Eggies

Jules and I laugh each time we see the actors laboriously peel the shell from hard boiled eggs in the Eggies commercials. Despite the shallow acting, we'd say "why didn't we think of that?" A week ago Jules bought a box of those labor saving devices.

Despite our near three decades of marriage, it still does not occur to me that one should wash cookware just purchased from the store. "It looked clean to me" is probably a man's mantra. Fortunately Jules does make sure cookware of unknown origins always gets washed. So the Eggies were washed and set to dry on our counter. When it came time to put them away I decided I would just put them in service.

Earlier Wookie let me know she wanted to crack eggs and empty them into the Eggies, so I called her into the kitchen and set water boiling in a pan. I had Wookie crack the eggs into a measuring cup and explained "in case you get shells mixed in." She cracked an egg - no shells. So far so good.

Each Eggie consists of four parts. I fit the bottom three parts together leaving the cap off.

"Your not doing it right" said Wookie

"I am" I countered.

We both looked at the box. "O.K" she said.

She poured the egg white and yolk into the Eggie. The hole is not wide enough to prevent some of the egg white from running down the side.

Wookie tried another one but this time she wanted to separate the yolk from the egg. She was doing a good job pouring the egg white out of the cup into the Eggie while carefully retaining the yolk in the measuring cup.

"Wait" I said, " Use the yolk separating tool that came with the Eggie." It was listed as a "bonus" item on the box.  Wookie poured the yolk onto the separating tool. By this time, only about a half teaspoon of egg white was left to separate.

Wookie let me finish the rest of the eggs. On my first try I managed to get two egg shells into the measuring cup with the egg. Using a neat trick I learned long ago, I used part of the shell to fish out the broken eggshells. Unfortunately my "fishing" scoop eggshell also broke so I now had three eggshells floating in the cup. I decided I would use the yolk separater to capture the eggshells. I managed to get two of them as I poured the egg over the separater and along the side of the Eggie. I had egg all over the counter. By the time I cleaned up the mess, I figured I could have peeled the shells from three regular hard boiled eggs.

I finally had all six containers filled, each with egg on the sides since the yolk would momentarily plug the hole before falling in, which let egg white run over the side. In two cases the yolk broke before pouring into the hole. Some of the Eggies leaked around the middle because the retaining collar was not screwed on tight enough. I tightened them and then set each Eggie into the pot of boiling water. Soon it was apparent that I didn't tighten one Eggie enough as I saw Eggie components floating in the pot with the egg scum on top of the water.

As I watched the eggs boil, it occurred to me that I just put enclosed capsules of egg and air in boiling water. That didn't seem right from a physics perspective. I looked at the box - the third step shows a complete container ready for boiling. I probably shouldn't completely trust pictures drawn in countries that have potential for being enemies of the U.S. In this case nothing happened - when I later retrieved the Eggies, everyone of them were full of water. Not exactly air tight. So before putting them in the fridge, I had to unscrew the cap and pour out the water.

For breakfast this morning, Wookie went for an Eggie. She twisted the Eggie ("As seen on TV"). Nothing happened. I had to scoop it out with a spoon.  Later Jules told us we didn't follow the directions - turns out there was a folded paper in the box with seven steps, four more than the three shown on the outside of the box. Sure enough, step 2 states "You MUST coat the inside of the Eggies with either non-stick cooking spray or oil. DO NOT spray directly into the Eggies. Spray onto paper towel and evenly coat the inside of the top and bottom pieces." I didn't remember seeing this in the commercial.

Interestingly enough, step one is "Wash Eggies before use." Jules said this type of product isn't good for a nation where only one third of the population reads directions. I said "That high?" She said she was extrapolating her estimate from the population sample in our household. She always was a curve buster.

So in the end I can report it takes seven eggs to produce five eggs from Eggies. I'm not sure you'll save much peeling time once you've accounted for cleaning counters, washing Eggies, and washing egg scum off your pots.

Monopoly

"I'm gonna make you cry" I teased

"I'm not gonna" Wookie replied as she helped set up the monopoly game.

