Sunday, May 15, 2011

s.o.s. (#$@& on a shingle)


A surprisingly family friendly recipe. You may know by it's not so colorful pseudonym: chipped beef with peas on toast.

The firehouse always looked forward to my grandpa's turn as chef. This was one of his favorite things to make. It seems so simple. Dump everything in a pot and warm it up. Spoon it over buttered toast.

He was always very careful about it.

Ingredients:

Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Undiluted. (yes you can substitute the inferior brands but the color of the Campbell's is usually superior. The off brands can be kind of brown.)
Green Giant Sweet Peas and Pearl Onions (Used to be able to find this easily in the canned veggies section. Now I only find it boxed in the frozen section. You can just use sweet peas and leave the onions out. Cocktail onions from the pickle section are NOT the same thing.)
Carl Budding Beef In the hot dog section.

Dump all in a pot. Slice beef in strips or dice. Add milk slowly to desired consistency. Heat through. Spoon over buttered toast.

Friday, May 13, 2011

letters from george


Yesterday George brought the mail in before leaving for school. He sorted through the stack eagerly in search of something for himself. When he got to the bottom he got a confused upset look on his face.

"Why didn't she take this?" he asked me. I looked at the envelope he was holding. It was a white business sized envelope with carefully crafted preschool script across the front in red marker: p-o-p-p-y

That was it. No stamp. No return address label. No other information about the recipient.

While I was thinking of how to respond George had an Aha! moment.

"I know why! I forgot to put the red flag up!"

Thursday, May 12, 2011

serve elyria




There is still time to sign up at www.serveelyria.com

Monday, May 9, 2011

Firemen are my heros.

My favorite grandparent was a member of the FDNY so I've always had a huge amount of respect and admiration for firemen everywhere. Now, thanks to North Ridgeville's Finest, George does not have to go through life with an ice scraper as an appendage.


I was driving from David's Bridal to Elyria to pick up my good friend Mich for lunch at Chipotle. It was sunny, I was on time, AND we had a FREE coupon! Life was good. Then I hear panic from the back seat.

I have become very good at deciphering the various noises George makes. The various whines, groans, cries, gasps, sighs, and screams that mean different things based on their intensity and frequency level. Usually they mean nothing serious. This time I knew it was something.

I pulled over w-a-y onto the berm of the highway and turned around. His middle finger was stuck through the eye of the ice scraper handle and the digit had already swelled much beyond normal. He may have pushed that finger in but there was no way it was coming out.

I got him calmed down and proceeded to the nearest fire station. It helped that the first thing we saw when we got there was the familiar face of the head of the high school drama boosters. She reassured us that this happens all the time (not to anyone I know!) and got a paramedic to help poor George.


They sawed the ice scraper off then gave the boy a complimentary tour of the fire station. Thanks, guys!