Elissa Cooks Stuff: Beef with Broccoli (Or, Elissa Kills People: Medical Lackeys)

First things first: Dan’s been under the weather this week.

He picked something up (most likely) from the kid sitting behind us at Stake Conference (affectionately known ’round these parts as “Plague Kid”), and on Tuesday he woke up with a 101.4° fever. The doctor said it was bronchiolitis, which led to a 2-hour wild goose chase around Beaumont as I tried to find him a nebulizer.

CVS: We don’t have those. You need to go to a medical supply store.
Elissa: Okay…where’s the closest one?
CVS: There’s PRN, but I don’t know where that is.
Dan: *cries*
(After a phone call to my dad and a trip across town)
PRN: We don’t take your insurance. These two places do.
Elissa: Great…do you have an address for either of those?
PRN: Nope.
Dan: *cries louder*
(After texting Tom and driving out into the sticks to Taylor Home Health)
THH: We have a nebulizer, but not the exact kind of nebulizer your doctor prescribed, so you need to get a new script. [20 minutes after I’ve phoned Dan’s doctor] They haven’t sent the script over, and we have to have it. Also, you haven’t met your deductible, so it’s going to cost you [amount]. Honestly, you can just go to King’s Pharmacy and buy one for [amount/2].
Dan: *cries even louder*
(After a 15-minute drive to King’s Pharmacy, which is just down the street from our place)
Dan’s doctor’s nurse (on the phone): Okay, so you want me to do whaaaaaat?
Elissa: *bombs every pharmacy, doctor’s office, and medical supply store in Southeast Texas*
Dan: *SCREAMS*

I did salvage a nebulizer from the smoldering wreckage of King’s Pharmacy, which was great.

On Thursday, Dan seemed to be getting worse, and we found out he also has an ear infection. Now he’s taking five different drugs, and thankfully, he seems to be improving.

Oh yeah, and I’m sick too. But I’m a mom, so I’m just dealing with it. And by dealing with it, I mean binge-watching Jane Austen movies and Duck Dynasty with Dan to keep him entertained while I die sit on the couch.

No "Mom of the Year" award for me this year.

No “Mom of the Year” award for me this year.

The same day we found out about the ear infection, Dan’s pediatrician called to say that, according to his blood test results, he’s mildly anemic. It never rains but it pours.

But, that brings us to the real subject of today’s post. It seems like we probably need more red meat around the place! And coincidentally, Tom’s been bugging me to make beef with broccoli forever! So let’s do this!

***

I’ve never been a big beef fan, but this stuff is delicious. The trick to making good beef with broccoli is using Chinese barbecue sauce. You can find it at any decent Asian grocery store.

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And in case you’re wondering: no, it’s not very much like American barbecue sauce.

Mmmm, brill fish.

Mmmm, brill fish.

I’d never made this dish before, but it’s pretty straightforward. I used, roughly, the procedure in this recipe, but dude—skip the stir fry sauce. Use the barbecue sauce instead.

As before, I was supervised by the illustrious Chef Dan.

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“Don’t try to distract me with this cracker! Get back to work!”

 

I used this stuff to marinate the beef.

I used this stuff to marinate the beef.

 

Cookin some broccoli!

Cookin’ some broccoli!

Beef in the pan

Beef in the pan

I’m typically not really good at thickening sauces, but we pulled through.

Is it supposed to look like that?

Is it supposed to look like that?

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That’s better!

The finished product turned out quite beautifully.

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And now for the scoring:

Taste: Excellent!

Ease of preparation: Very easy. This one is definitely going into the regular rotation.

Ease of cleanup: No complaints here.

Will Tom eat it?: The first words out of his mouth were, “This is good junk!” I think we can give this a yes!

Will Dan eat it?: Nope. Chef Daniel was not impressed. He tried a little bit of pureed beef mixed with rice porridge, and it didn’t go over well.

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Oh well. We’ll cut him some slack—he’s had a rough week.

Overall evaluation: Woohoo! I’m very pleased with how this turned out, and excited that I can decently replicate it. It might even turn me into a beef lover. Who knows?

Happy eating!

