house the boys (and man) get "summer" haircuts, not so they will be cooler, but so we can spot ticks more easily.

We just spent several hundred dollars and have built a coop for guineas which will be delivered in a couple of weeks, all in the hopes that when we can let them free range they will eat up all the little blood-sucking ticks. You might not realize it, but with a husband, 6 children, a dog, 3 cats, several fish, a large vegetable garden, homeschooling, and umpteen million unfinished projects I want to do, I don't really want the extra responsibility of guinea fowl. I don't want to be tied down with them.

More than that, though, I don't want any of my loved ones to have Lyme Disease. Really, we've been quite lucky in the Lyme department because we've caught it fairly early. I have a cousin who almost lost her vision because of Lyme. Another friend had shoulder problems and Bell's Palsy. I've read way too many horror stories about what untreated Lyme does. If you haven't and don't know much about the disease, you should type it in your favorite search engine right now and read about it. Become familiar with all of the many, many possible symptoms. Your or yours could have the disease and only have one or two or ten or no symptoms. Frequently tests for Lyme come back with false negatives. It mimics so many different diseases. It is frequently misdiagnosed. It can be chronic and difficult and expensive to treat. It can leave permanent damage.

That's my public service announcement for the year. Please educate yourself. It's not an ailment you want to play around with.

Gross Out

Let me warn you that this post is aptly titled. If you are distressed at the thought of swishing messy diapers in the toilet or cleaning up child vomit, then perhaps you shouldn't read on because that stuff is sissy stuff compared with what I am about to reveal.

Why would I post something that makes my skin crawl? Well, for one, my eldest wanted me to; he thinks it's cool.

My eldest, the poor lad, has inarguably endured the most creepy, disturbing moments in our home. For some strange reason, they both occurred in our laundry room.

When he was but 7, my newborn daughter's shriveled up umbilical cord fell off. No big surprise there really. The problem was that we couldn't find it. We looked and looked in bed, on the floor, in the car seat, in the pack and play. Nothing.

A few days later, my very helpful son was moving the laundry from the washer to the dryer when he came tearing out through the kitchen, hollering and clearly upset. "There's something gross in the washer!" He half-whimpered, "It looks like raw meat or something bad!"

I reassured him that I would take care of it. When I laid down the baby, I went to investigate. At first, what I saw frightened me. Had a serial killer sneaked into our home and put his victim's mangled finger in my washing machine? And then it occurred to me; the lost umbilical cord had hidden in dirty laundry and found it's way into the washer where it was completely rehydrated and discovered by my dear son. At least it was better than my first unreasonable guess.

And then there's what happened yesterday in the laundry room. You see, our dryer has been on the fritz a bit. We've been having to put the clothes through more than one cycle for them to dry completely. In the afternoon I called my friendly appliance repair aunt who lives across the country and asked her if it was worth getting it fixed (since the dryer is almost 13 years old). She said it was simply a venting problem, and I should clean it out.

I found a wooden chopstick and started with the outside part of the vent. The dryer was running, and as I poked around, bits of lint flew out at me and landed in the shrub nearby. That's not all. Two Legos, two hair thingies, and an unidentified piece of plastic also fell to the ground. And a big clump of stuck-together lint. But not really anything that I felt was enough to keep the clothes from drying.

Phase two of fixing the venting problem involved me, my husband, and aforementioned brave and willing son. I looked on while strong husband pulled the dryer forward as far as possible without it hitting the toilet. Then nimble son (who could fit into the small space) climbed over the washer and dryer and began cleaning lint and such from the floor with the vacuum hose. Then he held up the dryer vent pipe, and we could all clearly see "stuff" inside. We worked together to insert the vacuum hose and start sucking. We heard all sorts of sounds like Legos being hosed up. Then I had to leave it up to my men to finish because the baby needed me.

Take a deep breath because the worst is just ahead.

I heard the fellows continue working. Then I heard, "Just stick your hand in and pull it out."

Can you guess what was pulled out by my young son?

Why, yes, it was a mummified mouse! You're so smart.

I was right, wasn't I?  Pretty gross.