Emily served brandied fruit over ice cream. It looks so good, doesn’t it?
Here is a picture of my brandied peaches sitting on the countertop, aging. The syrup tasted good; in a few weeks, we will find out how the peaches taste.
I did not open the jar of cherries my father-in-law preserved. Those cherries have sat beneath the bar for about 28 years; I didn’t have the heart to open them. Someday Cole may be able to show them to his children and say, “Your great-grandfather preserved these cherries back in 1982, before even I was even born.” What a great show-and-tell for Cole’s future children to take to school.
Let’s muse about show-and-tell. Cole loved show-and-tell.
Joe and I were painting Cole’s room. Actually, Joe was painting Cole’s room. Joe was the messiest man on the face of the earth, except when he painted. I’m a neat and tidy person, but all I have to do is look at paint and it is all over me, the carpet, and any pups within arm’s distance. Joe painted and I cleaned up. Do you want to know what color we were painting Cole’s room? Of course you do –Thunderbird Blue. Now, please let me continue. I was moving boy toys out of Joe’s way when I stepped backwards, tripped over a small toy box, and fell. Joe looked at me yowling in pain, wiped off his paintbrush, and came over to inspect my ankle, which seemed to have a piece of bone sticking out of it. When Joe said, “We are going to the emergency room,” I knew I was dying. Joe believed that Bondit, hydrogen peroxide, Carmex, and an Ace bandage could solve all medical emergencies; for him to suggest a trip to the emergency room clearly meant my demise was in sight. However, then he leaned down closer to inspect my ankle and said, “Wait right here” – and raced out of the room.
Joe returned with a very large pair of pliers.
As I started to wither and crawl away, Joe picked up Cole’s wooden dagger and explained that my ankle must have landed on the dagger when I fell. When he looked at my ankle the first time he thought bone was sticking out, but it wasn’t bone at all…nope. It was the long tip of Cole’s wooden dagger which had broken off, and was now stuck in the side of my ankle. The plan was to it pull if out of my ankle with the pliers.
Why oh why hadn’t we given Cole toy guns to play with, instead of wooden daggers? Joe approached me with pilers….
I asked for a shot of coke…
and a bullet to bit on….
Joe told me to close my eyes, and then he took the pliers and removed the dagger tip from my ankle, washed my wound, poured hydrogen peroxide over it, added a little Carmex for luck, and wrapped and covered it with an Ace bandage. My hero.
Yes! Absolutely! It hurt!!!
Cole was at school while all this excitement was going on, but the minute he saw my wound he became wound up with excitement. First he examined the dagger, which had blood on it, and then when I showed him the tip of the dagger that had been pulled out of my ankle, you would have thought Santa Claus had just walked through the door.
The next day was Cole’s turn for show-and-tell! He colored the sword tip red for effect
and then carefully put it into a plastic bag. He could hardly wait to take it to school the next day. Several of Cole’s friends told him that it was the best show-and-tell EVER. I was proud.
My grandmother used to say that if you want to entertain children, buy a duck and let them watch it nibble you to death. In other words, kids love gore.
We never topped that show-and-tell.
Muse with me. Do you have a show-and-tell story to share?? Odd Loves Company!