Why The Face?

The PD register is at 129. WTF? Or as the dad, who thinks he's cool, on my new favorite tv show Modern Family says, "Why The Face?"



129. 129? As Kolbi would say, Goshdarnit!

It's never going to happen. Is it? Is it? Grr.

I've been distracted lately. Ya'think?

I mailed a letter two days ago that got returned today. Turns out I addressed it to "Sara." That's all. Nothing else. I guess the last name and address, city, state and zip do matter.

An Australian chef I met in London and used to date in college found me on facebook. Turns out he's now a "celebrity" chef who owns restaurants in Tokyo, San Francisco, Sydney, Los Angeles, among other places, he has written 4 books and has been on numerous TV shows. He has knives, spices and pans with his name on them. He's friends with Paris. And Martha. Good for him.

One hundred and twenty freakin' nine.

So the plan to remove one bag of things a day from the house hasn't been going great yet. HOWEVER, I didn't get a bag out yesterday, but got TWO bags out today. So, I figure, I'm good.

I should get dinner started. I bought a steak. Which is interesting. My husband is a vegetarian.
Why The Face?

111

I've recovered. I think. 

The PD register is up to 111. German lessons are ongoing, bleeding us dry.

My dog rolled in poo. 

I wonder if I could fill (and remove from the house) one bag of stuff a day.

I have booked myself a massage for today.

Here's a random song:

Karma?

My in-laws celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary this summer. 50 years. That's a long time to be with someone. God bless them. It's longer than five days. But five days is nothing to scoff at.

I love them.

They are good people. 

They have left the building. Dancing might have ensued. It might have been me dancing the jig. 

Here are a few more gems from the visit (true):

• Father-in-law told (again) how he caught dozens (hundreds?) of frogs by lulling them with the sound of a tractor. Then ate their legs.
• Mother-in-law elaborated about how milk and her system don't get along. In detail.
• Father-in-law told us he likes our dog. Then talked about his own beloved childhood dog. When it got old and sick he shot it, between the eyes. 
• I was washing the china, my mother-in-law was rinsing, my husband was drying. My husband kept rejecting my mother-in-law's rinsing, saying there were still bubbles on the dishes. My Mother-in-law looked at me and said, "Well, she's using too much soap." My Hubby said, "No, you need to use more water."
• Father-in-law said that once people come to American they need to just be "American" and learn English.
• Father-in-law said he's having a little trouble with his eyes. And driving. Just words. And shapes.
• Mother-in-law said she was glad hubby was trying to do the FS thing if he really wanted to. But she certainly wouldn't want to. My husband had asked her directly: What do you think about the Foreign Service, Mom?
• Hubby and I beat the in-laws in a game last night. Fist-bumped in triumph. I said it felt good to be on a winning team for once. Mother-in-law agreed and said I was often a loser. (I am not making this shit up!)

So, that will be all. I apologize for talking too much about my in-laws. I'm a jerk right? I am pretty sure I am a terrible person. I'm heading to H-E- double hockey sticks. Maybe the worst daughter-in-law ever. But seriously, it's a screenplay, being with them. I keep looking for the hidden cameras.

There was a plan for this morning: Hubby leaves for work, kids leave on bus, in-laws leave. Dancing.

Here's how it really went down: Hubby has been coughing, aching and sick for three days. Thinks he has ear infections. This morning he secretly calls in sick. Secretly makes doctors appointment. Gets dressed for work. (In-laws disapprove of anyone ever calling in sick, ever. It shows weakness and a poor work ethic. Plus leads to lectures of indiscriminate length. Yeah, we're in our late 30s, but don't you judge.) Husband pretends to leave for work, wearing a tie. He plans to go study German, then to his doctor's appointment. There are good-byes, hugs, waves, thanks for coming, see you this summer. Then Hubby backs his car out of the garage directly into his Dad's Lincoln parked in the driveway. Smash!
Is this Karma?

Dinner conversation

The setting: Easter dinner table. Using the Wedgwood china and good silver.
The cast: Husband, Father-in-law, Mother-in-law, me, my mother, my three children.
Background: In-laws are Catholic of German heritage farm families. My mother is a WASP, English/Scot heritage, grew up in a house with a living room that was to be looked at not used, believes tea fixes multitudes of maladies. Hubby's parents are 15 years older than my mom.

My husband makes attempt to bridge generational/background gap between our parents with leading line of questions.

