We’re still putting things back together after Hurricane Matthew.
This will be a streaming sort of post; I could shoot for polished, but I want a finished product. My drafts folder is cluttered enough.
The following story might paint a better picture of how this week is moving along:
I cook more in the fall. Perhaps it’s because I live in an area where we don’t actually have a true fall, and cooking up savory bites is one way I compensate.
There is no ‘October’s here — let’s pull out the sweaters’ in South Georgia.
Most of the time I’m okay with that, but I must admit that after visiting my mom in the Piedmont region of our lovely state, I was reminded how much I love the changing of the seasons — particularly the relief that comes from cooler temperatures after a long summer.
Mom lives near Pine Mountain, GA, home of Callaway Gardens. We had several brisk days on our ten-day visit (yes…yes…you read that correctly, TEN), and I realized that I have very few transitional clothes.
Upon our return to Savannah, though, I was encouraged because the weather has changed ever so slightly and our current highs are holding steady in the mid-to-low 80s — hardly fall-like, but it’s better than a hurricane for sure.
Still, I can’t exactly break out the winter-wear, so instead I decided to channel my inner Pioneer Woman and whip up some cookies and all-things-pumpkin.
Wallace found a recipe for peanut butter cookies and had been begging me to make them, so on Monday, once homework was done and everyone was playing happily in the yard, I got right on that.
I will not be linking the recipe, because they were completely horrible tasting, but it was likely my fault for not totally following the recipe. I’m typically a stickler about recipes and pride myself on perfect baked goods on the rare occasion that I actually bake, but midway through assembling everything I realized I needed maple syrup and didn’t have it. I subbed with honey, and the cookies were flat gross. I’m not super inspired to try this recipe again.
Anyway…while I was knee deep in cookie batter, I heard the boys storm through the front door. Piers headed for the restroom, and Wallace was right behind him. This is something I’ve never understood — they like to hang out with one another while doing their hardcore bathroom business. Is that a boy thing? Is that having close-in-age siblings? Do they just really like each other? Perhaps this is just my children, but I find it a bit odd. But because of this, I didn’t blink when I saw Wallace heading to the bathroom with Piers and carried on with the cookie baking.
Wallace went in and out a few times, and in hindsight I realize he was acting strange, but again, I was in happy-fall-bake mode and couldn’t be bothered.
I did finally notice that Piers had been in the restroom longer than usual, so I called from the kitchen to make sure everything was okay. He has a sensitive stomach, so checking in (though he hates it) is a regular thing.
He assured me all was fine, but when Wallace passed through the kitchen the third time, I wasn’t convinced.
“Wallace, is Piers okay? Does his stomach hurt? Do I need to check on him?”
“…um…he’s fine…” Wallace avoided eye contact, so I knew I should check things out.
I knocked on the bathroom door and found it unlocked, so I stuck my head in.
Good thing I did. Piers was standing at the sink, and honestly it looked like a small massacre had recently taken place.
I’ll spare you further grizzly details and skip to the happy ending.
Piers is fine, but he’s sporting a large bandage on his left arm, and the gaping slash had to be fused back together with some funky adhesive wound closures. It wasn’t deep enough for stitches and evidently these reduce scaring and promote quicker healing.
But I loved his response to my question. Picture me — rolling my eyes.
“What exactly were you doing when you cut your arm?” (and obviously this entire episode was followed by a LONG discussion about NOT getting tools out of the garage along with another discussion between Gil and me about better security for dangerous tools such as utility knives…followed by a lecture to both kids about the importance of letting us know the minute one or the other IS BLEEDING.)
“I was building a table with the cut up tree from the hurricane. It had this huge bump on the side and I was trying to smooth is out, but it wasn’t working and I decided cutting it off was a better solution…but it turned out to be a really terrible solution because I cut my arm.”
I think I might be out of words for the moment.
Obviously I’m not a Wordless Wednesday kind of gal. Perhaps I should rename my post WORDY Wednesday.
I look forward to catching up on my blog reading. How are you? Tell me what’s new in your world.