The twilight sky has an ominous purple overcast, lightning looks imminent although I have yet to see a single thunderbolt in Alaska. The car is making a funky sound, so we drive it to the Dealership that is curiously placed on the outskirt of my hometown. Beyond the workers there, the place is deserted. Must be about time to close up shop. After I drop off my keys, I see my sweetheart driving away in the rental car. Without me.
What the heck?! I know I have to be heading to work soon, I glance at my watch and realize that I better start hoofing it if I want to make it home in time.
The wind is whipping my hair around my face, blowing grit into my eyes. I'm muttering to myself about how completely miffed I am, I don't have my cell phone or purse with me - I had left them in the car. Walking quickly down the deserted road, I see off in the distance a man in plaid flannel shirt and a straw hat walking on the right hand side of the road. I squint, because it appears to be more than one man, in fact there are 3 guys all wearing the same outfit walking about on the same side of the road, single file, but about 2 blocks apart. Something is eerie about their gait, they are all marching in step in spite of the distance. Feeling dread, I glance behind me and see that there are many more of these... scarecrows. My fight-or-flight reflexes kick in and I start running forward. As I near the scarecrow closest to me, I can hear him grunting softly. Ugh! I pick up the pace, glance over as I about to pass it and see that he's not just a scarecrow but a ZOMBIE scarecrow! The stench wafting from his rotting body makes me increase my pace, but the bugger keeps pace. I should really work out more. Before I know it the Zombie Scarecrow and I are chatting it up, his name is Giles and he looks oddly similar to the Librarian from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
My eyes fly open and I realize that I'm already sitting up in bed. Whoa! What a doozy of a dream. This dream almost competes with the one I had about surfing with a purple gorilla as my surfboard. Zombie Scarecrows. Awesome!
I've been trying to be more domestic lately, I've always been decent about keeping a clean house but I don't strain myself in the kitchen. Most everything I make has been frozen and pre-cooked. Or canned. M mentions in the morning that he'd like to make meatloaf for dinner (this man can cook, I'm so lucky!). I think that's something I can figure out, so I go to my dusty red and white plaid cookbook, and start planning. I really don't want to go grocery shopping so I chose to use whatever I have on hand. Which includes ground beef that was frozen two years ago. Should still be decent, right?
I spend most of the morning piecing my star quilt together (quite possibly the dorkiest quilt made in the history of mankind, I'll post pictures of that gem later!). I don't know what has gotten into me this winter, in November I decided to sign up for a sewing class even though I hadn't sewn since I was a kid. I have a sewing machine that I received as a present six years ago and had only taken it out of the box and put it in the carrying case. On the first day of the class I tell my coworker that I'm going to chicken out, who cares that I had to pay for the class in advance. I had no idea how to even thread the bobbin! Amazingly enough, he know his way around a sewing machine. I lugged the machine in from the car and my coworker gave me the rundown on how to get things going.
Based on my success with sewing a semi-straight stitch, my sweetie's daughters decide that we should sew some flannel pajama pants. I spent all of my free time yesterday making Zoe a pair of pj pants so that I could help the girls make their own today after school, and feel like I knew what I was doing. (Her pj pants turned out great, other than being too baggy for her little frame).
After homework is finished, I get the girls started on doing a zig zag stitch around the edges of their fabric. This is not successful. They do not like picking out stitches when they are way off. We ditch the zig-zag, Eme has already lost interest and is reading Harry Potter in her room. I'm multi-tasking, helping Skye when she needs it and working on dinner.
I don't like how the recipe calls for barbeque sauce on top, my mom always had the most awesome meatloaf recipe but I can't get a hold of her. So I call my grandma for advice for the sauce, she recommends adding brown sugar to ketchup and then baking it.
Zoe has been very helpful in the whole process of making dinner in her satin princess dress. She's got her tiara on, and heels too. I'm fretting about the meatloaf, I don't think it's going to turn out right. Mark returns home victoriously with the brown sugar and I add the glaze halfway through baking. Finally dinner is ready, I hand Zoe her plate of food to take to the table and turn around to continue serving the rest of the plates when I hear a CRASH and Zoe wailing. She slipped while wearing her dress-up heels and has landed on her bum with her dinner coating her from head to heel. Poor baby! The family springs into action, us girls give Zoe loves and get her changed, while Chewy our dog snarfs down the meatloaf on the floor. Five minutes later we are ready to sit at the table when I hear a ralfing noise and to my horror see the dog vomiting meatloaf on the rug.
Great. Now I don't want anybody to eat the meatloaf, its gotta be horrible if even the dog can't keep it down! Everybody is brave and tries it anyway. Surprise, it was actually decent! I can't wait to try it again, except this time with fresh meat and my mom's recipe.
Zombie scarecrows, crafty sewing, meatloaf disasters... All a day in the life of MJ.
The Postpartum Day
11 months ago