Typical Sundays
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Another early wake-up call. 6:10 on the alarm. 7:30 worship rehearsal, which was not uncommon when weather or other articles of interest prevented Wednesday rehearsals.
Church was still a little snowed in. The Civic stuck itself in the front circle drive and was quickly shoveled out by OLeif. Puck eagerly joined the party and scooped out enough shovelfuls to do his own share of the work.
The Egypt Team was represented that morning for the worship service and during the Sunday School hour.
And somehow Puck had managed to scalp a little orange alien from the Sunday School toy box.
Back at the house…
Carrie-Bri caught Puck eating a bunch of green grapes.
“I hear a squishing inside there,” said Carrie. “Is there still a little fish in your belly?”
“Nope it’s gone.”
“Where did it go?”
“It swimmed out of my belly, right into the ocean.”
While Collette and Francis were gone to pick up OLeif from the second service…
Dad had lifted up Puck to put him on his lap to watch The Waltons.
“You have pretty strong muscles, Grandpa,” said Puck. “But some of them are broken. Some of them aren’t there anymore.”
“Where did they go?”
“They’re on vacation.”
“Will they be back?”
“No. They have lots of toys there.”
In the kitchen…
The girls were making rolls from scratch.
“Collette would rather make it than me,” said Rose at first, wrinkling her nose. “Her middle name is ‘Bread’.”
Her tactics were unsuccessful.
So Carrie put on 1930’s music to put Rose in a good mood.
And the hand mixer from 1956 was having troubles.
“It looks like a Doctor Who monster,” Carrie yelled over the obnoxious sound of the mixer.
The dough, indeed, bore some resemblance.
“3/4 cup flour. Quick!” she continued. “I’m not sure how long the motor will last.”
Meanwhile…
The boys were at the dining room table: OLeif at the laptop, Joe with the Indian ink…
And the dough had not been successful. It had refused to rise, given the state of the ancient hand mixer. Carrie practiced some pizza dough tossing instead, just for the heck of it. Then she tossed it to Trooper, who seemed completely confused, and was not even sure whether or not he ought to attempt eating it.
“Toss it on his head,” Rose suggested. “Give him a bread hat.”
But instead, she sent Trooper on his daily exercise ritual.
“He has to go up and down the stairs twice a day,” she said. “Go, Trooper. Go.”
Trooper, for once, was obedient.
Joe did chin-ups from the bar above the basement steps.
And OLeif and Puck built a snow slide in the front yard from the shovelfuls they had scraped off the sidewalk.
In continued celebration of Dad’s birthday, a cake was in order.
But not before a three o’clock lunch of brisket, croissants, and spicy cashew salad.
“Is that a usual centerpiece?” OLeif asked, pointing to the glass bell dome on the table that currently housed the stalk of a lettuce head.
Rose’s doing.
Then came the cake…
“My work is always ruined by my sous chefs,” said Carrie, looking mournfully at the crème brulee cheesecake that had been accidentally frozen in the garage. “And Dad ate all the toffee pieces that were supposed to go on top too.”
Nevertheless, half of the cake was eaten after Dad had blown out the single purple candle on the top.
And Mom, Francis, and Linnea departed for a meeting and the youth group Superbowl party, respectively, at Henri’s house.
While OLeif visited Theodore at his office to set up some cable business.
Meanwhile, back at the house…
Puck was concerned that his grandpa had eaten ‘all the candy’.
“See what’s the problem, Grandpa?” Puck asked in his usual tone. “You ate all deh candy? You will get a stoma-ache.”
“Grandpa can do whatever he wants,” Carrie explained to him.
“I’m the potentate,” said Grandpa.
“Do you know what a potentate is?” Carrie asked Puck.
“Yes. The po-poten-potentate eats all deh candy. They don’t have deh power. God said poten-potentates should not steal all deh candy. You have to obey God, Grandpa.”
Dad got a chuckle out of that one.
And home to an early night for OLeif to catch up on his weekly lack of sleep due to endless projects.