Dash # 783 Strange Food

Question:  What’s the Strangest Thing You’ve Ever Tasted?

       When I was on my mission I remember two individuals believing they could outdo each other by eating the grossest thing they could come up with.  Raw egg, entire raw onion, etc.

       I can’t remember which one of them succeeded at the onion, but his breath could be detected from across the room.  I remember when he said his good-byes that his breath made a little girl cry.

        My companion had suggested to the two of them that there was still yet another test.  Her trainer’s boyfriend had been serving a mission in Australia and had sent her a package for Christmas that included goods native to Australia.  Among those “treasures” was a small jar of something called Vegemite – which evidently is used as a spread similar to how American’s used peanut butter.  She said that she and her companion had tasted it but that is was the foulest thing that she had ever put in her mouth.  

             Without knowing anything more about it, both guys who had attempted the onion said they would be able to eat the vegemite. One had even boasted that he would eat an entire vegemite sandwich.  

Thus when we returned to our living quarters, my companion put in a phone call to her former area and asked the missionaries to forward the vegemite to our address in Ripplemead.  It arrived within a week.

The smell was horrid.  I took a very small taste just so I can say that I have truly tasted it.  Somehow that teeny taste made the entire jar smell even more pungent.  It was gross.  I did not care for it.  Neither did any other American taste bud that we had tried it on.

The one who boasted he could eat an entire sandwich said he would rather drink motor oil and did not attempt the sandwich.  Thus the bishop of that area took the sandwich and said he could eat it – which he did.  It took him an entire hour as he made certain that the only taste on his tongue was from the bread itself.

Vegemite turned out to be a really great “gag” as we had used it to play jokes on first an elder in the zone.  We had frosted several brownies with real frosting but had set two aside to cover in vegemite.  All the other elders were enjoying their brownies and he hated the very idea of forcing his brownie to go down but did not want to appear as being rude by not finishing, but laughter got the better of us.  He looked around at each of us and then at the brownies before saying, “it’s just mine, isn’t it?”

Another was when the bishop removed the cream filling from the centers of Oreo type cookies and replaced them with vegemite in order to catch a cookie thief at work.  He said that somebody had been raiding the lunch bags and stealing the desserts.  

Although he had an idea of who the culprit was, he couldn’t prove it.  Thus he took his vegemite filled cookies to work to catch the guy.  He said it was the funniest thing to watch the guy swear in disbelief that there was something wrong with the cookies – only he couldn’t report it because he had been at fault for stealing them.

Years later, when I was trying to get Jenna to stop sucking her finger, I wound a store that specialized in import goods.  I learned that they carried vegemite from Australia.  They also had a marmite from New Zealand.  As it was less costly, I settled for that.  I thought that if I put something that revolting on her finger, she would stop sucking it.  I also knew that it wasn’t going to hurt her.

Marmite backfired!  She LOVED it.  She would eat it by the spoonful.  It was many years before she stopped sucking on her finger.  I don’t remember what bribe I used to get her to stop.  Perhaps she figured it out on her own as her fingers became raw.

I Was Hoping for Urgent Care – Not U-Wait While We Care for Everybody Behind You

WARNING:  Although I do not provide all the details, some of what I’ve written provides a gross picture

      What a glorious Mothers’ Day NOT – on top of the cough and leaky bladder I was having aches and pains all over my body.  I couldn’t get comfortable whereas I could sleep for very long.  I haven’t been restless before when I am sleeping in a reclining position.  At least not that I know of.  Sheets were pulled away from the mattress.  I’d have a pillow fort beneath my feet.  If I had been given the option to die, I would have taken it.

            I’d been scheduled to work both yesterday and today, but took myself out of the subbing position and left a message with the school.  Soon after I left my message, I received a call from another aid seeing if I can work her shift.  When I returned her call and she heard my voice introduce myself, she didn’t even need to explain.  It was obvious that I was not in a position to work for anyone – and yet I had had four opportunities and ended up saying “no” to all four.  I would have worked for free with the behavior challenged youth than to feel the way I was feeling.  I would have rather gone to the dentist or another tubular pregnancy.
           
