After the Carnage

It’s been almost a week ago that the shelf fell down in the laundry room and we lost almost all of the produce we’d canned during the summer.  Today I finally gathered all of the surviving jars next to the sink and washed each one. Several were coated in syrup, and shards of glass glued to the outside. Don’t ask me how I discovered that…

Here are the survivors, all shiny and clean after a hot soapy bath and vinegar water rinse:

I removed and tossed many dented rings, but the seals held on everything except three jars of apple butter. 

I appreciate all of the kind comments of sympathy. I truly feel fortunate that we have anything left of our hard work and each time I open one of the surviving jars, I’ll be a little more thankful than before. :o)

Losing the Bounty

So yesterday morning at 7:15 Jessica called me at work and this is how part of our conversation went (approximately):

J: “Mom, where did you keep the stuff you canned this summer?”

Me: “Where do I keep the stuff I canned?”

J: “Where did you keep the pickles and green beans and stuff? I know where they are now, I just want to know where they were.”

Me: “It’s all on a shelf in the laundry room, why?”

J: “No, it was on a shelf in the laundry room. Now it’s all over the floor.”

Me: “The shelf fell down?!” (Thank you, Captain Obvious!)

J: “There is broken glass, pickles, and green beans everywhere.” (Compelling reading, no?)

Yes, the shelf that Greg safely installed high up on the wall in the laundry room had too much weight hanging off the front of it (where I had hung Bradley’s full clothes hamper to get it off the floor…) and the metal supports just couldn’t handle the load. They bent almost 180 degrees, pulling the shelf out of the brackets and flat against the wall, perpendicular to where it had been.

There were jars of green beans, dill pickles, cinnamon pickles (the syrup!), and apple butter stacked neatly up there, along with extra jars and a box of miscellaneous canning supplies. Here is a snapshot of what I found when I got home:

Jess had cleaned up much of it already so I never saw the entirety of the mess. This was enough to sicken me, though. Yes, that is the cat box in the lower left-hand corner, full of fresh litter and now, dill pickles.

It took me about an hour to get through the broken glass and scattered food on the floor, mop up the syrup and bean juice, and run the Swiffer over it all to hopefully pick up all of the tiny shards of glass. That was all I had time to do before we had to leave for Jess’s and Bradley’s six-week check at the doctor’s office in Lincoln. By the time we got home early in the evening, the floor had dried with a sticky syrup-glue coating. It was just staying that way overnight. I was tired.

First thing this morning out came the bucket, rags, and scrub brush. It took almost an hour to do just the laundry room floor, but now it’s all shiny clean and our shoes don’t make that sticking, slurpy sound when we walk back there.

If I have to guess, I’d say we lost 80-90% of what we canned. There are a few jars of each thing that did not break, and a couple of empties that survived the crash. Fortunately, this loss doesn’t mean we won’t eat this winter, though it is disappointing to lose what we worked so hard on together. It all sucks, but if we look on the bright side, which I always must do, no one was standing back there when it happened, so no one got hurt. And I’m sure there would have been injuries if a person had been under that shelf when the Mason jars came tumbling down.

I still need to wash those jars that survived and put everything back where it belongs in the laundry room, and the baby is asleep, so now’s my chance. Off to work…

Baptism Day

Baptism: The act of baptizing; the application of water to a person, as a sacrament or religious ceremony, by which he is initiated into the visible church of Christ. This is performed by immersion, sprinkling, or pouring.

Today was Bradley’s day to be officially welcomed into the body of Christ that is Zion Evangelical Lutheran Church. His family and friends pledged to raise him in a Christian environment and teach him about the church, “placing into his hands the Scriptures”.

Sara and Nick, along with Jessi’s very good friends from North Dakota are his sponsors.

(From l to r: Sara, Nick, Jake, Jimmy, Marae, Brandon, Bradley, Jessica, Pastor Buch)

In a few short years he’ll be old enough to attend Sunday School and VBS, and have a part in the Christmas program. We haven’t done any of that in a long time, and this Grammy looks forward to it again. :o)

What fun we had!