Hubby to his mother: "Mom, what kinds of traditions did your family have around Easter? Did you eat ham for dinner?"
Mother-in-law: "Oh, yeah. We'd butcher a pig in the fall of the year and cut off all the rough bits then rub it with salt and hot pepper to keep out the insects from burrowing into the flesh and then we'd let it age for six months. You could let it sit out for a full year just in the air. It would get harder and harder. Now they brine ham. And we'd boil the head and all the bits and it would gel together to make pontis (sp?), and oh, that was good, that would last a long time. You'd just slice off a hunk every day. And with the intestines, you'd make them into sausage and then blood sausage and, really, you'd use every part of the animal ....."
Father-in-law: "Mmm, blood sausage. What, it's just the solid part of the meat. What?"
Me: "Well, this has turned into quite the horror show."
Hubby: "Yeah, not really where I thought the holiday traditions conversation would go."
My mother: "Shall we serve the cheesecake and get the kettle on?"

Easter bunny.

Setting: Easter morning. Kitchen table. Windows slightly open. Birds chirping. Sun dappled through trees.


Five year old daughter (big smiles): "Mama, look at the cute white stuffed bunny that was in my Easter basket this morning!"
Seven year old son: "And I got a bunny in my basket too."
Me: "Wow. Oh, so cute!"
Mother-in-law (looking at me and hubby): "Oh, you put the Easter baskets in their rooms last night?"


...crickets...


Mother-in-law: "...uh, I mean the Easter bunny put the baskets in their rooms..."
Seven year old son (Looking at us): "You are the Easter bunny."
Me (passive-aggressively tapping my hard boiled egg on my plate to crack it while narrowing my eyes at my husband.

In-law report

Thurs. PM
The in-laws arrive at 5:00, I have dinner ready. My hubby arrives at 5:10. We eat ravioli, sauce, green beans, crusty bread. (I didn't mention before, but my husband comes from a donut empire ...ta-dah!... light shining down from the heavens, as angels sing...) Grandma and Grandpa reveal the TWO huge boxes of donuts made from their shops. We eat those and raspberries and strawberries for dessert. S has a cub scout meeting at 6:30. My hubby and father-in-law take S to the meeting. The other two kiddies and Grandma stay home and we go for a walk with the dog in the woods. Later, the kids have showers, then play war and rummy with Grandma and Grandpa. All is well. Smiles. Happiness. After the kids go to bed, we adults play Rummikub until midnight. Foreign service mentions: zero.

Good Friday
Up early, 7 am, cereal and leftover donuts for breakfast. Rummy, war, connect four. The weather is lovely. High temp of 78. We spend most of the day outside on the deck and in the wooded backyard. The boys make a bird house, play in the teepee in the woods, get out the bows and arrows. C makes an ant house. And paints it. We sit in the adirondack chairs. I make broccoli cheese soup and crusty bread for lunch, no meat, it's good friday. More games are played. We eat dinner out. Again, no meat. We come home and play some more games. We get the kids ready for bed. Once they are in bed, the adults play Sequence until 11:30. I find myself getting snippy. I am on the losing team all 3 games. I am accused of table talk. Foreign service mentions: zero.

Saturday noon (That's now)

I woke up at 6:45 with my back aching and my ass on the floor, as the air mattress deflates slowly during the night. C was grinning at me from her bed, "Good morning, Mama." We give my in-laws our wonderful comfy king size bed when they visit. I don't mind. I actually suggest it. They are in their 70s and he has bad hips and knees. Hubby and I sleep on the air mattress on the floor in C's room. I am reminded of a chart I remember seeing in the blog Diplolife. There may be parallels between cultural adaptation and in-law adaptation. Just a thought.

Here it is:

Stages of In-Law Adaptation?

Anyhow, I make pancakes and bacon for breakfast. Then I make a plan to head to the grocery store. My mother-in-law offers to accompany me. Because I wouldn't want to have any quiet or anything.

Right now I'm sitting out on the deck and Frank Sinatra is playing on the ipod bose speaker thingy and my hubby and his parents are playing rummy. The kids and the neighbor kids are playing in the woods. It's 85 degrees. I better start fixing lunch. Then it's on to egg dyeing. 

_hore chart.

I cleaned a lot today.
I mean a lot.
LOT. And there ain't no maid. Just me.

My kids are at school. They have helped a bit.

The 3 kids have a Chore Chart. Which, by the way, if mis-printed, is way different and much funnier to mom when it is entitled Whore Chart. Just one letter, a world of difference.

It's the little things in life. I think I might be twelve.