I am not making this up

When I pulled my husband’s car out of the garage on Sunday morning, it made a horrible screeching noise as I was backing up.  Uh oh!  Sounds like brake work is needed.  I pulled forward again, but didn’t hear the screeching.  Backed up, heard it again.  It was loud!  So I went and got My Man because since the Third Century, that’s what a woman is trained to do when the car is making a noise.

He came down, and I gesticulated haplessly at the car.  But he was in his slippers, and preferred to listen from the doorway while I went out and drove the car back and forth to demonstrate the nefarious noise.  I did, but the car purred like a kitten.  So my husband had the privilege of saying to me, “I don’t hear anything,” which is what husbands have been saying to their wives since the Third Century.  I had to admit that I didn’t hear anything either.  So I drove off to church, and the car hasn’t made that noise since then.

I also have okay eyesight. I can tell when there is water dripping from the garbage disposal.  It happened several times last week, and I saw it with my own eyes.  So of course, being a Third Century housewife, I told my husband about it.  He called the plumber and started researching garbage disposal prices. We even had a date at Home Depot to window shop in the garbage disposal section. But the plumber couldn’t come right away.  On my husband’s part, doubt set in. He ran the garbage disposal himself.  No dripping.  And it hasn’t dripped since then.

Today I was out running errands.  I spent over an hour in Target, leaving my poor car to shiver in the windy, snowy parking lot.  This is a different car than the car in paragraph 2, but it must have heard that the joke was on. When I was done, I started to drive home, and noticed a light on the dashboard.  The light was shaped like an elephant foot with an exclamation point inside of it. I wisely continued to drive home, since stopping to look at the car would mean freezing my tailbone off, and I didn’t see any elephants.

I got home, pulled the car in the garage, and phoned my husband, sighing in a Third-Century-woman sort of way.  He agreed that I needed to get it fixed.  But first, I decided to look up the elephant-foot symbol in the car manual.  It turns out it is the “Low Tire Pressure” indicator.  When this light comes on you are supposed to pull over immediately to check your tire pressure.  Oops.  In the dim garage light, I looked at the tires with my keen eyesight, and saw nothing wrong with them.

I am expecting that my husband will come home, drive the car, and the light will go off.   And he will get to say the other thing that husbands have said to their wives since the Third Century:  “It’s all in your head, dear.”

Humming Along

It’s about time I turned to Advent – we’re already a week and a half into it. Luckily for me, Advent is not a one-day holiday, but a season, a time of anticipation and preparation.  Also a time of realizing that it really is too late to plant the daffodil bulbs.  This year it seems to be a season of excessive talk about Likiweaks.

Last night at dinner, Youngest Daughter asked, “Is there a song that goes, It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas?"  Her Dad replied by singing, “Toys in every store” and I replied by grousing, “Yeah, even the bookstore has been taken over by toys.”  Our daughter decided that was her cue to sing those two lines over and over, forgetting the Common Household ban on singing at the dinner table.

That song talks about preparation of a sort.  The fact is that it began to a lot like Christmas in the stores in about mid-October.  Please, let’s not rush things.  This week I have running through my head a song about a different sort of preparation.

Verse 1
People, look east. The time is near 
Of the crowning of the year.
Make your house fair as you are able,
Trim the hearth and set the table.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the guest, is on the way.

I like this Advent hymn because it is grounded in reality (but loaded with metaphor too). Other Advent hymns are more monumental (Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence, y’all) which is wonderful, too, but this one takes place right here in my house and back yard.  I guess that’s the point of Advent and Christmas.  It’s like our preacher two weeks ago pointed out: Advent is about preparing for the in-breaking of God’s kingdom on earth.

The first verse starts with a GPS instruction and a calendar reference. “People, look east. The time is near for the crowning of the year”.  I don’t use a GPS, but the calendar rules my life, so this puts me on familiar ground.   Next comes a Martha Stewart admonition, but with mercy built in.  Martha would say, “Make your house fair,” but the poet, wisely not expecting me to live up to Martha’s heavenly standards, adds “as you are able.”  I don’t know about trimming the hearth, but I have been trying to trim certain areas by going to Jazzercize more often in these few weeks before the next festive feast.   The kids usually set the table, so we’re on top of that one.

