Growing Fears

During the first day of the Iowa State Fair, Char toured the Agricultural Building, and she was given a cup of dirt and a sunflower seed to plant. We took the cup home, and I've been watering both pretty regularly.

Here's where we started:

Look at us now:

I don't know; it's cool for Charlotte and I to watch this sunflower seed grow into a plant, but now I keep wondering if I swallowed a sunflower seed whole would it eventually burst through my stomach like the monster in Alien? Probably not, but I'm not going to take these seeds for granted anymore.

Click at your own risk:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXG-e9gFJvE

The Monsons are Big on Alternative Desserts

or "Why No One Else Wants to Eat at Our House"

Sometimes I read old charity cookbooks looking for a laugh. Usually, it doesn't take me long to find one.

I'm not the only one that thinks this drawing is funny. When I first showed this "design" to Daphne, she exclaimed, "Hairy pickles!?!" She began laughing so hard that she could no longer stand. Daph ran to our bedroom and flopped onto the bed with one hand to her mouth and the other pressed into her side.

Other times I'm looking for a recipe that sounds like it would be gross, but probably tastes great.  This Velveeta Cheese Fudge recipe nails these requirements. 

Why would I trust a recipe like this? Most of these cookbooks are published for small town churches. I grew up in a small town, and I know all about small town gossip and petty competition. I'm pretty confident that Nelma Neumayer wouldn't put her name on a recipe that she thought was iffy. And by ending the instructions with "never fails", Velma's throwing down the gauntlet.

Daphne made this last spring, and we couldn't taste the cheese. The fudge was actually quite creamy. Out of curiosity, I google "Velveeta Cheese Fudge", and I found pages of similar recipes. My favorite title was "Trailer Truffles".

Last week the Penzeys Spices catalog came in the mail, and this recipe was in there.

I wanted to give Tomato Juice Cake a spin, and Daphne was happy to make it. Here's our last night's dessert:

Daphne held a fork laden with cake in front of Charlotte's face and asked her, "Do you want a bite of Tomato Juice Cake?" Char screwed up her face and turned her head so quickly you'd think she might actually know what tomato juice is. I rephrased the question into "Do you want to try some T.J. cake?", and our little girl was all over it.

Like that Velveeta cheese in the fudge, you can't taste any tomatoes in here. My best comparison is to a spice cake. Daphne's not sold on the frosting, but I like anything with that much butter.

So, what's next?

http://www.kcci.com/news/central-iowa/Recipe-Sweet-corn-ice-cream/-/9357080/16283978/-/6ll19kz/-/index.html?absolute=true

PS. Speaking of odd food combinations:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/09/26/bagel-head-forehead-injections-japan-saline_n_1916188.html?utm_hp_ref=mostpopular

fyi: I'm In Here Somewhere

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JNcScR1gcWk&feature=youtu.be

It's a Costco Picnic

Samples rock, and it's even cooler when we count them as lunch.

That's not a Toostie Roll, Honey. That's a cigarette butt.

In order for children to really enjoy a parade, parents have to let them break all the basic rules. Running into a busy street, taking candy from a stranger, and eating things you found on the ground are all acceptable behaviors while attending a parade. It's also okay if an adult beans a small child with a hard object.

I wonder if Charlotte finds this confusing. We spent two hours siting on a Beaver Avenue curb last Saturday morning, but if she gets within four feet of the street this afternoon, I'm going to yell at her to get back, or run over and grab her arm. And if she picks anything off of the cement, I'm sure not going to let her put it in her mouth. I guess that's just Real Life vs. Parade Life.

Snarkiness aside, we had a blast. Char got a football, some stickers, and a large bag of candy.

She saw the Cookie Monster,

a woman wearing a disturbingly realistic horse mask,

and a hungover chicken trying to crow.

Wait. I'm trying to tone down my snide comments. Let me regroup and try again.

Okay, Char enjoyed seeing the Firefighters,

and since she's a big fan of Irish music, the bagpipers were a hit, too.

The local Beaverdale florist gave Char a flower, and later she swung it around while she sang the Iowa song. You can't really hear her sing it, so you'll just have to trust that's what she's doing.

Like the freaky tunnel scene in the original Willy Wonka movie, I believe children's entertainment should be tinted with a tiny element of danger. So it was lucky that a couple of clowns stopped by. Sweetie Pie is about to turn over the large playing card that hangs around her/his neck. It's her/his "diamond" necklace.

This clown didn't talk. He just smiled, leaned too far into our personal space, and frantically waved his four fingers up and down.

Ack. I'm doing it again. Maybe it's time to end this post.  Let me just honestly state how much we loved the Beaverdale Fall Festival. The weather was awesome, the people were great, and the parade was the first thing Charlotte talked about when she woke up on Sunday morning.

Link

Can't Buy Creativity

I like using Groupons, but I also enjoy the ad copy that accompanies the offers.

This is the best analogy I have read in awhile.

