My wife cried out in desperation, “Why are they not rising?!?”
“Why are what not rising?” I asked as I looked at the obviously deformed buns in the bun pan. I was trying to quell my wife’s consternation over the “Now what are we gonna do about the bread for the Thanksgiving meal” problem.
Bread is an important part of most of our meals. Not having bread is like…well it’s like not having snow at Christmas or not having Hank Williams, Jr. sing “Are You Ready For Some Football?” on Monday nights.
We were heading to my daughter’s for Thanksgiving and my wife’s assignment was to bring a couple pies and THE BREAD.
So the other day she hollered down to me, “Will fifteen buns be enough?”
“Yep,” said I, “Ten for me, three for you, and two for Amber oughta do it.”
So she plopped 15 little frozen premade bun dough hockey pucks into the bun pan and put it into the fridge so that they could thaw and rise in unison.
But alas, when she pulled them out of the fridge, the nine toward the fridge door were bigger than the six toward the back of the fridge. After some scientific investigation, we could only surmise that it was like 20 degrees colder at the back end of the 18” pan than it was at the front. Maybe global warming was creeping into the fridge.
So she put them on the stove to see if that would snap the runt buns out of the doldrums.
But regrettably, when we got home from work, they were still smaller!
The nine toward the front of normal size (heretofore known simply as “The Nine”) were noticeably bigger than the abnormal six (heretofore known simply as “The Six”). We were both peering into the pan like bug scientists gazing at a new species.
I asked her if this had ever happened before. With a furrowed brow and a look of “Thanksgiving is ruint!” she said simply, “THIS has NEVER happened before!”
I asked her if she could just mix the runtbuns in with the normalbuns and perhaps that would inspire them to say, “Hey, I can rise to higher heights, look at that guy!”
But she wasn’t listening. And for the life of me I honestly couldn’t see the problem. Like Big Hairy Deal if the smaller buns are somewhat smaller than the others. It’s not like we are baking bread for Sean Connery or Tom Cruise or something. I would still eat them. Consider the six runts as part of my allotted ten. Good gravey! And besides, we’ll save on butter.
She grabbed another baking pan and dropped in some frozen premade dough nuggets. (I sorta remember an episode of "Little House on the Prairie" where Pa worked hard all day in the field harvesting dough balls and then gave them to Ma where she in turn froze them so that they could have bread in the winter.)
I didn’t ask, but I just assumed that my wife was going to somehow get 15 buns of proportional size so that her daughter wouldn’t think she was a total failure.
I thought about just getting up real early Thanksgiving Day and replacing the six dough balls in the new pan with six miniature marshmallows.
On the other hand, I wanted to be able to see the football game out of both eyes.
Hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving :>)
Dan Vander Ark
Copyright 2011
All Rights Reserved
Friday, November 25, 2011
A Ninny In An Audi, A Big Tall Flappy Monster, And Other Totally Unrelated Random Thoughts
A few months ago my wife went to check the mail. As she rummaged through the bills she suddenly started laughing uncontrollably. I mean “milk-coming-out-your-nose” type of laughter. She hollered down the stairs to me, “Honey, you’re officially old!” At first I couldn’t understand what she was saying because she was laughing so hard. “You got a letter from “The Scooter Store!” Well that’s just swell…now I don’t have to call in sick anymore, I can just call in “old.”
On our way home from work each day we pass through some pretty busy intersections. At the corner of Michigan Street and 27th Avenue, a guy in an Audi cut right in front of me. I couldn’t believe it! What Audiacity! Kay fired a verbal barb out the windshield, “What a Ninny!” Then I fired my verbal laser beam, “Yeah, he’s a Ninny in an Audi!” We both laughed.
Often on our way to work we see the guy in the Duluth Police Parking Enforcement Vehicle. Its sort of a modified three-wheeler with an enclosure so the Enforcer won’t get cold or rained on. And it says “Interceptor” on the bumper (I am not making that up). I wonder if he’s ever been on any high speed chases? Maybe when a toddler is trying to escape on his Big Wheels.