The other verses (below) are more nature-y: furrows, birds, stars. And wintry – bare earth, frozen wings, frosty weather.  We’ve got that covered too, at the moment.  Last Friday the marching band nearly froze at the football game.  We’ve already got 4 inches of snow on the ground, and it’s only December 9th.  But in the midst of all this cold and bleak stuff, there is hope.  Love is on the way.  I hope so, because what the world needs now is love, sweet love.

At the end of each verse this hymn helps us toward the right attitude about all these preparations – Sing!  You’ve got a guest coming!  Love is the guest!

I must remember that it doesn’t say,
“Shop!  The guest is on the way!”
  “Vacuum! The guest is on the way!”*
“Eat! The guest is on the way!”
It’s good to do all those things in preparation for a guest, but even better if it is possible to sing at the same time.

So whether you are observing Advent, Hanukkah, Winter Solstice, Football Season, or Garbage Day, how about a song to go with it?  Go ahead – set every peak and valley humming, because...


It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas; 
Soon the bells will start, 
And the thing that will make them ring
Is the carol that you sing 
Right within your heart.

*Good thing, because the vacuum cleaner is broken.

People, Look East
by Eleanor Farjeon

1. People, look east. The time is near
Of the crowning of the year.
Make your house fair as you are able,
Trim the hearth and set the table.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the guest, is on the way.

2. Furrows, be glad. Though earth is bare,
One more seed is planted there:
Give up your strength the seed to nourish,
That in course the flower may flourish.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the rose, is on the way.

3. Birds, though you long have ceased to build,
Guard the nest that must be filled.
Even the hour when wings are frozen
God for fledging time has chosen.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the bird, is on the way.

4. Stars, keep the watch. When night is dim
One more light the bowl shall brim,
Shining beyond the frosty weather,
Bright as sun and moon together.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the star, is on the way.

5. Angels, announce with shouts of mirth
Christ who brings new life to earth.
Set every peak and valley humming
With the word, the Lord is coming.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the Lord, is on the way.

One more light the bowl shall brim

Shining beyond the frosty weather

Moving Right Along

Here is the turkey that my brother brought for Thanksgiving.

If we had eaten that turkey and its stuffing, we would have been excused from Jazzercize class yesterday.

I have more to say about Thanksgiving, but it’s time to move on.  No lolling about in the Common Household, because the next holiday is upon us – Chanukah starts tomorrow night!

What does this mean?  First of all, it means more food, of course.  Not having fully recovered from the carbohydrate- and fat-laden Thanksgiving table, we forge ahead to the potato latkes which await us.  Well, they don’t await us; we have to make them.  This year we will not be making Boy Scout Latkes, but will go for the traditional recipe, partly because we have 9 pounds of potatoes to use up.

Latkes are served with applesauce, but don’t let that fool you into thinking that they are low-fat.  The reason latkes are traditional at Chanukah is because of the OIL.  Most Jewish holidays are designed to remind us of a previous holy event.  (I guess that’s true for Christian holidays, too.) The oil for the latkes reminds us of the holy oil for the menorah in the Original Temple in Jerusalem.   Anybody who wants to hear more on why oil was so important should speak up in the comments, and I’d be happy to explain.

After focusing on latkes, we had better revert to more inflatable turkey (very low in calories) and Jazzercize.

Common Household Potato Latkes

Takes about 15 minutes to mix; about 1 hour to cook the entire batch.
Makes about 40-50 3-inch latkes

cheese cloth (or thin towel)
5 large baking potatoes = 10 cups potatoes, grated in
food processor or by hand
1/2 cup diced onions (finely diced)
3/8 cup flour
1 1/2 tsp salt
 1/8 tsp pepper
3 eggs
about 1 cup oil, total

Dice the onions first.  Grate potatoes.  Put grated potatoes into the cheese cloth, and when you get a critical mass, squeeze out excess liquid as you go along (this helps keep it from getting brown too soon).  Put squeezed potatoes into bowl, and keep covered as you go along.