I was just getting her psyched for our epic game.

Wookie always wants to play monopoly but is seldom accommodated. It's a long game. When I was her age I was the one trying to get others to play.  Understanding her frustration, I suggested we set up a game and play it for a limited amount of time each night. She thought that was a great idea. We've had the board set up on a card table in the office for the past week.

Technically we are on game three. Wookie would say the first two were mulligans.  Both involved me owning a lot of houses and some luck of the dice. Incredibly Wookie managed to land on my Park Place or Broadway three times in a row. Each time I had added another house.

"I get to go in debt" she said.

"What!, she's been watching the Fed" I thought?

"No, that's not part of the rules" I said

We settled on a $200 debt limit, but I had to do the loaning. None of this Fed stuff.

"You didn't pay the $75 inheritance tax" I said

"I didn't have to since you rolled the dice" She said

"So?"

"If you aren't paying attention and roll the dice without making sure I don't pay, I don't have to" She said "It's MONOPOLY"

"I don't think that's in the rules" I said

"That's the way Rachee does it" she replied.

I'm not sure what the rules are on this point. They aren't in the box and the last time I read them was when I was Wookie's age.

"OK" I said, noting the death spiral in Wookie's finances.

"Dad, you think we could start over" she asked

I made an exaggerated show of looking her in the eye.

"I'm not crying" she said

The Princess and the Tremors

"You know I felt one more earthquake after you went to bed last night" Wookie told me as I drove her home from school.

"You are the princess that can feel the pea!" I said slightly amazed.

She told me she felt six total. I felt or rather "heard" four - they manifested themselves as slight rattles in the house. No sensation of movement like the larger earthquakes I experienced living in the Philippines and Alaska.

Wookie noticed the first quake sometime after dinner.

"Did you feel that!" she said excitedly

Jules did. I didn't. I had been napping half on the love seat.

After we went to bed I heard what sounded like the cat playing under the bed. The window blinds rustled slightly. I thought I had taken the cat out before I shut the bedroom door. I couldn't be sure. For a moment I thought maybe it was a tremor. I really didn't want to get out of bed to toss the cat out.

Then I heard movement from Wookie's room. She was making a beeline to Jules' and my room. No doubt in my mind then - it must have been an earthquake. Or we had two cats.

Wookie made her way to my side of the bed in the dark.

"Dad! Did you feel the earthquake! I'm scared" she said.

"Yeah, but it was a little one. Maybe it was an airplane  or truck that drove by" I replied

"No! it was an earthquake!"

"Well, let's see if there is anything on the internet" I said getting out of bed.

I found a seismograph web site. The nearest station was on the North end of Antelope Island. Probably in the visitors center I thought. I pulled up the chart and it took me a few minutes to figure it out. First it was recording in Mountain Standard Time one hour off from our Daylight Time. Then I realized each line covered fifteen minutes - four lines to the hour. Sure enough there was needle movement in the middle of the third line below the 21:00 mark. Converting to Daylight Time it happened at 10:38.  There also appeared to be a 10 minute delay.

"Look at this squiggly line. It shows an earthquake at 10:38, just a little while ago." I pointed it out to Wookie.

"See, I was right" she said. "You said it was an airplane!"

Shortly afterward we heard slight rattling throughout the house.

"There is another one Dad!" as she grabbed my arm. This happened two more times, each with the same accompanying arm grab from Wookie.

We waited and refreshed the seismographic plot. Sure enough, three more squiggly lines appeared, starting around 10:55.

I convinced Wookie that a bunch of smaller earthquakes released pent up energy making it less likely a large earthquake would happen soon, then I went to bed.

The next morning I printed off the plot at work and showed Emma. She had also felt the 10:38 earthquake but she didn't feel the three others.

"Huh!" I thought, when I saw the last set of squiggly lines at 11:50. There was one more tremor after I went to bed for the final time. I didn't feel it.

But the princess did!

In Like a Lion...



Less than a week ago, I was writing about the largest snowfall of the season. Today we enjoyed a slightly cool spring day. It was nice enough to enjoy a walk through the neighborhood without a sweater.