A while back when I went to fill up our car with almost $4.00 per gallon gas, about a cup full spilled onto the ground when I put the nozzle in. I almost threw my sweatshirt on the ground to try to soak it up so I could squeeze it into the tank. When the travel center attendant gave me my credit card receipt, I thanked him for my copy of the loan. He didn’t laugh.
And when did they stop calling them gas stations and start calling them travel plazas?
When I was watching the Daytona 500 this past February I noticed the peculiar way those guys were drafting off from each other. The announcers marveled at the way the drivers could pair up at speeds of up to 200 mph – front bumper actually touching the rear bumper – and push/pull each other around the track. I thought to myself, “Hey that’s not so special – that looks like my daughter Amber driving down Highway 2!”
When we went to the Big Box Department store, as we were checking out they asked me to input my zip code. I keyed in 90210.
My grandson and I went to Best Buy a while back to look at really cool stuff (we could spend all day in there). When I got out of my truck I pointed out to him a pretty impressive looking Ford F150. His dad is a Ford guy, so I figured he was gonna be a Ford guy. So I asked him, “I suppose when you get old enough to drive you’re gonna be a Ford guy, huh?”
His reply? Noah, age 9, replied with a grin, “I’m gonna be a What-I-can-afFord” guy.
You know those really tall, skinny inflatable things that you see in front of car dealers and other businesses? They flap up and down like a rag doll attempting to find a backbone as they try to stay inflated. I wonder how much business they really bring in? Or how many kids have nightmares from those things and are permanently scarred for life. “No no no Daddy!!! I don’t want to go to that place with the tall creepy flappy monster!”
When our daughters stayed at my mom and dad’s place, we always had to take the two dolls (with faces made from dried apples) off the dresser and put them in the closet so that they could sleep at night. I guess the heads did look pretty creepy – blackened dried apples molded into the shape of faces. They looked like some Amazon shrunken heads.
I wonder what’s more damaging for kids….creepy dried apple face people or creepy tall flappy monsters?
Kay has a lot of her cosmetics in a very colorful plastic box that looks an awful lot like a tackle box. I am not sure why I typed that, I guess I just thought you should know. One of these days I’m gonna a put a Rapala in it. Or a Power Worm.
I want to drive around town sometime dressed in a gorilla suit with the window down. And when someone pulls up along side of me at the stop light, I’ll just look over and give them a “Yo, whazzup?” That would be funny.
I got a John Deere letter the other day from my tractor. Seems its leaving me for a bigger farm.
A few months ago I bought a magazine at Barnes and Noble. The lady at the checkout asked if I wanted a bag. I was only halfway paying attention to her question because I was trying to figure out if I had enough cash of if I should use my credit card or if I should ask my wife to pay for it. I was looking at my billfold and said to her, “Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.” When I looked up she was sort of grinning and giving me a “this isn’t that hard of question” look. When we got in the car, Kay said I should have asked her to repeat the question.
At my wife’s place of employment someone brought in several bouquets of lilacs to sit around the office area. They looked beautiful (she brought one home) and smelled wonderful. But they were aggravating someone’s allergies so they had to put all the lilacs in the men’s room (don’t ask me why the men’s room). A couple days later as we headed to work I commented to my wife on how great her perfume smelled.
“It’s lilacs!” she replied.
I asked with great concern in my voice, “They’re not going to make you sit in the men’s room all day are they?”
Dan Vander Ark
Copyright 2011
All Rights Reserved
On our way home from work each day we pass through some pretty busy intersections. At the corner of Michigan Street and 27th Avenue, a guy in an Audi cut right in front of me. I couldn’t believe it! What Audiacity! Kay fired a verbal barb out the windshield, “What a Ninny!” Then I fired my verbal laser beam, “Yeah, he’s a Ninny in an Audi!” We both laughed.