Mix together onion and potatoes. Add flour, salt, pepper, and eggs.  Stir.  Let sit for 5 minutes.

Get ready for finished latkes by putting paper towel out on plate.

Put 2 Tbsp oil in pan.

Make the pancakes small (about 3 inches diameter) and flatten them out when you put them in the frying pan.    Fry in oil until brown.  Remove from frying pan and place on paper towel in a single layer.

Add oil to pan as needed.  It probably uses a total of 1 cup of oil.

Thanksgiving Conversion

Tonight I made an advance attack on Thanksgiving meal prep.  There is already an arsenal of pies (one apple, one apple & raisin) in the freezer.  Tonight’s task was to make the green bean casserole.

Some of you have had your gravy made and frozen since the first frost back in October.  That is excellent Original Pioneer Suburban Housewife planning! You should give yourselves pats on your backs. But this is as far in advance as the Common Household Mom can cook.  Anything done ahead of time is in great risk of being eaten before the big feast.

It was a surprise, the first time we hosted Thanksgiving at our house, to find that the Common Household Husband feels that it just isn’t Thanksgiving without Green Bean Casserole.  He had politely done without it, for lo all those Thanksgivings, since he wasn’t the host.  I have usually looked askance at serving anything that comes from a can at a fancy meal.   I could just imagine the Joy of Cooking recipe for this culinary delight:  “Read: About Opening Cans, p. 246.”

Once I saw how my husband’s eyes lit up at the thought of two cans of green beans, one can of cream of mushroom soup and one can of petrified French fried onions, I knew that we had to serve this dish.  It was very popular the first time, and every time thereafter.  It is also the easiest Thanksgiving recipe ever invented. So much for scoffing at cans.  I am converted.   I no longer use Joy of Cooking either.  It requires too much advance reading.

But I will also honor my personal tradition of serving fresh vegetables.  In addition to green bean casserole, we will also be having caramelized Brussels sprouts and roasted root vegetables (yams, carrots, and onions).

What kind of vegetables will you be serving this Thanksgiving?

French’s Green Bean Casserole

(from the French’s Fried Onions can)

1 (10.5 ounce) can cream of mushroom soup
¾ cup milk
1/8 tsp black pepper
2 (14.5 oz.) cans French style green beans, drained 
OR 2 (9 oz) pkgs frozen cut green beans, thawed
1 (2.8 oz) can French’s French Fried Onions (original) = 1 1/3 cups (split in half)


Mix soup and milk, then add pepper, drained beans, and 2/3 cup (half of the can) of onions in 1 ½ qt. casserole dish.
Bake at 350F for 30 minutes or until hot.  Stir.
Top with remaining onions.  Bake 5 minutes.


Note: You can make this ahead of time, but in that case don’t put the onions on top until the last 5 minutes of reheating.


Psst.  I make it with skim milk and lower fat soup.  Shhh.

Permission Granted

On Saturday I spent two hours cleaning out the refrigerator.  This was partly to escape testosterone.  That morning I went over to church to help at the semi-annual work day, where we all pitch in to clean up the church campus.  I brought my rake and work gloves.  But when I got there the place was crawling with Cub Scouts and men armed with leaf blowers.  The noise was unbearable, and my rake was not infused with enough testosterone to be effective.

So I told everyone I had to go home and clean my refrigerator.  When you tell people at church you are going to do a particular thing, you had probably better make it turn into the truth.  The truth is that cleaning the refrigerator was already on my list of things to do.  It is an annual ritual I perform as part of my preparations for Thanksgiving.  The problem is that there are still 7 days left for it to get dirty and filled up with toxic leftovers.

In honor of all the people who work hard to make Thanksgiving gatherings possible, I post this Note of Permission.  It was issued by Youngest Daughter in July, but I keep it posted on the refrigerator to remind me that someday it might actually come true.

It reads, “Dear Mommy,

This is your day off.  Today, you are not allowed to do any work.  Instead, you can do whatever you like.  Read, rest, and watch some TV.  It will help a lot with stress.  I heart u!  Sincerely, Youngest Daughter.  P.S.  Computer work does count.”