Robert Burns Said it Best

"The best-laid plans of mice and men 

Often go awry" 

I'm just disappointed I didn't buy a "Senor Wiener" t-shirt before this restaurant closed its doors.

http://www.senorwiener.com/gallery.html

I like their "Gallery" photos and their "Home" commercial.

There's No Balm in Gilead

Sir Isaac Newton may have died a bachelor, but his third law of motion, "For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction", could easily apply to raising a girl. The joy Charlotte expresses when we pull up to the library is equal to the despair she displays when we tell her it's time to leave. Both actions involve a high intensity of volume and the frantic waving of body parts, but with opposite intentions.

Parenting isn't always a party.

A few nights ago Charlotte wasn't happy, and she wanted to remain unhappy. Char would demand to see the Care Bears on the computer, and as soon as their heart shaped bellies appeared she'd yell, "I no want that!" She'd then tearfully ask for milk, and when the sippy cup arrived, she'd sob that she wanted water. Throwing blocks as well as tantrums, Charlotte was overtired, frustrated, and frustrating.

While Mom was trying to soothe her in our bedroom, I heard Char bawl, "I no want that! I want that!"

"What do you want, honey?"

"That! That! That!" 

I peeked my head in to see the two of them sitting in the middle of our bed. Rejected books were scattered about the floor. 

Daphne repeated, "What do you want, honey?"

"Thaaat!" Char's nose was pointed to the ceiling while her finger was pointed inside the children's book in mom's lap.

"This car? You want the blue car? Oh, I'm sorry, but we don't have a car like that."

I caught the book before it hit the ground, and I looked at the cartoon of a blue car. A light bulb lit above my head, "Give me a minute." I turned my back on Charlotte's sobs, and I jogged downstairs to our garage.

When I visited my mother's storage unit this past summer, for reasons unknown to me at the time, I saved this old toy car from going into the trash can. Its paint was chipped and crudely striped by a previous child owner, BUT the body's shape looked just like the book's drawing. It would be as if the cartoon had come to life.

Feeling pretty proud of myself, I rushed upstairs. But would Charlotte buy it? Could I be the hero?

In a word, no.

As I handed the car to Charlotte I said, "Look! Here's a blue car. It's just like the one in your book!" Charlotte immediately stopped crying, and Daphne looked a bit stunned. I could tell they both recognized the toy's shape as being very similar.

Char then looked up at me with her big wet eyes and said, "I DON"T WANT THIS BLUE CAR!" and she threw it to its death on the carpet below.

Can't blame a guy for trying. Nothing was going to make this little girl feel better but ten hours of solid sleep. A good night's sleep, or even a solid three-hour nap, can be a miracle cure. The screaming, little stranger you placed in the crib will be replaced by a decent human being that you actually want to spend time with.

Makes me think we could all be better people if we just got more rest.

PS. I was feeling sorry for pulling the little blue car out of retirement, only to have him treated so rudely, so I have since disguised this toy under a few layers of coral spray paint. Char's always saying that she wants a pink car.

I finished the paint job last Saturday night, and I was pretty pleased with results. I think the little car is happier, too. Although I can't prove it, I'm positive the car now rolls much straighter, and for longer distances.

Before I got out of bed the next morning, Charlotte had already found the car and chipped his paint by throwing him around and rolling him into walls. That's so cool. Toys in perfect condition are toys that were never loved. I hope this car again gets good and beat up.

"Mix in 8 Tablespoons of the Cool Bacon Fat."

That's the best sentence I've read in a recipe for quite some time.

I found this recipe in the latest issue of Cityview's RELISH Dining Guide: http://www.dmcityview.com/relish/, and I asked Daphne if she would make them.

Initially I thought the cookie tasted a bit off, but by the third bite I was hooked. Now when I eat other cookies I think, "This is good, but it could really use some bacon."

Summer Lovin' (part 4)

I'll admit to being frightened by many things. Extreme heights, hairy spiders, and tight spaces all give me the heebie-jeebies. Late night doorbells and phone calls make my heart race. The first night Daphne left me alone with our three-month-old baby, I was terrified.

I'll also admit that every time I've walked through the garage and passed my automotive equivalent of a paperweight, I've felt a twang of guilt. I could blame my daughter for taking away the free time needed to work on the Bug, but I'd only be lying to myself. I had four pre-Charlotte summers to roll up my sleeves and dig in. The truth is I was scared of failure.

Last spring I assigned my seniors to put their life goals down on paper. I also did the assignment as an example. I listed "Eat More Fruit", "Give Up Caffeine", and then I surprised myself by writing "Get Bug Running". When I presented my list, I surprised myself again by stating that my goal for the summer was to get my car in decent, running condition. And I would do the mechanical work myself. Since most of my seniors would soon graduate and disappear to parts unknown, I knew they wouldn't hold me accountable.

But as I was standing there, I realized I was making the promise to myself, not to them. And I wasn't going anywhere.