A Thing I Wrote

I love fairy tales—they’re timeless and exciting, and their infinite variations are my favorite stories to read and write (Ella Enchanted, by Gail Carson Levine, is the reason I’m a writer). Last summer, I participated in a fairy tale retelling contest. It overlapped with a family wedding and our Glacier trip, so I didn’t end up finishing (we had to write five stories between June and August), but I did write one story that performed pretty well. Against my better judgment, I promised Tom that if he wrote some Twilight fanfiction for my blog, I would post the story here. Last week Tom delivered, so I have to post this thing no matter how embarrassing it is.

In case you can’t tell, this is a retelling of one of my favorite fairy tales, “The Fisherman’s Wife,” in which a magical fish grants the insane wishes of a very greedy woman. I decided to give it a Texas-style twist, since we’d recently passed the one-year mark of living in Beaumont. Without further ado, I give you “The Armadillo Trapper’s Wife.”

Armadillo

“C’mon, let me out of here!” the armadillo said. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Joe couldn’t believe it—what rotten luck. Money was tight, and he’d taken to armadillo trapping to help put food on the table. This was the first one he’d managed to catch, and now it was talking to him! “How’m I supposed to eat a talking armadillo?” he demanded. “It ain’t right.”

“No it ain’t!” said the armadillo. “Besides, I’m not a real armadillo. I’m actually a powerful wizard, but one of my spells went wrong and I got stuck like this. If you let me out of this trap, I’ll grant you a wish—anything you want.”

Shaking his head, Joe opened the trap’s door. “Off with you,” he said, nudging the cage with his foot. “Can’t eat a talking animal, even if you’re not a wizard. It just ain’t right.” Without another word, the armadillo crawled out of the trap.

“If you change your mind,” the armadillo said, “Just come back here and holler for me. My name’s Hoover.” Then he scampered away.

“Rotten luck,” Joe said, shaking his head. His wife wouldn’t like it—Sally’d have no problem eating a talking armadillo. But Joe’s conscience just couldn’t allow it. Trying to figure out what he’d say to her, Joe got into his truck and drove home.

Home wasn’t much to look at—just a tiny house with a bit of garden and a tire swing for the grandkids—but Joe had lived there ever since he’d married Sally, and now he couldn’t imagine life anywhere else. He went inside and found Sally in the kitchen stirring a big pot of her infamous squirrel stew.

“Catch anything?” she asked as Joe sat down at the table.

“Matter of fact, yes.” He told her about the talking armadillo, and how he’d had to let it go.

As he’d predicted, Sally was angry. “He offered you anything you wanted, and you let ‘im go?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t seem right to kill something that can talk. Besides, couldn’t think of anything to ask for. We got everything we need. Except a decent meal.” He grimaced at the stew pot, making Sally scowl.

“Joe, you’re just dumber’n a bag of hammers. I know what I’d ask for. I’d be out of this run-down shack.” She gave the stew a swish and banged her spoon on the side of the pot. “Tomorrow you go back there and tell that armadillo I want a nice house. Ooh, and a pool. Get me a pool.”

It still didn’t seem right to Joe, taking favors from some magical varmint, but he knew better than to argue with his wife when she started banging the cutlery.

***

And so, the next morning Joe went back. “Hoover!” he shouted. “C’mere! I want a word with you!”

The bushes rustled, and the armadillo from the day before emerged. “Well, if it ain’t my friend Joe! What can I do for you?”

“I talked to my wife, and she told me to ask you for a nice house. A swimmin’ pool, too, if you can manage it.”

The armadillo just looked at him for a few seconds. “You sure that’s what you want, Joe? You don’t seem too happy about it.”

He shrugged. “Gotta keep the wife happy.”

The armadillo nodded. “You’re a wise man, Joe. Tell you what: when you get home from work today, you’ll be livin’ in the house of your woman’s dreams.”

***

Sure enough, when he pulled up to where their little house had once been, he couldn’t recognize the place. It took fifteen minutes just to get down the driveway, and at the end of it was a house bigger than any he’d ever seen. He was almost afraid to get out of his truck, but Sally came to greet him.

“Ain’t this place wonderful?” she said as she took him inside and began to show him around.

