A technicolor loony.

Tea truly is a gift from the deities. I have this huge insulated mug (no, bigger than that) and usually use it for cold stuff, but today I made a massive amount of tea in my coffee maker and filled the insulated mug with it. It's amazingly lovely to have warm tea all day. My throat certainly thinks so.

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Sam's telling Jeff what she had for lunch, and she said "Because I finished it all, Mama gave me a turtle candy and she doesn't share those with just anyone."

Hmm, I guess she *does* listen to me from time to time. *grin*

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I love the responses to my "Whaddya Wanna Know About Me" post. Feel free to keep asking stuff.

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I am *so* addicted to the Rent soundtrack, it's getting downright scary. Though, I *am* listening to other music as well. So...good for me.;)

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Both kayre and royal_spice asked about cooking. I've definitely fallen down on the job, 'cause I'm sure I used to talk about cooking all the time. (If I didn't, how'd we ever come up with food_porn?;)

I love food and cooking. I especially enjoy baking. Making bread from scratch is still a form of magic for me. Oh, and the first year Jeff and I were married we had something of an orphans T'giving, and I made my very first turkey. I was so excited I took pictures. *grin*

I know my mom and I cooked together when I was a kid, 'cause I remember buying Martha Washington cake mixes for my Easy Bake oven (they were cheaper and made more than the "official" mixes), but my Nan was the one I remember teaching me about cooking. This could have been because we spent most of the time in the kitchen. She had a great set up, with a little tv and everything. We'd watch cooking shows on PBS, especially Julia Child. That was where I made my first apple tart (copied the recipe from a Great Chefs episode. If I were into Seeeekrit Recipes, I'd count that as one, 'cause I was eleven when I wrote it down and I'm the only one who can read that handwriting. *Grin*) and my first pecan pie (two separate events).

For those of you who've never made a pecan pie from scratch, you mix all the ingredients (including the pecans) together and pour it into the pie crust. Then, through the magic of baking, the pecans rise to the surface. I was *so* amazed by this that I grabbed the pie from the oven (with mitts on. I was amazed, not dying for another trip to the ER) and carried it through the house, to find people to show it to. My mum and Nan were downstairs and were amazed as well. Not by the pie but by the fact that I hadn't been burned carrying it down the stairs. They said it was very nice and instructed me to carry it back *up* stairs. I wasn't burnt then either. *Grin*

My Nan taught me how to make pancakes and then turned the duty over to me. I spent a lot of weekends at my g'parents and was the head pancake maker (okay, I was the only pancake maker). My Auntie Pat made a point of asking me to make 'em for her. I don't know if they were just trying to make me feel good or if they really liked the pancakes that much, but it did a lot of good for my self-esteem.

I've gotten away from baking in the past few years...didn't have a place to do it, then had an oven but no real room. But, last year for Yule Jeff gave me a Kitchenaid mixer...it still makes me grin every time I see it, 'cause I'd abstractedly wanted one for ages, but never thought I'd actually own one. And baking is so good for me, that I'm trying to make time to bake at least one thing a week. Sammy loves to help, and I have a great time cooking with her, though I think I'll do some stuff by myself too.

I also like doing everyday things like making dinner. Cooking for Jeff is a pleasure, 'cause he's willing to be adventurous and is sweet about the things I've made that aren't unqualified hits. I think part of this may be he doesn't expect me to make dinner. (Also, it's nice to have someone who just likes what I make as opposed to Princess Picky Pants who keeps expecting me to feed her but turns her nose up at what I cook. It's not like I make her lizards on toast or anything...there are days she doesn't want macaroni and cheese which pretty much kept her alive when she was four. Jeeeeeze. Luckily, the kid knows how to make peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, so if she don't like what she's given, she can damn well feed herself. So...there.;)

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Oh, what a very cool idea! Someone has come up with an mp3 player cozy made of knit cassette tape. I'm not sure how sturdy it'd be, but the fact that it exists is just plain nifty.

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In the vein of nobody tells me nothin', Pete Townshend has a blog and he writes beautifully. He's remarkably down to earth.

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More later (more questions answered, perhaps more answers questioned. Who knows what the future hold? Well, the Shadow do, but he ain't tellin'). I hate going to bed when I'm starting a cold, 'cause I may wake up mostly dead. But, if I don't sleep now, I'll move through tomorrow like a zombie. And that would suck. 'Cause I don't *want* to eat brains. So, g'night.

kayre, oh yes, I was well acquainted with the emergency room as a child.

When I was seven, we'd moved into what my mum and I refer to as "The Hovel". 'Cause it was a converted garage in the middle of (gorgeous) woods. Heat was the wood stove we bought from sears, plumbing was interesting (there were days when we couldn't flush the toilet...I have a terrible time remembering not to flush, and I remember apologizing to my mom once for flushing. It was an odd moment. She wasn't mad at me, but I did help clean up, which is only logical), I didn't actually have a room, the hallway from my parents room to the bathroom was turned into a (nifty) bedroom for me and...oh! We had two stoves. That was because the range worked on one and the oven on the other.