Winter Wonderland Last Week





Spring Today







I don't think the snow fort will last till April



Where do you find a cat with no legs?

The same place you left him.



Stitch McDuck



March Snow

Are those my safety glasses?

Wookie and I like snow.

"Look at all the snow Dad! If you go out to shovel I'll help."

She never got around to shoveling, which is just as well. We had about six inches of wet snow tonight and it was heavy. The plow came by and left huge balls of snow in its wake. Wookie rolled one over to the front yard to make a snowman. I shoveled the snow from the driveway next to the snowman under construction; she'll use the pile to make a snow fort. This may be the last year she'll want to make snow forts. Maybe it won't melt until April.

Wookie also likes to ski, but I've never learned, so she has only done it twice - both times arranged by Rachee, the only other sibling who skis. I thought about taking some lessons, but I think my bones are too brittle. I'll stick to snow shoeing.

Friday Night Ritual

A couple of Fridays ago, Wookie calls from Gertrude's house: "What time are you coming?"

"I'll pick you up at 10:00 pm"

"How about 10:30" she replies

"No, I'm picking you up at 10:00"

"Helga gets to stay later, why can't I stay till 10:30"

Exasperated, with a raised voice "Because I'm not planning to stay up till 10:30!"

"Hold on, let me turn the phone off speaker" she says

Me "!"

I pick up Wookie, at 10:00 pm; coincidently, Helga is getting picked up at the same time by her Dad.

Check Please!

As you've probably heard by now, Jules worked this Valentines, so we had our Valentines date Saturday. It was quite the romantic evening. We spent five minutes on dinner at our favorite steak restaurant and the rest of the evening touring Ogden emergency rooms to sew Jules hand back together.

One of the things I admire about Jules is she is very decisive, but Saturday it worked against her. Somehow she flipped her steak knife off her plate and quick as a flash she reached out to grab it. The knife sliced a one inch long gash in her hand. The restaurant staff provided a temporary bandage. I got the meals boxed and paid the check.

We arrived at McKay-Dee the same time a gaggle of police arrived with a suspect/patient – and they wanted additional security. We headed up to Ogden Regional instead. They were advertising an eight minute wait on a billboard we passed.

Five stitches! Jules can tell you about the first stitch she took without pain killer.

I have to admit, earlier I was thinking "If Ogden Regional doesn't work out, there's always Walgreen’s and butterfly bandages". I'm glad we stuck with the emergency room.  

Baby It's Cold Outside

Best remoldeling decision we've made so far? Thermostat in the bedroom.

Don't Know Much about History

"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
- George Santayana

"If you don't learn history, it will repeat. So don't teach me about the good parts."
- Wookie

Driving Miss Wookie

Emma just got off the phone with her daughter.

“She’s home?” I asked

“Yeah, it’s ‘early out’” she replied.

Yikes! – I forgot the Wookie has ‘early out’ too.

Early out Fridays – something I’m not used to. Jules usually gets Wookie to and from school, but Jules was at a conference. I would pick up Wookie instead. In fact I was in the process of setting my alarm to remind me in an hour when I realized I had to leave immediately to make it on time.

I got to school just before the bell. No harm no foul, but if I had missed the rendezvous the first distress call would go to Mom. Then the inevitable text from Jules: “Where are you? Did you forget again?!”  I’ve only forgotten once, but that’s all it took to get a reputation.

An hour late, Jules texted “Did you remember to pick up Wookie?”

She was an hour off too. I texted back and let her know I even remembered ‘early out’- that would help to restore my reputation.

Jules and I opted not to join a car pool. We both tend to get agitated waiting for kids marching to their own drummers. So we keep friendly relations with the neighbors and do our own driving. It’s just 10 minutes in the morning and 10 more in the afternoon.

“Dad! We gotta’ go back to school” said Wookie as we entered our neighborhood. “I forgot to turn in my registration for next year”.

Usually 10 minutes.