            Yesterday I called a health center claiming to provide urgent care.  I don’t know what their definition of “urgent” is, but it is definitely NOT the same as mine.  They said they had a 9:40 cancellation.  Okay, that should get me home to attend the live lecture which starts at 11:00.  WRONG!  I would have been home at 10:20 if the appointment had meant anything.

            I counted eight people come in behind me.  Eight! They would come and go. One man came in and they greeted him with “Oh, you’re early.  Your appointment is not until 11:00.”  He was still seen before me!  Crimeny!

            It may not have been so bad nor may I have complained but I was feeling so awful.  There was a sign for coughers and sneezers to please wear a mask, which I did.  Only not fully at first.  I had come in early in order to fill out the paperwork – which actually had not taken that much time.  If I covered my nose, the air would fog up my glasses and I couldn’t see.  But when the paperwork was filled out and hande in, I covered my nose in addition to my mouth.  I had meant to bring in my puzzle book - I mean what person doesn’t have to wait at the doctor’s office?  At least six of the people behind me!  They even took the only other person wearing a mask before they took me.  What gives!  I just wanted a prescription for a Z pack. Why would they not want to take the masked patients first just to send them away all that much sooner?
 

            I went to the desk to ask if I had been forgotten about – I hadn’t.  Not everybody is seen by the same doctor and apparently, I was there for a specific person and not a “next-available” situation.  I visualized Tim Conway waiting on Harvey Korman in a skit that had done on the Carol Burnett show (here).  Meanwhile, I had a wall of mucus between my face and the stupid mask.  I needed to clean myself.  After the nurse had to my weight, height, pulse, etc. I asked if I could take off my mask and clean myself up.  

        She allowed me to do so, but immediately replaced my mucus-filled mask with a fresh one.  I liked the second one better.  I did not have to wait in the patient room near as long as I had in the foyer.  The doctor – who appeared as though he has already and did move a bit quicker than Tim Conway’s character – spent all of fifteen minutes with me – if that.  I have bronchitis, wasn’t breathing correctly (that’s a given.  I think my breathing gets harder as I age;  I think I have small pipes), high pulse rate (I honestly don’t know where that had come from unless it was rage from having had to wait) and a slight fever.

            He called in a prescription for a Z pack and small pills which resembles fish eggs and it’s supposed to suppress my cough – which I suppose it’s done somewhat.  At least the cough no longer seems to connect to my bladder.  Last night my fever broke and must still be breaking as it is less than 55 degrees outside and I feel like I’m in an over.  The clothes I had on this morning have been washed along with my bedding as everything was overly damp this morning.

            My last class started yesterday, but I have not participated in any of it until today.  The subject is the psychology of the brain – or at least our focus for this week’s discussion is on the brain.  Each part of the brain has a name and a function.  Trying to absorb it all is like learning a new language.  I don’t think it’s as complicated as accounting, but by the time I get it figured out, the course will be done. 

            So I am feeling a lot better today than the last three, but still not 100%.  I hope to by tomorrow.  I have two more sub days lined up for Thursday and Friday.  I hope that I will feel up to it.  Right now I do not.  But if I progress as quickly as yesterday versus today, I will be ready to return to work on Thursday.

Sing Me To Sleep

                         

                Before it started to rain in March,

I had a dry cough. 

A very annoying

dry cough

as though I had swallowed

a hair ball and couldn’t get it

out of my system.

 Then the rains came and

gradually my cough left me. 

I was able to go on stage to

perform with the choir on Easter.  

I had forgotten that the primary had

been invited to join us. 

The song was “Gethsemane” (see here).

Our primary kids sound like angels

whenever that song is performed.

My eyes leak whenever

they’re performing. 

I was too choked up to

sing with them. 

After Easter my dry cough returned. 

Gradually it became a wet cough. 

On Tuesday I was sore from head to toe. 

Pain in my cheeks 

pain in my teeth  

terrible pain. 

I shouldn’t have gone to work

 at the school on Wednesday. 

A lot of children commented that

I sounded funny. 

I was feeling better than on Tuesday. 

The coughing and congestion are

not the worst part. 