“It’s real nice,” he admitted. “You sure outdone yourself, Sal.”

Sally was in a great mood for a few days while she set things up to her liking. Then she realized how much more they would be paying in property taxes.

“We’ll never afford it on what you’re making at that job of yours,” she said to Joe. “Go back and ask that armadillo for a better job.”

“But I like my job.” Joe ran the local convenience store. It gave him the chance to talk to folks, and he always had a candy jar out on the counter for the kids who came in. But Sally was right: they couldn’t afford a house like this.

“Then tell that armadillo to make me one of them oil tycoons. That’ll set us up.”

“It don’t seem right,” Joe said, “for my woman to work.”

Sally glared, slapping her wooden spoon into her palm. “Don’t be stupid. I won’t have to do much. I’ll have folks for that. Now you go talk to that armadillo!”

***

“An oil tycoon!” said Hoover. “That woman of yours thinks big.”

“Too big if you ask me,” Joe grumbled. “She don’t know nothin’ about running an oil company. But it’s what she wants. Can you help me out?”

“It’s already done,” said the armadillo. “Enjoy your vast riches.”

***

The armadillo was true to his word. Sally became the CEO of a major oil company, and she and Joe were suddenly very well off. Sally said it was bad for their image to have Joe working at the convenience store, but he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving, so he continued to drive his old truck out every morning (he wouldn’t give the truck up either, despite Sally’s nagging).

For a time, things were going well. Like Joe’d said, Sally had no idea how to run an oil company, but she did have people who handled it for her. Joe still wasn’t sure he was quite comfortable with their new way of life, but it did have its advantages.

For one, Sally hardly cooked anymore. One night, they went out to a nice restaurant Sally liked. “Well, Sal,” said Joe, glancing at her over the top of his menu. “It looks like we got everything we could ask for.”

Sally frowned at her menu. “Hmmm,” she said. “We’ll see about that.”

Gunshots cut off Joe’s answer.

There was a dead man lying not too far from Sally’s chair, covered in bullet holes. Four people at neighboring tables were holding still-smoking handguns. Sally took one look at the scene and fainted dead away.

Someone called the police, and almost everyone in the restaurant was questioned. While Joe tried to revive Sally, he got the whole story. It turned out the man had pulled a gun on Sally, but because this was Texas, the guy had four bullets in him before Joe or Sally even noticed. It was nearly 9:00 by the time the police let anyone go home.

**

When they got back to their mansion, Joe pulled Sally into a hug. “Oh, Sal,” he said, “It’s all right—”

But Sally pushed him away. “I ain’t scared, Joe. I’m angry. It shouldn’t be allowed.”

Joe frowned. “What shouldn’t?”

“Pullin’ guns on folks. It ain’t right. It’s a shame a self-respectin’ woman can’t go to a restaurant in peace.” She pointed her finger at Joe. “Tomorrow you go and tell that armadillo to make guns illegal. Better yet, git rid of ‘em altogether.”

Joe paled. “You can’t do that, Sally!” he said. “This is America. Folks have a right—”

“You don’t listen when I’m talkin’ to you. Do what I say!”

“I can’t Sally. It ain’t right.”

Sally drew herself up, flaring her nostrils the way she always did when she got angry. Joe rarely stood up to her this way. “What kinda man are you? Won’t even defend your wife! If you won’t make that armadillo give me what I want, I’ll go spend some time with Nancy.” (Nancy was their daughter. Joe was sure she wouldn’t take too kindly to Sally moving in with her.)

For the rest of the night, Joe tried to talk her out of it. He tried persuading, demanding, even begging; but Sally wouldn’t budge. And so, the next morning, Joe drove once more to see Hoover.

The armadillo was waiting for him. “Well well!” he said. “What does she want this time?”

Joe told him—he could hardly force the words out, but he managed. When he finished, the armadillo just stared at him.

“I can’t do that,” he said finally. “Shoot, I like you, Joe, but this is…this is out of line.”

Joe just sighed, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t ask you to,” he said. “But she insisted. She’s losin’ it, Hoover. All this money and power…it ain’t good for her, somehow. Can’t you do anything?”

