One Thing Leads to Another

I was going through a box of Mom's stuff  today when I came across a recipe for Lemon Meringue Pie. I had forgotten how much she loved to make that pie and what a great pie she made. Which then reminded me of a family vacation to Cedar Point where mom actually came with us. As we were walking along she asked me if I would like a Pizza Pie for dinner and I said "Sure! Make mine lemon."  Pizza pie - piece a pie. Hey, I was probably only 3 years old at that time.

I made the pie tonight with Emily Grace and it was great; just like mom used to make. I couldn't find a recipe in the box for a crust so I just used a Pillsbury ready made crust, it was fine. If anyone's interested I'll post the recipe.

Caption Contest

Now that people are looking at and reading about (but not adding anything) all of the funny things that happen to our family (yes, I'm talking to you siblings) I've decided to add a caption contest to spur creativity. Here's the first picture:

Your Captions Here:

1. Do they sell these at Lowe's?
2. They're how much?????!!!!
3. Do they help improve your memory?
4. Do they come in a box?
5. Can I keep the box and get rid of the pump?
6. Are the instructions in English?
7. Simple English?

I don't know what the prize will be but I know what it won't be.

The Family that Laughs Together

Even when the work is hard or unpleasant you can always count on Jimmy to find some humor in the details.

Quotes and more quotes

Dad was always known for his love of language as well as the sound of his own voice. And I'm trying to collect some of his more colorful quotes. Here are two to start: This first one I'm sure he was talking to Lil' John and Dad said "Never trust doctors. Who else would take your money and then unplug you." and He told me on numerous occasions that "If you can't cure it with surgery, you're not really sick." Anyone have anything to add??

Not One to Complain

Dad in his final years was in a lot of pain with all of his medical issues but he never said a word about it; just watching him move about was evidence enough. I remember a trip we took to the local CVS and when we got inside dad  got a cart, not to shop but to use as a walker. He got about fifteen feet into the store, in the candy aisle when he had to stop. At the time I thought he was just buying some candy but as he stood there and stood there I started to think that maybe he was overwhelmed by all of the choices now available in Hershey Kisses and then as he continued to stand there that he had gone as far as he could go and was simply resting. We did eventually make to the pharmacy counter in the back of the store but it took about fifteen minutes with several more stops. The one issue dad did discuss was the problem of constipation caused by all of his medications. Most of these conversations took place over the phone on my weekly calls to Geneva. I suggested eating more chocolate covered raisins not for their great taste but their medicinal qualities. Dad thought that was a great idea, only he was no longer driving and couldn't go out and get any. Mom wasn't going anywhere by herself by this time so I asked several of the people who lived nearby to please go get some chocolate covered raisins for dad. My pleas fell on deaf ears. No matter who I asked they were unable to get the raisins. After a couple of weeks of listening to dad talk about this issue and not being able to get anyone to help I went out bought a bag of chocolate covered raisins and took them to Fedex and shipped them over night to Geneva for $40. He got them the next day and the day after I got the phone call every kid dreads... Dad was on the phone telling me that he had had the "most spectacular BM" that morning. It's the little things in life that make us happiest or even a big one every now and then.  

If It's on TV It Must be Right.

On our first adventure to Russia and when you travel with Dad it is an adventure, Dad got caught in a little jam. He knew he was speaking at a symposium at one of the big research institutes that surround Moscow. It was also a place that he had visited many times before and he was very familiar with all of the major players. What Dad apparently didn't know is that the institute's director was retiring and Dad would be speaking at the retirement celebration. No big deal for Dad. He could just add a few more bits of praise here and there and everyone would be happy. Dad discovered his dilemma when the first speaker got up and went on and on praising the retiring director and then presented him with a gift; as did the second speaker and then the third... Did this get the best of Dad? Only for a second. He open his briefcase rummaged around and pulled out an expensive looking pen in a nice case, handed me the briefcase and headed for the stage. Now, Dad was the only presenter who spoke in English so I was able to understand what he was saying but not quite believe what I was hearing. Dad said all of the expected things about the director and the wonderful job he had done and what a great service to humanity and so on and so forth. When it came time to present his gift, Dad really went to town. The pen it turns out was from Harvard University and Dad was sent to present it to the director on behalf of Harvard which wanted to also recognize the director's great contributions to science and medicine. The pen was the one gift that the director kept close at hand at all times and left the presentation with still in his hand; the other gifts were left piled on the stage.

When Dad and I were finally away from the crowds I asked him where the pen came from. It did actually come from Harvard. Dad had received it as part of a pitch to Alumni to help raise funds for the University. The rest of the story? Pure Dad.

When we got back to the hotel that night the evening news was playing, including coverage of the symposium. The only clip they showed? That would be Dad presenting the special pen to the special director. Don't believe anything you see on TV. I should know.

Chris

A Well Read Man...

I had the opportunity to travel with Dad twice to Russia, formerly known as the Soviet Union, as Dad preferred to refer to it; he also insisted in calling St. Petersburg, Leningrad, it was his little inside joke with the Russians. On both trips it was Dad, myself, a driver and the translator so there was always plenty of time for Dad to quiz the poor translator. On this particular day the subject was great Russian authors. They waxed poetic about Gogol, Goncharov, Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky... the list went on and on. Finally they seemed to remember that I was in the car and Dad asked my who I thought was the greatest Russian author. Huh? Thankfully, every now and then Dad's gene for BS seems to kick in with me and I quickly answered "What about Mr. Chekhov?" Dad and the translator were both stunned that they had both missed listing Mr. Chekhov among the best. They were both very impressed that after their long list I was able to add a name they had forgotten. I never did confess to Dad that while he was talking about great Russian authors I was talking about the character from Star Trek.

Chris

 In keeping with the theme of BS and full disclosure, I had to Google the names of all of those Russian authors.