I know there are some woman who

will relate when I mention that

the cough and bladder somehow

seem to be connected. 

Shooting out the other end

and having to change myself    

It reminds me of the many times that

I have changed baby diapers amazed

at how much the pad will hold.  But still . . .

The last couple of days

I have gone through one and a half

boxes of tissue.

I have missed the Mother’s Day brunch

which I was supposed to conduct and

take part in the program. 

I called the organizer this

morning and said

I wouldn’t be there. 

My right cheekbone feels bruised.  

I feel worse than I look. 

I hope Roland doesn’t get it this bad. 

Thus far Jenna’s been able to dodge

getting this nastiness. 

I pray that she will remain free of this. 

I think this is the worst cold

that I have ever had

in my entire life.

No More Frosting

            When Jenna was younger we used to share food.  She would eat parts that I didn’t especially like and vice-versa.  At this moment I forget all of the food except for eggs and cake.  Jenna could eat yolks only when they were scrambled with whites.  She has finally converted to hard boiled yolks.  Of course, they must be surrounded by the white part.  I can eat the whites though they are not my favorite.  I like runny yolks for dipping my toast or pancake.  I am completely grossed out by any of the white part if not completely cooked.  I would rather have an overcooked egg than an undercooked one.

            As with most kids, Jenna preferred the frosting to the cake itself.  I like to be in control of just how much frosting is going on my piece of cake.  For the most part (unless the layer is really thin) I will scrape off the frosting and so Jenna and I sharing a piece of cake was never a problem.  Jenna would always accuse me of being nuts as “the frosting is the only part worth eating”.

            Although cake is not her preferred method of dessert, she has learned that the cake itself. She says the frosting is too sweet and prefers her cakes without it.  I never thought I’d live to see the day.

Dash #3 Goals

        My goals are to finish up my last two classes so that I can graduate on June 1.  I was asked to participate in a Verizon hotspot for Internet service and report the hours that I use for school.  I’m supposed to record three months worth but will have to send it back in two months as that is all the time I have left.  Since it is the school paying for the service, I don’t guess it would do any good to keep it.  I don’t think  I am that great of a candidate as there has been only one time I have been away from the house and needed WiFi for school – that was the last week of February.  I would have not had my laptop in Roseburg but how impressive it would have been if I had been able to get Internet power when it wasn’t available in Myrtle Creek.

        So one of my goals is to help out the school by recording what is required.  Doesn’t seem like too bad of a deal to me.  

Homograph word: Roll

A role is a position in society or the part that a performer is given for a play.  Role is a homonym to roll which has several meanings. I've come up with 25 sentences though there are only six definitions.  See if you can figure them out.

1.       I may take roll or attendance to find out who is present or absent from a meeting or class.

2.       I may purchase a roll of duct tape which in turn may roll across the floor.

3.       When I eat my spaghetti dinner, I may want a roll to eat with my meal.

4.       I may use the roll as a measure in money, fabric, or toilet paper.

5.       I may roll up a newspaper for an easier toss.

6.       I may roll out the red carpet for a special occasion.

7.       I may teach my dog how to roll over.

8.       I can roll the windows up or down in my car.  The windows in my house don't roll.

9.       Roland will roll out dough for biscuits, sugar cookies and pie crusts.

10.     You may be rolling your eyes and wonder if we have both wasted our time.

11.     Many of the younger generation who use digital cameras may have never purchased a roll of film.

12.     They may not have the opportunity of seeing an old film projector nor understand the concept of film being rolled from one reel or spool to another.

.

13.     You may wish to purchase a sweet roll or a cinnamon roll.

14.     To "roll off one's back" means to not let bothersome things affect you or get you down.  Jenna and Roland have the gift of letting things roll off their backs.

15.     We've had apples roll down the hill before. Our neighbor's tree overlaps into our yard.

16.     The phrase "ready to roll" means to prepare to take action.  I don't know the origin of it, but I imagine that wheels were involved - like a method of transportation.  I am ready to roll or "wheel" away.