"There's only one way to make a beginning, and that is to begin: and begin with hard work, and patience, prepared for all the disappointments." - Jack London

Mr. London was talking about writing novels and being prepared for rejection, but I find his words are accurate for any big undertaking. If you want to see your project completed, you first have to start the project. And when you begin, understand the job isn't going to be easy, and not everything is going to go your way.

My first step was to hit the local libraries and Half Price Books. Here's my summer reading list:

If there were a theme to my summer it would be, "Turn a page, and then turn a wrench." I also spent a lot of time reading forum posts on the Samba  http://www.thesamba.com/vw/forum/viewforum.php?f=2 and watching YouTube videos.

My second step was to make myself relax. I had to stop worrying that I was going to break something, and then the world would end. Sure, the car has sentimental value, but that's about it. The school laptop that I use is worth more than a non-running VW.

In late May I purchased a new six-volt car battery, and I was able to get the car started. The motor didn't sound very good, but we were both off and running. I decided I would work in the garage only during Char's nap time, and after 8:15 (her bedtime). On days when Charlotte was at daycare, I could drive around town chasing down tools and parts.

The idea was to do just one thing for the car each day, and then just think how much better the Bug would be when vacation was over. Some days were spent entirely on research, and others were spent elbow-deep in grease, oil, and rust.

Here's where I spent most of my summer:

And here's where I spent much of July:

This is what's behind the left, rear wheel. See that horizontal tube that slopes up to the right? That's the Bowden tube, and it contains the clutch cable. Turns out I didn't have to remove my engine to get rid of that clutch chatter. I just needed a new tube, and I needed to make sure it had about an inch more sag (bend) in it. That's reason enough to check more than one source before starting a job. This is a "before" picture.

I felt really good about the smooth shifting clutch when I took the Bug for a test drive, but when I returned to our driveway I could smell something burning, and I could see smoke seeping from underneath the rear hub caps. Reread the Jack London quote - when working on a 50-year-old car, be prepared for disappointments. The clutch was now okay, but the brakes are not.

I'll place a short list of my VW accomplishments at the end of this post, but one entry cannot express the amount of time each task took. Sometimes a rusted bolt could take a whole nap to remove, and sometimes I couldn't work at all while I waited for a part or a tool to come in the mail.

Usually, one job would lead to three more. When I crawled under the car to to adjust the valves, I noticed the axel boots were cracked and leaking transmission oil. While replacing an axle boots I apparently bumped the cotton covered fuel line, and the line ruptured during the night leaving a large puddle of gasoline to greet me the next morning. After replacing the fuel line, I had air in the line, and the engine didn't want to start...

Other jobs require me to learn new skills. As an example, while trying to replace the front shocks, I snapped off the top bolt that held half of the shock in place. I tried using left-handed drill bits to coax the broken bolt out, but it was no use. I had to learn how to use a tap and die set: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veO270DcKXE .

Since it's a German car, all tools and parts have to be metric. It took over a week just to assemble this lineup. In order of appearance: broken bolt, new bolt, M10 tap with a 1.5 pitch, and an 8.5 mm drill bit.

Following the YouTube video, I practiced my tapping skills on an angled piece of steel first (see, this one's only slightly crooked). When I ran to the kitchen and excitedly explained to Daph what I had done, she shrugged her shoulders and said, "Okay, Brent. Let's go to the garage, and you can show me your hole."

 Two weeks after I started this job, I was finally able to install my new shock absorber last Monday night.

Successfully completing a project is just so satisfying. After I was able to tighten the shock bolt into the new threads that I had cut, I jumped up, raised my fists above my head, and quietly mimicked a cheering crowd. Then I started bouncing around in a circle. I call this my "I-can't-believe-that-worked-I'm-not-a-loser-I'm-so-awesome" dance. This past summer was way too hot to work with the garage door down, so I'm pretty sure I have performed this dance for passing strangers.

That feeling of elation is quite addictive, actually. And I think that's what keeps me walking down to the garage each night after kissing my daughter goodnight.

By the way, I'm proud to say that the Bug's paint is still covered in six year's worth of dust. 

Maintenance

charged battery
replaced battery
filled air in tires
changed engine oil
reset engine timing (static)
topped off transmission oil
removed, cleaned, and reinstalled ground strap

Installation/ adjustment
new valve gaskets
adjusted valve clearance to .006"
new shocks absorbers
new horn
new axle boots

new oil sensor switch
new clutch cable tube (Bowden)
adjusted Bowden tube's sag with 4 washers
adjusted clutch cable
replaced a turn signal bulb
new/ old rear view mirror
replaced fuel line beneath wheel well

Front, top, shock bolt (right side) broke off and needed to be drilled out and the new hole tapped for threads


Next jobs (September)

rear brake job: left brake brake heats up and cannot be adjusted
  remove rear drums and check for:
      broken springs and/ or stuck wheel cylinders, and stuck/ rusted emergency brake cables
  replace emergency brake cables
Front, top, shock bolt (left side) broke off and needs to be drilled out and the hole tapped for new threads

PS. I haven't had any caffeine since June, but I'm still not eating enough fruit.