Little Interruptions

It was while Motivated Mom and I were cleaning up from dinner that our granddaughter, Little Miss Grabby Fingers, decided to rearrange the placement of the dishes in the dishwasher.

So I paused in the cleaning of the kitchen to wipe the tomato sauce from Little Miss Grabby Fingers' fingers and then moved our granddaughter to the family room where she could play with her toys.

It was while I continued to clean up from dinner that Little Miss Grabby Fingers decided to remove the soil from the potted palm tree.

So I paused in the cleaning of the kitchen to wipe the black smudges from tiny fingers, sweep up the potting soil that had been cast across the floor, and move Little Miss Grabby Fingers back to the family room where she could play with her toys.

It was while I worked to wrap up the cleaning in the kitchen that Motivated Mom started folding laundry... until Little Miss Grabby Fingers decided to unfold the clothes and build a pile that she could fall into.

So I paused in the cleaning of the kitchen to carry Little Miss Grabby Fingers back to the family room and sat down on the floor so we could play with her toys together.

Sometimes the important things are not what you think they are.

The Non-Stick Dilemma

Helpful hint #1,377

Our kitchen had been hit with an epidemic of Teflon pans losing their ability to prevent foods from sticking. Pans that had been our favorites for years were suddenly being shoved aside in favor of those that had been our second choice not so long ago.

We were always careful to use plastic spatulas and wooden spoons so as not to damage the Teflon coating and were stymied by non-stick failure.

Having given up entirely on our best and second best omelet pans, Motivated Mom headed off to the kitchen store... where she learned that the aerosol propellant in cooking sprays actually damages the non-stick coating when the pan heats up. 

Teflon or no, there are always times when we're looking for that little extra oily coating on the pan. Unfortunately those quick sprays were leading to routine sprays... and now we know why.

From now on we'll use the sales clerk's suggestion of keeping some light oil in a pump bottle and adding it to the pan that way.

Childhood Universe

Stuck inside during the cold snap I have found myself contemplating the simplicity of childhood in summer.

With no school to attend, the known universe... what was important anyway... fell within a two mile radius of my home. And the kids who lived in that universe had assigned a simple name to everything of importance.

If we agreed to meet at the Big Rock, there was no question as to the meeting place.  There were fields and farms all around, but if someone declared a game of touch football would be played in The Farmer's Field everybody knew where to go.Games of hide and seek started at The Bridge and toy boats were tested for integrity at The Waterfall.

An underground fort was constructed at the foot of the Big Hill. During the dog days of summer we would crawl down the sloping entrance and sip water from canteens while breathing in the cool air that smelled of damp earth

Looking back, I wonder if our parents envied the confines of our world.

Relay or Triangle

I have come to believe the Delaware Bay is the avian equivalent of the Bermuda Triangle.

During the past weeks the morning sky has been heavily peppered with flocks of birds; birds in such numbers that the individual flocks could be mistaken for thunderheads at the crest of a weather front.

Originating from every compass point, the birds seem to lose their way above the waters off of central Delaware. The flocks meet, cross either under or over one another, and suddenly become an aimless swirling mass.

It's as though their internal GPS' have gone whacky and they are no longer sure whether to maintain their original direction or head off for some other destination.

....Unless of course what I'm witnessing is a series of avian relay races and each bird is busily looking for another to pass the baton to.

Frozen Words

There have been more than a few short stories written in which the words spoken by characters in the story freeze in the air.

My first reading of such a story was in fourth grade. The temperatures dipped so low one winter that two neighbors living in cabins in the woods were forced to wait until the spring thaw to hear what the other had spoken while out of doors.

Obviously the story itself made an impression on me.  I called on Dr. Google to assist me in identifying the author and story title but to no avail.  Too many stories of a similar vein have been written since I carried textbooks bound together by a monster elastic band.

Walking outside this morning I was prepared to believe that remembered story wasn't a complete work of fiction after all.  Had I dared to open my mouth against the bitter cold and utter a single phrase I would not have been surprised had the air held my words captive until warmth returned to the world.

False Sunlight

It's a false promise...January sunlight.

Shining through the window of a building or automobile January sun promises nurturing warmth.  But dare to open a door and all that remains of sunlight is...light.

So it was interesting to note the faces of those who ventured outdoors on Sunday. Looks of startled relief and whispers of do you feel that came from all directions.  For, if you stood in a place sheltered from wind, there was the suggestion of spring warmth.

It was enough to draw people out of doors again on Monday wearing only lightweight coats or sweaters. Hats and gloves were left behind. But oh those poor souls shivered and shook when greeted by the breeze that carried nothing of warmth.

And now the forecast is peppered with temperatures nearing single digits. Temperatures that will feel all the colder for that one-day promise of warmth.

But what else could we expect from such an unfriendly month?

Baby Proofing

I never appreciated just how many cabinet doors and drawers there are in our kitchen until I had to baby-proof them.

It seemed I would never finish drilling tiny holes so that I could use tiny screws to affix tiny clips in order to keep tiny hands out of places they shouldn't be.

This undertaking was prompted by Little Miss Grabby Fingers' discovery that if she pulled plates out of the cabinets and dropped them on the floor the plates made the most marvelous shattering sound.

Thrown into sheer terror by the sight of a bare footed baby standing in the midst of a ceramic shards, I moved baby-proofing to the top of the to-do list.

It seems there ought to be an easier way to address the problem of babies getting into things they shouldn't. I'm thinking of developing baby-sized oven mitts that can only be removed by releasing a combination lock. While wearing the mitts, the baby would be limited to clapping hands in imitation of a Sea World sea lion clapping its flippers.