17.  To "roll over in one's grave" implies that a deceased one would be so upset by an outcome that might make another uncomfortable.  "Uncle Bobby would roll over in his grave if he knew what you did with his inheritance money!"  is an exaggeration of the truth. Nobody is able to roll over in a grave on his/her own.  There isn't that much room in the casket anyway.

18.     I try to roll my can out to the curb each Tuesday night as it will be picked up on Wednesday morning.

19.     To "roll with the punches" means I will endure a temporary setback.  This term comes from a reaction to positioning oneself in boxing.  Roland and Jenna are also great at rolling with the punches.

20.     Tears may roll down my face.

21.     I can roll up a sleeping bag or bedroll for camp.

22.     The phrase "roll of one's tongue" means it is easy to say or pronounce. Jenna can make the word "Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia" roll off the tongue as though it is as common as "the" and "she".

23.     I can fill tortillas with a spicy meat mixture and roll them up into an enchilada.

 24.    When Jenna was a baby, she would roll from her stomach to her back and then cry because she didn't like being on her back.  She wanted to be on her stomach.

 25.    I wonder how many rolls of tickets the seniors go through during free movie day?

Will You Hand Me Some Tissues, Please?

                This is my third week taking my class called “Sociology of Ageism”.  It’s been an interesting class, but I have been on an emotional roller coaster with the topics this week.  Our discussion is on assisted living and long term health care and thus I’ve been reminiscing on what health care I would have liked for my mom versus what was settled for due to the expense.

                I was in tears during the lecture as more triggers reintroduced me to some painful times during my mother’s final years and how it affected each family member not only with my mom but with one another.  Whenever my instructor asked a question, I would provide an answer in lengthy detail to share the gist of what was felt – but not everything I felt.  It wasn’t until after class that I posted a second discussion for any who happen to watch the recording.  I shared three blog post links with explanations. 

The first one that I shared was the very first post my niece had written for her blog.  She explains how she and her husband (a newlywed couple) moved in with my mom and the trials they endured.  I share a post my brother had created about the tension that had been created among my mom’s caregivers (that would be her children and grandchildren) though it is a lengthy post which I forewarned the class about.  I also threw in one of my own just to add some humor.  Three different links: sweet, depressing and perhaps a quick smile.

I am now working on my assignment for financial resources for the elderly.  We are supposed to focus on Medicare as part of the assignment.  I am learning some things but I have not been able to keep my emotions out of it for the most part.  Next week will be the last week of this class.  The time has flown.

Christmas in late April

 
          I was sitting on the couch in our front room when I heard a knock on our back door.  What the hey?  Nobody has ever used our backdoor since we’ve lived here.  I went to the backdoor.  I didn’t see anyone.  And so I opened the front door.  I saw a UPS truck.  How odd. I didn’t think we had ordered anything.  I stuck my head out the door.  The UPS man saw me and said he had left the package on the back porch.  Okay.  We’ve never had that before either.
           
            I went to the porch to find a rather large box.  At first, I couldn’t see who it was for or from. It does not help matters that one of the last NCIS shows I have watched was about a messed up individual who sought revenge on others by mailing bombs in packages.  I finally see the return name.  It belongs to Roland’s manager. Okay.  Still wondered why it was so big. I found Roland’s name on the package and left it in his office as he was not there to open it.  He and Jenna were in Roseburg.

            When they returned, I told him about the package.  A sympathy basket sent from his work as he had asked to get time off to attend his sister’s funeral.  We ended up not going.  There are no direct flights from Oregon to Puerto Rico.  We (or he) would have had to travel the country taking a tour of airports across the nation before he could get to Puerto Rico. Anywhere from 17 – 25 hours just one way.  Too much of a gamble.  Especially when the funeral turned into “just a viewing and then a cremation”. 

 

            The gift basket was a handsome size in appearance.  None of us have gourmet taste buds.  It’s the thought that counts, right?  We appreciated the thought.  For family home evening we had a taste fest.  Roland presented Jenna with a small package of Carousel Chocolate creamy caramels.  They reminded me of the tootsie rolls candies.  The Carousels were softer than tootsie.  Jenna liked that.  The texture was okay, but I prefer the tootsie roll taste.