Halloween has always been one of our favorite holidays. We enjoy the costumes, the decorations, and passing out the candy.  When our kids were still young enough for trick-or-treating, Greg and I would take turns each year, one of us staying home to answer the door, the other toting the kids around town for the candy-fest.

Obviously, with our kids being 22 and 25 years old, we haven’t done the trick-or-treat thing for several years. Instead, we just enjoy the young ones who come to the door, chatting with those who aren’t too shy, and pretending to be horrified at the scary ones.

The past few years, Wyatt, Garett, and Grace have been our helpers, answering the door and giving away handfuls of candy to each trick-or-treater who came up on the porch. This year they did the same, up until time to head out into the neighborhood themselves for their first time to wander the dark streets, begging strangers for candy.

Here we are when they first arrived and were pretty cooperative about picture-taking. Wyatt is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, the good Transformers. Garett is Bumblebee, guardian of the kid in the movie, also an Autobot, and only talks through the radio. Bradley the Cat has no idea what in the sam-hill is happening, and Grace was the Snow Princess with beautiful hair, though you can’t really see her hairdo in this picture. 

When it was time, we met up with niece Hannah and her two young cousins, Olivia and George, who are visiting from Hawaii with their parents. Grace decided Olivia was pretty wonderful and the two of them walked and talked. We didn’t get to hear much of their conversation, but at one point Grace was heard to tell Olivia, “I live in the country.”, to which Olivia replied, “I live in the jungle!”

Here they are at their first house, getting treats from our sweet neighbor, Jo:

(Bradley had to stay home with Grampy.)

For awhile, Garett followed behind Olivia, clucking like a chicken. We aren’t sure why. :o)

We pass out candy for the trick-or-treaters, but I always have something else for Wyatt, Garett, and Grace. This year the big hit for Wyatt was the glow-bracelets and glow-sticks that I picked up at Dollar Tree. We’ll definitely invest in those again. Here he is using two bracelets to make himself some eyeglasses:

It was a very fun evening, and I enjoyed that little blast-from-the-past from when my kids were little. Next year, if the weather is good, little Bradley may get to go along. Oh, Grammy can’t wait!!

Back to the Past

I wanted to make this a weekly topic with a different photo each time, but “life” has gotten in the way lately. Let’s get a fresh start, shall we? :o)

This is perhaps one of my most favorite Adams’ cousins photo ever. I do realize it’s only a portion of the final cousin-count, but I love the colors and the faces and and the old wallpaper and Grandma and Grandpa looking tired. Who knew they still had 15 or so more babies to come into this big, loud, raucous family?

So we’ll start with Grandpa holding Jody and go clockwise. Grandma is holding Tonita and in front of them is me. Then Bart is to my left and Jesse is next to him, grinning. Jeff is in red, Bobby in turquoise (some of you got cowboy clothes for something…). Paula seems to be staring down the camera, and  Barbie closed her eyes. Teresa in red, Debbie in turquoise, and Mike in front of Grandpa. Weren’t we all just the cutest bunch of kids ever?

I have no idea what the occasion was, but since Jesse and Paula, and Bobby and Bart are there, I’m going to guess it’s Thanksgiving and pheasant season?  It looks like we’re having, maybe, potato soup and there’s a plate of leftover turkey in the middle of the table?

I wonder when Grandma got that bright yellow table? She gave it to my mom years later, and Dad still had it when he died. Randy had it in storage at a rental house and unfortunately the tenant ruined it. I regret that I didn’t bring it home and wedge it in here, somewhere.

It was a good, solid table and there were hundreds and hundreds of family meals eaten while sitting at it. Goulash, meatloaf, pot roast, and fried chicken with mashed potatoes. Thousands of bowls of cereal, pancakes, scrambled eggs. Lunch meat sandwiches and potato chips, bowls of soup, bread and butter.  Our entire family sat together every evening at 6 p.m. for supper. No TV, no radio. One of the best rules my parents had, I think.