So, Dear Reader, go sit down.  Relax. Read a book.  Watch TV.  Ignore the yard filling up with leaves, the fridge filling up with leftovers, and the laundry baskets filling up with clothes.  Take a pre-holiday Sabbath.  It might be the last chance you get to sit down for a while.

Thanks for One Last Pie

I love Thanksgiving.  Some people feel it is just an attempt to make us feel that God blesses overeating.  Some people don’t even bother to give thanks to God before the overeating.  Some people have difficulty getting along with the family who show up.  But I like the gathering of family, preparing the food (as long as you don’t try to run my kitchen), giving thanks to God, enjoying the meal together, singing Thanksgiving hymns, lounging around after the meal, and doing writing challenges.

This year one of the things we will give thanks for is the final fruit of our apple tree (may it compost in peace).  Today Youngest Daughter and I made a pie out of the last apples I managed to pick from the tree before it was put out of its misery.  My niece has accused me of being a murderer for having this tree cut down.  On Thanksgiving I will offer her a piece of this pie as repentance.

And as a final tribute, I offer this living art:  The Common Household Husband as Apple Tree, posing on the very spot where the dear tree itself once stood.  What are your thoughts about Thanksgiving?

Halloween Science

Dear Mr. Chemistry Teacher,

Thank you for the inspiring pre-Halloween demonstrations you gave to your chemistry classes last week.  My son told me that you showed how to make flames come out of the eyes of a jack-o-lantern, and you also set the top of the desk on fire.  My son was so impressed that he decided to try the flaming jack-o-lantern feat himself.  We were visiting my brothers (his uncles) who were happy to egg him on in pursuit of this goal.

I was relieved when my son said that he planned to use ordinary all-purpose flour, rather than flash powder which you used in your demonstration. 

He carved a traditional scary face into his pumpkin.  Then he looked for a candle to put inside the jack-o-lantern.  A tea light proved to be too small, so his uncle took a thicker, fancier candle (belonging to his wife, who was not around) and sliced it in half so that it would be the correct height.  Next was the search for an appropriate tube to blow air through. A straw didn’t work, but a turkey baster promised to do the trick. 

Next my son needed a fire-proof shallow dish to put the flour in.  First he tried a metal cup.  After numerous unsuccessful trials, which blew flour all over the inside of the pumpkin and repeatedly blew out the candle, he determined that edge of the cup was too high.  So his uncle then supplied him with a small paper plate to put the flour on.  This is the same uncle who, when he goes hiking and encounters a sign saying “Danger – Path Closed – Turn Back Now” goes right on ahead down the path. 

After my son achieved the right conditions – success!  Man, those flames shooting out of that pumpkin were impressive!  It was very exciting to see a home-made science demonstration work right before our eyes.  We put the pumpkin on the front porch, and after a few more fiery demonstrations, my son went off trick-or-treating, leaving the candle lit inside his pumpkin.  I stayed home with his aunt to hand out candy.  She did not seem to miss her fancy candle.

After a while we noticed that if we kept the front door open any length of time, the smoke from the pumpkin would set off the smoke alarm inside the house.  So we closed the door.  Soon after that, the doorbell rang.  I opened the door to see a large group of costumed preschool-aged kids and their mothers. I expected to hear “trick or treat” but instead, one of the mothers said, in a calm voice, “Your pumpkin is on fire.  I think you need some water.”  I looked down and saw flames shooting out of the pumpkin, even without any turkey baster action on the flour.  I took the lid off the pumpkin, looked in, and saw that the paper plate and flour-coated insides of the pumpkin were fully ablaze.  I quickly got some water and dumped it in the pumpkin.

Our next science lesson here at home will be to review the meaning of “fire-proof.”  I just wanted to thank you for providing a very extra-exciting Halloween for us, and for continuing to make science an interesting school subject.  However, if my son decides to replicate the light-the-desk-on-fire demonstration, I think I will encourage him to do that at school.

            Sincerely,

            The Common Household Mom