 

            At the same time he gave Jenna the candy, he handed me a package marked Ghirardelli Chocolate Chip Cookies. I love Ghirardelli – always have.  The cookie itself reminded me of Nabisco Chip’s Ahoy.  Overall I prefer the Chips Ahoy.  He’d seen the word “chocolate”  - I don’t know what specifically he was after.  He tried one called  Lille Chocolate Cookie Thins. He compared them to flat one-sided Oreos.  We prefer Oreos. 

 

There were also some chocolate flavored quadrotti cookies and Monica’s Brownie cookies.  It reminded us of assorted cookies that come in tins at Christmas time.  

There were Cracked Peppercorn Crackers which reminded me of tiny crip flour tortillas. 

Lots of spreads including hummus (which we didn’t open as none of us are humus fans), Sonoma Jacks Garlic & Herb Cheese Wedges which Roland had passed out to eat on their own.  The garlic was strong.  I took the cheese knife (which was included in the basket) and spread it on some crackers.  Roland said the Daniele Friuli Brand Sopressata Salame would need to be refrigerated but he and Jenna would probably eat it all before it even made it to the kitchen.  I noticed this morning that it hadn’t even been opened.

There was a hot honey mix.  They weren’t kidding.  So spicy the honey could barely be tasted. Veggie Sticks put out by the Daily Crave, two fruit delights from Liberty Orchard.  Roland cut them so we could all taste the soft candy chew with the powdered sugar.  The package had said blueberry and almond.  I thought they were good but failed to recognize what I was tasting.  

top container with hot honey mix, bottom shows cookie variety

Our favorite cookie overall was coconut flavored. She didn’t seem impressed with the Zebra Popcorn which tasted like caramel corn married a candy bar.  It was overly sweet, but I liked it.  I finished it this morning.

 

There was a Napa Valley Stone Grain Mustard which I added only a tiny bit to my potato salad that I had made on Sunday.  It gave it a nice kick.  Set the onion dip mix aside.  Will try to find a new home for the hummus, coffee, and black and green olive medley.

Gift baskets are expensive.  It’s mostly packaging, too.  For inside of each box was a pouch about half the size which contained the final product.  We managed to pile all the cookies into a lidded container.  I put the hot honey mix in a smaller container.  But if we had dumped all the open contents into just one container, it would have been the size of a small to medium mixing bowl.

 

Thank you for those who work with Roland for keeping us in your thoughts.  The taste testing was fun.

Dash 278: What Would I Be?

What color best describes your personality? Sky Blue – I like to provide hope after the storms.

What kind of zoo animal would you be? a zebra – no two zebras share the same stripes exactly.  I’d like to think of myself as one of a kind

What kind of a farm animal would you be?  cow, sometimes I don’t carry my weight very well.  I’ve been known to produce milk at one time

What kind of a household pet would you be?  dog, hopefully one who is loyal

musical instrument – a kettle drum, I can be loud, I can keep rhythm.

Tool – a pen.  What can I say? I like to write. Sometimes I don’t allow myself the opportunity to erase.

If you were a Disney Character, who would you be?  Nakoma, friend of Pocahontas.  I would rather be a supporting character than that on center stage. 

Using one word, how would you describe yourself? together

Technology replaces "old school"

          The stake has been advertising a Family History Fair which was supposed to be at the end of February but was postponed until today due to the power outage that took place.  We went to the one that was offered today.  I asked Marva if she would like to go as I thought I remembered her having some interest in family history and so I facebooked her the information.  She reminded me that she and Shelly are no longer attending Church which I knew and still don’t understand after all her hunting the missionaries down and having them teach her – but whatever.

          I told her that the FHF was advertised as a community event offered to everybody regardless of faith.  It just happened to take place at the LDS stake center (a boundary name for LDS church location) as there is information available at LDS centers that are not always offered to home accounts.  The instructor I’d gone to today was explaining different icons to be clicked on and what they meant and where they would take us.  She said there are some items of information that will not even be retrieved from the LDS family center porthole but could be found at the LDS family center in Salt Lake City.

