I woke this morning with my mind racing. There was so much to be done. Places to go, things to do and people to see.
First off, violin lessons at 10:30
Pick up the smaller kids and my sister Joanna.
Drive to Muskogee.
Hang out with some BFF's.
Go home and fix dinner.
I had just about finished doing the dishes, mentally and was ready to take my victory lap in the tub when Rob burst into my daydream.
"Do you think it would be possible to pack everyone up and go the Creation Museum in Kentucky today?'
While Robert checked the status of flights (we can fly standby because of his job with an airline) I started gathering the essentials: Cell phone, charger, Kindle, library book ...
We debated the merits of renting a van once arrived versus a taxi. We checked the weather. We plotted various courses to different airport hubs. We prayed for wisdom. We suddenly remembered that our church is observing The Lord's Supper this weekend and we probably wouldn;t be back in time. We pulled the emergency brake.
The adrenaline rush slowly subsided.
Suddenly my previous plans for the day seemed simple and relaxed.
We did make it to violin lessons. We met an amazing lady for lunch at Taco Bell. We had an awesome time drinking homemade lattes with the girlfriends while the kids swarmed all over.
I made it home around 6:30. Robert wound up working late so I wasn't too rushed about getting dinner by any particular time. Oh sure, my blood sugar was plummeting since the latte and cookie high had worn off. No worries, mates. Our awesome baked potato and chili supper would be ready in about an hour.
Well, first off I scrubbed the potaoes, pierced them with a fork, anointed with corn oil and liberally salted the outsides. Then I just tossed them into a 350 degree oven to bake for an hour while I nursed the ever voracious Ana-Bear.
My return to the kitchen was the first time I had actually attempted to locate any suitable meat for the chili in question.
We only had one pound of frozen hamburger. A little more digging revealed a lump of breakfast sausage and an icy bag of pinto beans. Jackpot!
I intended to make Dee's Award Winning Chili. It would be tweaked here and there. The sausage idea was a bit novel, but really, this should be snap to put together.
And it would have been a snap to put together if I only could have found my can opener.
To quote a famous line from Shakespeare: "A can opener, a can opener, my kingdom for a can opener!"
But alas and alack, such an implement was nary to be found.
Or should I say a lass and a lack of the means to open vitally important cylinders of red pulpy material that bind unappealing lumps of congealing meat and lard into the glorious concoction known as "chili" is a tragedy worthy of sonnets.
It's 8:30 by now. I have torn the house apart. I have conducted level three interrogations of the usual suspects. Nothing.
The baby is screaming. I am screaming. My sugar has bottomed out. I have to eat. NOW!!!!
Forget the dadgum can opener. I ripped open the packets of chili and fajita mix, added one and a half cups of water and a bunch of ketchup.
It worked! Not the award winning chili that I sometimes dream about. But it was chili nonetheless.
I'm still looking for the can opener. Ketchup has it's limits.