When we got together with my family for Mother's Day, the topic of bros icing bros came up. We all had a good laugh over the concept. Then when we went to Ohio, the topic came up again a few more times. Even so, when we walked into my parents' house this past weekend and my sweet, little mom immediately held a room-temperature raspberry-flavored Smirnoff Ice in front of Pat, it was shocking. Pat didn't skip a beat, though. He nodded, popped open the top, went down on one knee, and pounded it before I could say, "Wait, let me take one more picture where you're not backlit!"
Unlike a lot of icings I've seen online, there was no ballyhooing. Pat is a really good sport. If you know Pat, then you know this is true. Pat is as cool as, well, Coolio. Nay, he's cooler.
Frankly, I think he enjoyed it.
Don't mind the fact that there is a 4 year old in this shot. (Don't worry, we told her it was "daddy's medicine," so it's okay.)
And since this blog has taken a rather unclassy turn, I'll go ahead and post a recent picture I took of moldy fruit. You heard me. We keep a container on the counter for stuff that we collect that needs to go to the compost bin. It's sort of like purgatory for produce. Anyway, I put some past-their-prime raspberries in there, and the next day I opened it up and found a bunch of bearded raspberries. I thought they were very pretty. Here is Sir Admiral of Berryton.
I have seen a few references to it, and maybe you've already seen it too, but there is an interesting article called Drowning Doesn't Look Like Drowning that I wanted to share here.
As the title implies, the article is about how to recognize drowning and how, when someone is drowning, it doesn't look like we're used to seeing it in the movies. People don't thrash around and call for help. This was particularly interesting to me because I had a scary brush with drowning when I was a kid. To preface, my grandparents had a pool and we used to go swimming there whenever we could. When I was maybe five years old, my grandma took me in the pool and was holding me. The pool had a shallow end and a deep end, and all around the deeper portion of the pool, there was a three-foot deep ledge that had a slippery, steep decline. We sort of walked around the ledge while she held me and kept saying things like, "Look, you're swimming!" What my five-year-old brain didn't realize was that I wasn't swimming.
I don't remember the exact details of whether when I came close to drowning was later that day or a different day or what, but I remember that I had my swimsuit on, and I feel like only my grandma and Uncle Howard were there. I recall my grandma went inside and my uncle was dozing in a lawn chair. I wanted to show off for my uncle that I had learned to swim, so I remember saying something like, "Uncle Howie, watch me swim!" And then I stepped down the ladder, into the pool, started moving my arms, and then before I knew it, my head was underwater and I felt as if I couldn't move. I don't know how long I was under there—I doubt it was long at all—but I remember my eyes were open and my head was pointed up toward the sky. I also remember feeling pretty pissed that I didn't actually know how to swim, and very scared. I then remember seeing a blurry figure look over the edge of the pool, and then my uncle grabbed me and pulled me out. It's one of those moments of my life that I will forget about for a while and then remember and play it over and over. My uncle will recount seeing my "big, blue eyes" looking at him from under the water and laugh, but it freaks me out! I always wondered why I didn't thrash around or try to call for help, but after reading this article, I understand that, physiologically, I did exactly what people do when they drown.
I thought this article was very interesting and an excellent reminder, particularly for the time of year and the kind of weather we've been having. If I were to add one more thing, regarding children, I would just stress that when you "swim" with them and they don't yet know now to swim, do not ever imply that they are actually swimming. Put some fear in those children! (Kidding, mostly.)
After recounting this, I think I know why I don't like swimming that much. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that swimming requires wearing a bathing suit in front of people...
In case you're so inclined, here's how we spent our holiday weekend.
Friday: After work/school, we went to our friend Steve's going-away party. There was amazing food and drink and great company. Greta is super smitten with Steve, which is super cute and very entertaining to watch.
Saturday: We went to our friend Maddie's birthday party. The kids were all so good and polite. I love polite kids. Right after that, we went to a Third of July party at one of my book club friend's houses. We lived the American dream of eating rare burgers and apple pie.
Here are the cute girls at Maddie's party.
Sunday: We packed up a big picnic basket of goodness and headed out to see some fireworks. When we went grocery shopping for snacks, Greta asked what caviar is and Pat told her "fish eggs," and then she said she wanted to try some. We never want to squelch new food trying, so we bought some. I didn't really look closely and ended up buying salmon caviar. I assumed it would be good because I like salmon sushi. When we tried it, though, we all hated it - even Pat, who likes just about anything. They looked like Finding Nemo eggs and they were huge and when you bit into them, they squished gross fish-egg juice into your mouth. Like Nemo eggs, they had a dark orange spot in them, and I felt like I was eating a baby. It was gross. I have had caviar that wasn't disgusting, but this was not one of those kinds. It probably ruined me for salmon and caviar for forever. Oh, and fireworks are awesome! I always forget how much I love them. I especially love the grand finale when the noise drowns out the idiots saying "oooh" and "aaah," and I can't help but watch them with a big, dumb grin on my face. Love 'em.
Here are Pat, Greta, and the baby Nemos.
Monday: I worked all day and Pat and Greta hung out, trying to stay cool. After work, Pat talked me into going to Seabreeze. I was so anti, but I agreed to go along and sign up for a season's pass and I LOVED it. So I didn't love the crowd, but it was just too fun. Greta loves rides, and the look on her face the entire time was priceless. Greta even went on her first rollercoaster, and it wasn't even one of those tiny rattletrap rollercoasters they have for little-little kids (okay, it was sort of a tiny rattletrap...). After Greta went on it twice with Pat, I got the gumption to go it too. Pat took video. I'm apparently the tallest person on the ride and one of the few people who doesn't have her arms up in the air. Ha. I'm a wimp.