          I remember having gone to the center several times at different stages in my lifetime.  I started out as a youth, never building a passion for genealogy, but having gone to do research.  It was back in the day before personal computers.  Nothing was digital.  We copied information by hand or else paid a dime to have a legal size page photo-copied from a copier probably made by Xerox as that is the only brand name I remember being associated with copiers. 

          We kept our papers in a legal size binder.  Usually, they had extended punches to be slipped more easily into the binder (which means they could also easier slip out) or else we could loosen the screws and even change all the pages around in a different order.  

          There was a large variety of hardcovers to choose from.

          Many had pictures of temple outlines and silhouettes.  

          I could not settle on any one temple.  I chose a white book that displayed the majority of temples in existence at that time.

          I remember my Aunt Julia coming to visit for about a week or so.  We rarely saw her.  She would leave early in the morning and stay at the Genealogy Library until it closed.  How awesome it is that technology continues to bless so many lives.

I Would Rather Do Second Grade Math than Sixth Grade

                When I subbed at the middle school last week, I was asked to fill in for the aide who works with youth who have detention or in-school suspension (ISS) as they call it.  When I arrived for her shift I saw a youth waiting in the room.  I made a comment about it when I went to sign in but thought that he was just there for homework support.  I didn’t know he had reacted to a situation (someone had been teasing him – bullying him) and got physical.  It just so happened that the dean of students saw him and wrote him up.  Nothing happened to the youth who had provoked whatever it was.

                He waited at the table with questions regarding his homework in math.  Oh, no!  I have been helping out with regrouping in second-grade math.  The sixth graders more complex problems threw me off.  I couldn’t remember any of the formulas. 

                “If Hector cuts 25 logs every 15 minutes, how many logs will he have cut in 35 minutes?”  The answers are multiple choice. I look at the choices.  36, 24, 41, 58 . . . .  I really don’t remember the choices except for 58.  I had tried doing the formula but seemed to be missing a step.

                “Well, we know that 30 minutes is twice the amount of 15 and so that would mean 50 logs.  Being that there is only one answer that gives us over 50, I would say that one.  I’m sorry I can’t figure out the formula.”

                There was another that the principal showed him was similar to another he had done on another page.  But then he had two questions that were more foreign.  What????  Math is like Klingon – I suppose there are some people who understand it.  I’m just not one of them. 

                His social studies teacher came in and looked at me.  She said, “Oh, good.  It’s you.”  Another indication that this boy (I’ll call him Sean, though that is not his real name) is basically a good kid.  More than one instructor came in throughout the day to make certain Sean hadn’t been “fed to the wolves” so to speak.  I ended up with four youth at the end of the day.  Two 6^th graders and two 7^th.  None were horribly bad in my presence, but the 7^th graders engaged in conversation, folding papers, shooting crumpled paper into the garbage, looking out the window – anything that didn’t involve education or being quiet.  They’d been warned several times NOT to talk, NOT to move from their seats, AND to spend their time wisely. 

When I was relieved for lunch, I suggested to Sean to have the other aide assist him with the problems we had missed.  When I returned a third aide was trying to figure out the problems as well.  I was so happy to realize it wasn’t just me who was having a problem.  I told Sean to tell his instructor that neither his mother nor three aides could figure it out and it was, therefore, unsolvable by any human on the planet.

By the time I left the two sixth graders were doing what they were asked.  I ended up writing up the other two.  My words may have added more in-school suspension for today.   I did not work at any of the schools today.  I chose to stay home which was wise on my part as I really haven’t felt well today. I did get my assignment finished and turned in.  Next week’s subject is Medicare.

Power in the Paddle

                I have assisted with crosswalk duty three times now.  There are four safety vests available – two are orange and two are yellow.  None will fit around me enough to close.

            There are two stop signs.  The one for the street is fastened to a pole about four feet long.  The other is fastened to a short stick.  

The short one is for the parking lot.  The cars in the street don’t always move at a slow pace, but the parking lot cars are generally moving slower.  Sometimes they will stop before the crossing guard walks halfway into the crosswalk.

            I have always been in the parking lot.  I must say that I do enjoy the sensation of holding up the sign in order to get drivers to stop and wait as children and adults are given the opportunity to cross from one sidewalk to another.