First, prayer requests! Today is apparently Neurosurgeon Day in my extended family. My sister is having minor surgery today (Yeah, minor neurosurgery. It's a thing.) and my father-in-law has a consult with a neurosurgeon to figure out how to deal with some herniated discs in his neck. Prayers for both of them would be appreciated.
(Updated later in the day: My sister's surgery went well. No word on FIL's consult yet.)
The Only Sister's Confirmation last night went well (at least I thought so). Mrs. YEB was her sponsor, so both she and Younger Elder Brother were there. (Elder Elder Brother lives too far away to visit much, unfortunately.) Scott and I arrived about 25 minutes before the ceremony started and were still only able to get a seat because we squeezed in with his family. There were apparently 170 confirmandi. (I still want to know, incidentally, why an event for school-aged children was held at 7 p.m. on a school night.) Yet, somehow the whole thing only took an hour and a half. And afterwards there were cookies and lemonade and stuff. (And wine, actually. Eldest Younger Brother, who turned 21 a few months ago, took a cup, drank a few sips, and then gave the rest to his mother--which is pretty much how I acted with wine when I was 21.)
Then we went back to the Cobbler homestead for cake and ice cream and presents. TOS got all the essential St. Therese loot (a statue and a medal, anyway) and some other presents, and we all had plenty of sugar, and then the party broke up by 11 p.m., which is very rare in the Cobbler family. I am nonetheless very tired today.
(The boys are rearranging furniture so that Mr. Cobbler can sit and ice his neck while still watching the present-opening process.)
Me: "This is why you have so many children, so they can take care of you when you're old."
Mrs. YEB: "Aww, you just called him old!"
Me: "I think he knows he's old. I mean, he's got his arthritic foot and his neck... I think he knows."
Mr. Cobbler: "Yeah, I know."
(We are discussing/judging the fashion choices of the other Confirmation attendees. I comment on how I thought it was cool that one of the sponsors was wearing a military dress uniform.)
Mrs. Cobbler: "[Youngest Younger Brother], what rank was he?"
(It's funny because YYB answered without even having to think about it. And because he's not-quite-16 and yet everybody in the family defers to him as the expert in just about everything. I seriously fear for him when he goes to college; he's going to be so bored.)
I have lately been having some kind of misplaced spring cleaning urge. I say "misplaced" because I do not actually want to do any vacuuming or dusting or the like. I want to do things like make a slipcover for our old and battered couch (I have a giant piece of fabric in my stash, so it would even be FREE) and print wedding photos (which would not be free, but we've been married nearly a year and a half and everything is still digital...) and do all the other little projects that have accumulated on my mental to-do list since we moved here.
I might or might not update on if I succeed in executing any of these projects. "Blogging more often" should probably go on the to-do list as well, shouldn't it? :)
Scott fell asleep in the recliner after dinner twice this week, and as I write this (at 9:30 on Friday) he's been asleep in bed since 7:00. I hope it's just his allergies or something and not that he's getting sick.
Random food-related take: When I was little, deviled eggs were this super-special treat that we had about twice a year if we were lucky. Now that I am old and married, I make them almost every Friday.
They really aren't that hard to make (easier than tuna salad) and they're cheap and easy protein. Scott eats them happily as long as I sprinkle a little paprika on his.
I still can't get over the idea that they're a special treat rather than something appropriate for Friday abstinence, though.
Teresa has this stuffed animal named Mr. Monkey. The other day, inspired by Silly Songs With Larry, she declared that Mr. Monkey is in fact NOT a monkey--he has no tail, so he must be an ape!
No word yet on whether Mr. Monkey is getting a name change.
For more Quick Takes, visit Camp Patton, but also visit Conversion Diary and pray for Jen and her new baby.