We treated the boys differently. When Tyler was the same age, he was on his own as far as getting to and from school was concerned. So were his friends. They rode skateboards and bikes down and back. We assured them this was great preparation for scouting. Or whatever. If it was snowing, I would drive the boys to school on my way to work. They formed their own car pool when they became drivers. There were six young men; one who had a car with only five seats. We let them figure it out. They were accident free – as far as I know.

But we get to drive Wookie for now. That way we don’t worry about skateboarding packs of boys.

That’s Mister Señor

When I mention I have a son on a mission in Uruguay, some who know Spanish condescendingly turn on the Ricky Ricardo voice and say “OO-a-gu-ay.” Or something Spanish sounding. It's amusing. Call me old school, but if I start a sentence in English I like to end it in English. After all, when Ricky tells me his kid is in Germany I don't wince and tell him it’s pronounced “Deutschland.”

But I will make an exception for the Tehas, Saint Anthony mission - you know, home to the Alamo. Mixing Spanish and English in the same sentence is quite common there. The locals call it Spanglish. It’s a bit endearing, but as one frustrated employer put it, “It’s not bilingual, it’s being illiterate in two languages.”

So I'll continue to pronounce "Uruguay" in Lucy's language while enjoying the inevitable Ricky impersonations that will follow.

White Shirts

“What IS the deal with the white shirts?”

Emma interjected the question during a conversation that began about business attire. I had just remarked that sometimes I wore my current outfit - green slacks and tweed jacket - to church, except I would change the tan shirt for a white shirt.

Emma is a Baptist, but has lived in Utah all her life. She has observed a lot of Mormons going to church.

“It’s nothing doctrinal” I said. “Peer pressure I suppose. I can see how that custom would be daunting for someone attending our church for the first time”

“I guess it is like the older ladies in my church who wear hats” She said.

“Not as much as we wear white shirts”, I opined.

“No, they always wear them” she said

We concluded a lot of what we wear at church is more a matter of culture then doctrine. I told her when I lived in the Philippines, as a teen, I wore a barong to church. No tie – it was great. My brother had a barong, too, but he also had a suit made from camouflage fabric. He and several of his friends would wear them to church. I can’t imagine seeing one of those today.

Emma told me she once visited a relative’s congregation. The minister met her wearing a baseball cap and the ushers wore doo-rags.

“That was different” she said, but she enjoyed the service nonetheless.

Later I checked conference reports for “white shirts”. As expected, I didn’t find any requirements for men to wear them but several brethren did encourage the Aaronic priesthood to wear white shirts when administering the sacrament. It would help prepare them to dress like missionaries where white shirts are a requirement. The other reason given is the white would help remind members of the other sacred ordinances made in the Temple. I concluded I would probably continue to wear white shirts in sacrament meeting as encouragement for the young men, however I also know I would feel self-consious if I didn't.

But wearing white shirts to church is not a requirement. Yesterday was stake conference – no sacrament meeting. I wore my green pants, tweed jacket, and tan shirt.

During my discussion with Emma she told me about watching a group of young men and women walking to the institute chapel next to Weber State University. Among the group was an African American wearing a red suit.

She said “I thought, ‘Brother, you already stand out, that suit isn’t going to help’”

“More power to him” I laughed.

But was he wearing a white shirt?

Thought of You - by Ryan Woodward

About the video

Negotiations

The other day I was sorting and stocking women's outfits as a volunteer at the local DI when I got a text from the Wookie.

"Hey"

"Hey, I got a text from my daughter!" I told my fellow women's apparrel volunteer.

But wait, she doesn't usually text me during school. I check my watch - its 3:30. School's been out for 30 minutes. Did Jules forget to pick her up? I text back:

"How are you?"

No reply. I figure she texted me by mistake. I go back to the long sleeve, knit tops. Later Wookie tells me "I meant to text Helga*, but your name is right next to hers and I accidentally sent the text to you instead."

Well at least I was able to gain a glimpse into the world of communication between teenagers.

Parent-child communication is a bit different. Last night I got this text:

Wookie: "What time do I need to come home?"

