7 Quick Takes Friday: Not much of a St. Patrick's Day, Bigfoot calling, pie for Pi Day, and feeling old
Happy St. Patrick’s Day! We celebrated this wonderful feast day by…um…well…I wore green! And so did John, though that might have been accidental. Sadly, our boys just wore their plain uniforms.
I definitely could have done more to celebrate St. Patrick at home. I’ll have to blare some Irish music around the house and make some Irish soda bread this weekend.
Daniel has taken up a new hobby: Bigfoot calling. He whoops and hollers around our yard, but he also yells through parking lots and parking garages and wherever he wants to hear his voice calling for Bigfoot.
Now and then he also does a little wood knocking. He’s learned all this from watching Finding Bigfoot
, a show that would be more aptly named Not Finding Bigfoot
If Bigfoot ever actually responds, I’m not sure what Daniel—or any of the rest of us—will do.
After eating lunch out one day this week, we were walking out of the restaurant when the maître d’ stopped us.
“Your children get Frisbees, but they have to catch them,” she said.
And they did. It was a fun ending to our meal.
We were snowed in on Tuesday, so we made a pie for Pi Day. I could have made many kinds of pies, but since I was working from home on my snow day, I didn’t have time to roll out a crust or slice apples. So we made a chocolate pudding pie in a pre-made Oreo pie crust. A little whipped cream on the top, and we were done.
Now I feel a little guilty that we did a better job with Pi Day than St. Patrick’s Day.
But at least the soup I served for breakfast on the Ides of March was happy.
A thoughtful friend sent me a puzzle for our boys to do just in time for the snowstorm. We had the best time working on it together.
I should probably always keep a puzzle on hand for cold winter days when you can’t play outside for long—and maybe for hot summer days, too.
Last week Daniel had proclaimed that he loved his bathrobe more than he loved me or his father.
This week he told me he loves Baba the most, then the bathrobe, then me.
At least I’m still on the list.
The other day the boys were talking about hippies.
“Were hippies in the 1870s or the 1970s?” one asked.
At moments like that I realize just how old I seem to them. My favorite, though, is when they say, “Did that happen back in the 1900s?” the way I might say, “Was that back in the Middle Ages?”
I am ancient. But at least I know how to make a chocolate pudding pie the way people did back in the 1900s.
3/17/2017 10:25:39 PM
By Rita Buettner