Happy Birthday, Rickey!

Frontier Airlines was having a screaming deal on plane tickets from Phoenix to San Francisco as 2015 approached. A friend of mine alerted me to the $20.15 tickets and I immediately checked the dates they were available. Then I checked the Edmonton Oilers schedule and the stars aligned for my die-hard-Oiler-fan husband. The cheap ticket and the Oilers playing the Sharks in San Jose all landed the day before his 48th birthday! (Yes, the return ticket was a bit more, but STILL!)

Rick was swimming in a sea of turquoise in the Shark tank for sure!  But, seeing it was Rickey’s birthday and he flew in to watch his team, the Oilers pulled out a win in a shootout…. just for Rick.  It was picture perfect. (In case you are not familiar with the Edmonton Oilers, they are a come back team. Rick has told me this for years. We are still waiting for them to come back. How many first round draft picks will they get before they come back? We don’t know. Jesus may come back first.)

Lasagna and black forest cake were awaiting Rick’s return on his actual birthday. He told me this was the best birthday gift I have ever given him…….  (to send him away from me for his birthday)…. hmmmmm. I think there is oil in his blood.

Happy 48th birthday, Rick!  I love you!

Manicotti Morning

You know the days.  You wake up dreaming of some such delicious entree.  I bought all the ingredients for Spinach Manicotti yesterday.  I must be low on iron or strength or something else that spinach is stocked full of.  Yesterday was Spinach Stromboli day.  Oooh that was a good one.  Not Rick’s fave, but I loved it.  I knew he would be excited about the manicotti because it’s basically lasagna in rolls.  Well, I’m not quite sure what exactly happened to make the manicotti shells malfunction, but they did.  Only one in ten came out of the boiling water intact as a tubular noodle.  What in the world?  So…. the manicotti turned into spinach lasagna with flattened out manicotti noodles.  Brother.  15 minutes 52 second until it’s out of the oven.

What’s Not to Love at the Dentist?

You know how you can tell this is not me at the dentist?  My hands aren’t in the picture and the nostrils aren’t flared nearly enough.  Yes, you guessed it, I went to my friendly dental establishment today…. just for a cleaning.  Well, as my sister and I both whole heartily know, levitation is possible just from a simple cleaning.  I think there is red warning tape tied around my file that says “Hyper Sensitive Wimp”on it to protect the hygienist from bodily harm.  Yes,  I have a few highly sensitive teeth.  No, there is absolutely no reason to spray cold water on them to check if they are still sensitive.  No, there is absolutely no reason to shoot cold air on them to check if they are still sensitive.  THEY ARE!  I’m just saying.

Over my sensitive years, I’ve learned to brush my teeth with warm water.  If I drink cold water my tongue naturally shields my upper left molars without me reminding it. And ice cream can bring me to tears.  It’s not just the frigid temperatures…. it’s hot too.  Hot soup, hot pizza, hot lasagna.  All must be blown on with tender care before inserting near the upper left quadrant.

So today, my tooth doctor, whose name is for really Montana Skylar, (sounds like he should be on a dusty horse roping cattle in tight Levis) comes up with a suggestion that I’ve never heard before for my tender teeth.  It’s called tooth varnish.  So I say, “YES! ANYTHING!  BRING IT ON!”  And for only $457 I can be sensitive free!  (just kidding, I was checking if my hubby still reads my blog.)  Anywhooo, I am currently sitting here typing with a mouth full of wax coating my teeth.  It feels like I just ate a bee hive.  It’s pasty white and filmy and Larisa says it makes me lisp.  WHO CARES!?!?  I might be able to bite into a Mint Filled Dilly Bar without spilling tears.  I’m not to have anything hot until tomorrow and I’m not supposed to brush my teeth until tomorrow morning.  That’s a first.  The dentist telling you to skip brushing.  I’ll report in when I’m wax free as to my level of sensitivity.  Pray that this wasn’t a scam.

December First and All’s Well

Well, not really, but the title sounded good.  For some unknown reason, I blogged faithfully in November but lost part of my brain in the process.  I’m in recovery mode for the next two days here before we leave for California.  Did I mention that in those two days we have a trip to the library, packing, piano lessons, Royal Ranger awards night/party, two hockey practices…. and I’m speaking tomorrow to highly organized pre-school teachers???

Three library books are missing in action.  On my last trip to the library, I was notified that I returned a DVD case minus the DVD.  Wonder where Tut, The Boy King is hiding? 

Unorganization is not usually a strong point for me, so this is all a bit frustrating.  (I don’t think I’m clinically OCD???)  Last night I was digging in the fridge to make dinner and I pulled out various ingredients for planned meals…. but hit a few glitches.  Everything for Chinese Chicken Salad was accounted for except the chicken. The cabbage, green onions, cilantro, ramen noodles and sauce mix were all out when I discovered the missing chicken.  Oh, this takes me back to cornflake fried chicken and memory loss!  I indeed pulled out some frozen thighs and started the long process of defrosting and frying. 

In the meantime I decided to make lasagna.  Rick’s favorite… I’ll score some points!  Ground beef… check.  Mozzarella, ricotta and Parmesan cheeses… check.  Tomato sauce, eggs and parsley.. check.  Lastly, lasagna noodles……   OH GREAT!  The noodle shelf was full of elbows and wagon wheels, but no big flat guys.  Yes, all the Italian ingredients were on the counter next to the Chinese Chicken salad greens.

At this point I threw the garlic loaf in the oven.  I made a pseudo Caesar salad with spinach and croutons.  Lastly, out of desperation, I made garlic-flavored instant mashed potatoes because I love them.  More than Stove Top.  Yes, it was a lame dinner, but hey, it was hot and it only had to serve my husband, myself and our daughter.  It all tasted good, but it felt like we came to dinner in our underwear and jewelry and forgot our pants.

So as we’re gathered around the family dinner table in familial partaking and generational bonding over the lame dinner, guess who rings the doorbell?  Yep, my mom and dad.  The same mother who would never dream of serving such a carb-infested, protein-lacking meal of non-sustenance.  I did point out the chicken in the frying pan and all the lasagna ingredients on the counter…..

If all of December is going to be like this, I quit now.