I'm thinking 10:00 pm. I check my watch. Its 10:06. Dang, is it that late already? We'll she had the courtesy to ask so I don't tell her to come home immediately. I text:

Dad: "10:31 and a half"

I tell Jules that Wookie just texted. "I told her to come home at 10:31 and a half". I think that's funny, so does Jules. "I bet she asks to stay till eleven". Wookie replies:

Wookie: "What does that mean"

Dad: "Be home before 10:32"

Wookie: "How about eleven?"

Of course I don't want to O.K. eleven. That's late and besides what are Helga's parents going to think if I let her stay out till eleven.

Dad: "10:15"

Wookie: "What? Please?"

Dad: "Be home by 10:32"

Wookie: "Ten forty five?"

It's now 10:15. I'm wondering what the point is in staying later when all you are going to do is spend that time texting.

Dad: "Ok"

Wookie: "Dad! Thats only a fifteen min different"

Jules quotes Ferdy the Fence from the movie Stardust: "That's not negotiation! I'm changing my number!"

Dad: "How about coming home now?"

Wookie: "No! But I just foot set why"

Dad: "And I foot set because".

I'm having fun now. Jules smiles, but cautions me. She knows Dads and daughters have different ideas on whats funny.

Wookie: "What?"

Dad: "Just sayin..."

Wookie: "Saying what?"

Dad: "10:45"

Wookie: "Ok"

Its now 10:30. I make a mental note to see if I need to check into unlimited texting. Am I paying by the "hey" or the message?

At 10:46 I hear voices on the front porch. Close enough.



*Name changed to protect the innocent.

Beginnings

When I told Jules I was thinking about starting a new blog she looked at me with a slightly raised eyebrow "About what?"

"Not politics" I said.

We've been married over two and a half decades, so I knew what she was asking in those two words. I love her and she loves me. She proves it by listening to me yammer about politics, but she knows no one else does, at least willingly. No, this blog will be about family with no gratuitous links to political commentary. Earlier I was reading to her Mark Steyn's latest essay. Twenty minutes into it I noticed she was scrolling through KSL's channel guide on her I-phone. She doesn't watch TV.

"You're not listening are you?" I asked.

"No, I am, 'One fifth of British children are raised in homes in which no adult works'" she quotes back to me.

I smile. Like I said, she loves me.

The first task was coming up with a blog name. Francis Peak is already taken - it's my blog for political ranting. As you can see nothing's bothered me since April of last year. Before the internet, I would just talk back to the T.V. Now we have blogs; they are a great outlet - in fact if you check the site meter you'll see just as many people who heard me through the T.V. screen are also reading the blog.

Anatreptic is also taken. Mick Stockinger, the blog owner, allows me to post there. When I do, people actually read my posts, until they realize it isn't Mick's post. He has great insights and they are worth the read. But I warn you, occasionally you'll see the words "Hell" and "Damn" there. Even the "P-word". My new blog is going to be a "G"-rated, family friendly blog - so you won't see those words here.

I finally decided to choose a title from one of the movie quotes our family is fond of repeating to each other. I had several to choose from:

"Beef and Nazis"
"Why do we even have that lever"
"You keep using that word. I don't think it means what you think it means." - O.K. a bit long.

"Soon to be the two of us", however, fits Jules' and my situation. We like it.

Wookie came in and asked what I was doing.

"He is making a new blog." Jules said

Wookie came to my side of the bed.

"Oh, this is fun - scoot over Dad, I'm going to help." she said.

New Times Roman Font for the title, courtesy of the Wookie. Hot pink background - out.

"Hey, I get it" she realized. "The title is about me."

"Don't worry, it's not personal" I said. "We still want you around. I thought it would be a fun title that the family can relate to"

There used be be seven of us under this roof, now there are only three.

"O.K." she said. She didn't seem worried. After all, she is in line to get a drum set.

So this blog is primarily for my family, or those who can be considered family ("She IS Family" I just had to throw that in). If you don't understand something, chances are you don't remember the movie, it's a family joke, or you missed the last family gathering. Or just a typo. I'll write about family happenings and may even quote a few scriptures. But be warned, the scriptures use works like "Hell", "Damn" and the "P-word".