Anyway, when we'd first moved in, the grass hadn't been cut in quite a while. We'd picked up loads of trash and now my future ex-paternal unit was mowing the lawn. My mom asked me to go tell him lunch was ready. Just as I rounded the corner to yell over the sound of the mower, he ran over a can and it whipped back, hitting me just inside the eyelid of my left eye (I know this, 'cause I can see the scar, if I look closely). My mom was worried that I had a concussion (it was a food-type can, not a soda can), and petitioned I be taken to the ER...whatsisname said I was fine...he *always* said I was fine. I could be bleeding out of my ears and he'd say I was fine. Mum took me, and I felt remarkably tired on the way, and I remember my mom shaking me, making sure I wouldn't fall asleep, just in case it was a major concussion. I don't think they did x-rays that time...but I honestly don't remember. I didn't die though. *Grin*

I think there was another time I had to go to the ER while we were living there, but I don't remember why. I know that was when the stomach flu was running rampant through Virginia, but I cannot remember if I went to the regular doctor or the ER for that one. I do remember the medicine was liquid and one of the most horrible things I'd had to take up to that point. My mom, bless her, was so sweet about it. She found this old Cookie Monster finger puppet (or...Grover. It was a blue muppet, that much I do know) and made me laugh while she convinced me that, yes, this stuff *was* disgusting but it was better than major stomach pains. Damn near every time I had to take it. (And yeah, it really was that bad. It's also why I do my best to explain to Sam that the medicine probably isn't going to taste good but will make her feel better, which is the important thing.)

Then, the December after I turned ten, we moved to the townhouse in Sterling (the hovel was in Old Sterling, which I'm pretty sure doesn't exist any longer). I think I was eleven when I broke my arm elbow. It was one of those times when you fall exactly wrong, in a way you've fallen a thousand times before. I was climbing over a hip-high fence (and my hips were a bit lower then *grin*) in the playground behind the row of houses and fell on my left arm. It hurt in a weird way. There was no snap, no agonizing pain, nothin'. But I knew something was terribly wrong.

So, I went home. It was Sunday and the Redskins were playing, so I sat down and waited till half time. My mother hates me telling this part of the story, 'cause she says it makes her sound horrible. So, I'm going to take this opportunity to explain, especially since I never had a problem with it. When I was little, I was always coming to my mom with little hurts, like ya do. If I was interrupting her, she'd say "Are you bleeding?" "No." "Then please wait till I'm finished" "Okay." (Once, I cut myself very badly while shaving my fourteen year old legs (I thought it was an old razor and pressed down far too hard). I yelled "MOM! BLOOD!" and she came running. Didn't go to the ER though. ;). Also, one didn't interrupt football in our house. You waited till a commercial or half-time (it's not like there aren't a thousand commercials anyway.) So, since I wasn't bleeding, I followed the house rules and have never thought badly of them. *I* didn't know my elbow was broken and I'd fallen on it. How should she know from me running in the door?

So, anyway. Half-time comes and I tell her what happened. She figures it's a sprain and takes me into the kitchen to fix me up with a tea-towel sling. She helped me raise my arm to roughly chest-height while she tied the sling...when it was bent and horizontal, I let out a scream that probably scared people down the street. Mum said "We're going to the hospital." Whatsisname says "It's just a sprain, she doesn't need to go to the hospital, you're overreacting, I'm not going"(oh darn). So, we go to the ER and wait for what seemed like a very long time, and then they take us back and take me into the x-ray room where this minion of Satan nurse asks me to put my arm on the table in a way I can't do *now*, let alone with a broken elbow. She gets grumpy with me, saying I *can* do it, I just don't want to. (Yeah, one of my hobbies as a child was fucking with medical staff :p) She tries to force the issue, and my arm, but the noise that issues forth from my throat deters her. So, we take x-rays with my arm in a different position and I'm sent out to sit some more. They say they think it's a hairline fracture of the elbow, they're going to wrap it in an ace bandage for now and I'm to see my regular doctor the next day to make sure.

Which we did and it was, indeed, fractured. They decided it would be easier for me to have a half-cast (the top was open) wrapped in an ace bandage. It was *not* easier for me at all and those thing SUCK big time. I broke two (maybe three) of them and my arm didn't set completely right. I can use it with no problems, but it does pain me from time to time and sometimes feels very tight till I crack it. (Fun with joints!) So, if the doc says "Half cast", you say "NO, full cast." 'Cause the point of a cast is immobilization and my elbow could always move a little.

Back to the post, now that we've heard the PSA from "Full Casts, not Half Measures".;)

I can only remember one more ER trip, when I stepped on a glass and cut the hell out of my left foot (why stuff always seems to happen to my left side I just don't know). We wrapped my very bleeding foot in a couple towels and were off to the ER again (this was a couple years after the arm). Whatsisname was at work, but he probably would have said it was just a scratch. I bled through the towels before we were seen, but I *did* get to sit in a wheelchair. That was the highlight. :)

Got many stitches, both inside my toes and out, and found out that when they say "The pain medication is going to wear off in two to three hours" they *really* mean it. But at least they didn't put me in a half-cast. ;)

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royal_spice asked about books and movies I've enjoyed/haven't enjoyed recently.

I'm far more likely to slog through a book I dislike than a movie. This is probably a bad habit, but one I'm comfortable with. *Grin*

*back after convincing the child that it really, truly was time for bed* I shall continue this tomorrow. In another post, 'cause I'm just like that. *Grin*

I plan to answer everything, just not all at once. :) Right now, I'm going to take my tea and go sit with darthgeek in the living room. Exciting! ;)