We had many a good summer vacation camping when the kids were little. For about 6 years staight we went to the same campground and spent a week or more in a tent. I loved every minute of it. (Of course, memory being selective as it is, I can choose to forget the sleeping on the cold hard ground part of it all). The cooking over a campfire, schlepping to the bathroom which actually proved to be host to some of my favorite camping moments ever when little 4 year old Bethany would wake up in the middle of the night and needed a bathroom visit we would unzip that tent and most always be greeted with a nightime August sky that would knock your socks off. It would always be chilly and sometimes the moon would be so bright that we did not even need our flashlights. We would see fireflies and even meteors streaming across the star filled sky. It takes my breath away even after all of these years. How many s'mores my family ate during those years, I'd shudder to think. We even got creative one year and invented the SUPER S'MORE with a reese peanut butter cup instead of the plain chocolate on that graham/marshmallow combo. I can taste them now. And our friend's son, younger than the rest of the kids, wanted so much to like s'mores but didn't so he ate just a chocolate bar, but we all called it a s'more for him. He didn't miss out that way!
Seeing my family sitting by a campfire is a sight that is burned into my psyche. It is a sense filled memory with the flames licking orange up to the dark sky surrounding us, the smoke rising off of the fragrant logs, there is nothing like the smell of burning wood, even to this day, the popping sounds, the fire springing to life and yes, even the taste of the smoke when the wind would blow your way. The heat felt so good on the chilly August nights after a busy day of swimming in the cool lake. Even after all these years, I can shut my eyes and see, smell, taste, hear and feel it all. It is a memory of joy for me. Every detail, every color and hue of that memory is happiness.
Today? When I have to boil water to wash my dishes? You'd think that a small iota of that happiness would come into my heart. Nope. None. Not a teensy bit. All I feel is grumpiness at it all. I know I carry on about the lack of hot water but it has been so hard on me this time. Which is, of course a barometer to my overall sense of togetherness. I have reached "that time" of my life when all of a sudden things seem a bit more momentous than they actually should. I intellectually know this but it helps not a little bit. I want hot water, dammit. I do not want to camp in my kitchen or my bathroom for that matter. I temper tantrum a bit. And then boil the water, of course. What else is there to do? I tell myself how lucky I am to have what I have. I am. So lucky. But you know, that little pathetic me is hiding not too far under the surface.
Tomorrow morning at 8:30 am the plumber is arriving at my house. He best not be late because I am planning on showering a good long time, washing a good number or dishes and even washing my hands in hot water oodles of times just because I can now feed my inner germophobe.
And you? Poor you will not have my tirades about being hotwaterless anymore.
Poor you. How will you stand it?
~~
Last night I had decided that I would not cook dinner. I had had it with the world. I had nothing thawed out, I would not visit the store and if I had to eat one more slice of pizza I may have croaked. It was then that I decided that my family could just lump it. They could starve for all I cared (remember about the unreasonable emotions?) I had just spent 1 hour trying to find an important piece of paper that Bethany needed to bring to her state exams for her EMT license. She had, of course, told me NOT TO LOSE IT because honestly? That is what I do. I throw things out ruthlessly. So, she (and I share this responsibility 50/50 with her) put it on the PILE. You have one of those, don't you?
And of course, as fate would have it, I started cleaning up that pile for some mysterious reason on Sunday. I was sick as a dog but had to clean that pile all of a sudden. Some force was pulling me from the universe. Aliens, no doubt.
So, Monday and I have no hot water and I'm ticked about it, Bethany innocently asks me where that paper is. I turned cold all over because I realized that I had CLEANED. I started furiously looking through recycling bags and trash and other piles that had survived through the wrath. Nothing. Then it started. The waterworks. Looking like a gushing hot water heater myself, I had myself a good, old fashioned, right from the toes, can't even breathe cry. Sobbed like I had lost my best friend. I was right pathetic, I tell you now. All the while, mind you going through the recycling bag over and over muttering between sobs, "It must be here". After all, every piece of junk mail that has entered this house, every envelope and even the envelope of the offending party was in there. If my family had then called the loony bin, I would not hold it against them.
It was about the middle of the frantic sobbing and searching that I decided that the family could go to hell and starve for all I cared. I would not cook for them if anyone paid me.
After the searching and the maniacal sobbing had subsided, I calmly took a pound of hamburg out of the freezer and decided upon a recipe from the Bisquick cookbook, even though I had none of the ingredients. Ingredients can just go to hell, right? So, I made my own version of sloppy joes by putting this and that in the pan. Don't you know? That dinner was delicious! SO, here, is my take of the sloppy joe bake:

This picture does not convey the deliciousness of this casserole.
The recipe as printed in the Bisquick Cookbook:
1 pound ground beef
1 can sloppy joe sauce
2 cups bisquick
1/2 cup milk
2 tablespoons butter, softened
1 egg
slices of american cheese for topping.
Okay.
Here's my version: (in my no detailed way of cooking)
1 green pepper
1 onion
2 cloves garlic
saute in a bit of olive oil
add hamburger, season with salt, pepper, dried thyme, dried marjoram, onion powder, generous shakes of Worcestershire sauce. Cook until done, draining any liquid off.
Now. Search through the cabinets and fridge.
Add 1 can of stewed tomatoes, breaking up tomatoes with fingers
1 can tomato paste
generous squirt of ketchup, probably about 1/2 cup
the rest of the bottle of leftover taco sauce, hot please.
Now. Mix up the bisquick, milk, butter and egg. Spray a casserole with non stick spray, spread the bisquick mix around the bottom and sides of pan. Put in the sloppy joe meat.
Bake in 375F oven for 25 minutes.
I did put a slice or two of American Cheese on the top and baked for 10 more minutes but I would not add the cheese in again as it did not add anything to the party.
It was good. Leftovers kind of good.
~~~
And this morning? At around 3 am? My eyes popped open and remembered just where I had put that letter. I dragged my puffy eyed self out of bed and looked in that spot. Yup. There it was. All along.
Isn't that just the way?