Often on our way to work we see the guy in the Duluth Police Parking Enforcement Vehicle. Its sort of a modified three-wheeler with an enclosure so the Enforcer won’t get cold or rained on. And it says “Interceptor” on the bumper (I am not making that up). I wonder if he’s ever been on any high speed chases? Maybe when a toddler is trying to escape on his Big Wheels.
A while back when I went to fill up our car with almost $4.00 per gallon gas, about a cup full spilled onto the ground when I put the nozzle in. I almost threw my sweatshirt on the ground to try to soak it up so I could squeeze it into the tank. When the travel center attendant gave me my credit card receipt, I thanked him for my copy of the loan. He didn’t laugh.
And when did they stop calling them gas stations and start calling them travel plazas?
When I was watching the Daytona 500 this past February I noticed the peculiar way those guys were drafting off from each other. The announcers marveled at the way the drivers could pair up at speeds of up to 200 mph – front bumper actually touching the rear bumper – and push/pull each other around the track. I thought to myself, “Hey that’s not so special – that looks like my daughter Amber driving down Highway 2!”
When we went to the Big Box Department store, as we were checking out they asked me to input my zip code. I keyed in 90210.
My grandson and I went to Best Buy a while back to look at really cool stuff (we could spend all day in there). When I got out of my truck I pointed out to him a pretty impressive looking Ford F150. His dad is a Ford guy, so I figured he was gonna be a Ford guy. So I asked him, “I suppose when you get old enough to drive you’re gonna be a Ford guy, huh?”
His reply? Noah, age 9, replied with a grin, “I’m gonna be a What-I-can-afFord” guy.
You know those really tall, skinny inflatable things that you see in front of car dealers and other businesses? They flap up and down like a rag doll attempting to find a backbone as they try to stay inflated. I wonder how much business they really bring in? Or how many kids have nightmares from those things and are permanently scarred for life. “No no no Daddy!!! I don’t want to go to that place with the tall creepy flappy monster!”
When our daughters stayed at my mom and dad’s place, we always had to take the two dolls (with faces made from dried apples) off the dresser and put them in the closet so that they could sleep at night. I guess the heads did look pretty creepy – blackened dried apples molded into the shape of faces. They looked like some Amazon shrunken heads.
I wonder what’s more damaging for kids….creepy dried apple face people or creepy tall flappy monsters?
Kay has a lot of her cosmetics in a very colorful plastic box that looks an awful lot like a tackle box. I am not sure why I typed that, I guess I just thought you should know. One of these days I’m gonna a put a Rapala in it. Or a Power Worm.
I want to drive around town sometime dressed in a gorilla suit with the window down. And when someone pulls up along side of me at the stop light, I’ll just look over and give them a “Yo, whazzup?” That would be funny.
I got a John Deere letter the other day from my tractor. Seems its leaving me for a bigger farm.
A few months ago I bought a magazine at Barnes and Noble. The lady at the checkout asked if I wanted a bag. I was only halfway paying attention to her question because I was trying to figure out if I had enough cash of if I should use my credit card or if I should ask my wife to pay for it. I was looking at my billfold and said to her, “Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.” When I looked up she was sort of grinning and giving me a “this isn’t that hard of question” look. When we got in the car, Kay said I should have asked her to repeat the question.
At my wife’s place of employment someone brought in several bouquets of lilacs to sit around the office area. They looked beautiful (she brought one home) and smelled wonderful. But they were aggravating someone’s allergies so they had to put all the lilacs in the men’s room (don’t ask me why the men’s room). A couple days later as we headed to work I commented to my wife on how great her perfume smelled.
“It’s lilacs!” she replied.
I asked with great concern in my voice, “They’re not going to make you sit in the men’s room all day are they?”
Dan Vander Ark
Copyright 2011
All Rights Reserved
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