Our birthdays were celebrated around that table with cake, candles, and ice cream. Usually we had a white or yellow cake baked in a 9x13 pan with chocolate frosting.

Eventually I not only sat there with my family for meals, but also served them  meals I’d prepared. Never a tablecloth or centerpiece or candles. Food was served in the pans they were cooked in, condiment bottles set in the middle. Casual and informal. Pretty much just as you see in the photo.

There are more than food memories associated with the yellow table. We did our  homework there, and played games and paper dolls. I literally covered it with piles of cut-out Christmas cookies one year, polished my fingernails, and folded hundreds of loads of laundry on it. Mom and her friends and sisters gathered ‘round with their babies and “community” glasses of iced tea.

Yes, there are tons of warm, wonderful memories for me associated with that table, but there are also some sad and painful memories. Fights and tears and sorrow. Sitting with family after our brother died. Getting in trouble for various childhood bad decisions. One of the last times I sat at that table was with my brothers to plan our father’s funeral.

I was 16 months-old in that photo, and the last time I sat at that table I was 43.  To me, that table was a symbol of how our family was the most important thing, no matter what else was going on.

Okay, so you see how this post ended up in a totally different direction than it started?  That’s kind of how it works sometimes…

The H1N1

We’ve had an uninvited and unwelcomed guest in our home for the past several days. Jessica was the first to succumb to it’s charms, just a tickle in the back of her throat that turned into an annoying cough, then it went downhill from there. On Friday morning I piddled around in town after work and didn’t get home until almost 11. I found Jess and Bradley in bed – Jess had a temp of 102.2  and a terrific headache.

Immediately I called the clinic and the appointment desk clerk balked a bit, telling me they were only taking emergencies. When I (politely) explained that Jess was a mere 11 days postpartum and running such a high temp, an appointment time miraculously opened up.

The flu test was positive and the doctor prescribed several medications, Tamiflu being the first. I asked for a prescription for both Greg and I as a preventative, and was denied.

So guess who else got sick?

I called the clinic yesterday afternoon when my own temperature reached 102. They didn’t even make me come in, they just went ahead and called in a prescription for me. (That is a MIRACLE for this clinic!)

I called Greg and asked him to pick it up on his way home. He asked me to call the clinic and get him a script, too, since he had started the irritating little cough that was the first symptom. I made him do it himself (hello! I was sick and he just didn’t want to talk on the phone to a stranger…) and they agreed (TWO miracles in one day!), so as soon as he got home we loaded up on the drugs.

He just now called me from work, sounding so perky I wanted to shoot him. I feel better, but still tired and achy and coughing.  Thankfully I haven’t had a fever today.

So far the baby is fine. There was nothing they could do for him that was preventative – we just take precautions to not breathe or cough around him. Those little masks from the pharmacy work great. No, you won’t see a photo of any of us in those. :o)

So while I am pissed off (pardon my French) that the doctor Jess saw on Friday wouldn’t give us the Tamiflu and save us from becoming ill,  at least we’ll be immune to H1N1 the rest of the winter. I guess if we have to find a good thing to come of this, that would be it.

To end this pathetic and whiney post on a high note, I’ll include a gratuitous photo of the little man,  or Tiberius as some call him (I’ll have to explain that one later…):

The Pumpkin Patch

A week ago Saturday we took a little field trip to Helgoth’s Pumpkin Patch near Grand Island. This is the same place Nick and I took the kids last year. This time it was Leslie and Jessi and I who accompanied them and we had a wonderful time.

Here are a few highlights:

The inflatable pumpkin:

Grace on the tire swing:

Garett in the big tube slide:

Garett looking at the sky through the telescope:

The tricycle track:

Wyatt made a length of rope:

And, of course, everyone took home a pumpkin:

We had a little picnic afterward at a very nice Boy Scout park/lake just down the road. Jess was terrorized by a tiny little spider while we ate, but other than that, a good time was had by all! :o)