The armadillo thought for a while. “Go home, Joe,” he said. “I’ll do what I can, make sure you get what you deserve.”

Joe watched Hoover for a moment, and then nodded. He started walking back to his truck, then turned and waved. “See you ‘round,” he said, “or maybe not.”

“Let’s go with ‘maybe not,’” said Hoover.

***

Joe drove home, wondering what the armadillo had had in mind when he’d said they’d get what they deserved. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing, and with the way Sally had been acting…well, Joe hoped everything was all right.

He turned onto their road and whistled. The giant mansion Sally had ordered had shrunk back into their own little house. Sally herself was sitting out on the porch, wearing her old apron (splattered with fresh squirrel stew, of course), her hair done up in its usual little bun. Joe got out of the truck, expecting her to lay into him—obviously the armadillo hadn’t complied with her wish.

But instead, Sally smiled at him. “Can’t believe I’ve missed this place,” she said. “That armadillo gave me everything I wanted, but it was never enough. Who’da thought all I needed was to have this house back?”

Joe chuckled, sat down beside her, and put his arm around her shoulders. “Well, you know what they say,” he said. “Don’t look a gift armadillo in the mouth.”

She frowned at him. “Why would I want to look in its mouth?”

“Never mind.”

Guest Post: Tom’s Twilight “Fan” Fiction!

To make a long story short, Elissa told me (Tom) she would post a story of hers on the blog if I gave her some adequate incentive. I’ve supported her making more of her writing more available for a long time, so this was a big deal, but my first thoughts—nice dinner date or the like—weren’t cutting it. The offer of a 1000-word Twilight fanfiction piece, though, was instantly accepted. So here it is. Sorry, world.

 

Breakfast Dan is not impressed with the source material.

Breakfast Dan is not impressed with the source material.

A Twilight Deleted (?) Scene

(Not clear from which book.)

 

Bella sat staring at the wall of her bedroom, waiting for Edward to arrive. After four whole hours without his cool touch on her skin, without his beautiful marble figure, without his deific perfection, without his adorable crooked smile…well, it had been agony, but soon Charlie would go to bed and that brief terrible period between the end of school and seeing Edward again would end.

“Maybe it would help if I did anything except basic domestic tasks, school, and reading barely enough classic romance for Mrs. Meyer to be able to allude to it,” thought Bella.

Suddenly, she heard a click outside her window. “Edward! Edward! Edward! Edward! But Jacob, but never mind, so Edward! Edward, Edward!? Edward!” she thought.

He crept into her room as majestically as a lion from the royal zoo.

“Hi,” he said with a crooked smile on his stony, adorable features. His color-changing eyes, which somehow no one else notices despite the undeniable fact that his golden eyes were oh-so-much too delicious to be human, stared at her.

“Hi,” she said back.

“I almost thought I heard your thoughts for once as I was walking up,” said Edward. “Something about needing hobbies, goals, or aspirations?”

“Durrrrrr,” murmured Bella, enraptured.

“Oh well,” said Edward. “Didn’t really think so. Guess your gift of non-discernible thought is still active. Have I mentioned lately how much I want to kill you and suck out every last drop of your blood? It’s so appetizing, like a brownie muffin entirely permeated with the hardest crack cocaine. Did you know that some vampires prefer to kill alcoholic drug addicts for the extra buzz?”

“If I was a vampire, I would just eat endangered species with you and love you forever and ever,” said Bella. “Don’t you want to bite me so we can be together forever?”

“Bella, how many times have we had this conversation?” asked Edward, as he kissed her all up and down her jaw with his perfectly perfect lips. She felt a rush of teenage hormones accompanied by an ineffable feeling that he was The One, although man, those werewolf biceps though…

“Not for a few pages days,” said Bella. “I don’t care about my soul—I’m not using it! Especially here in Forks. Bite me.”

“No,” said Edward. “I’m still thinking I might rather watch you die slowly of old age and then commit suicide in some place that will look really cool when they make a movie out of it…think Italy or somewhere.”

“But then we would only get to experience high school once! I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than sit in classes with you on endless loop, with perfect recall of having done it all before, especially given that as members of your family we will have effectively unlimited funds to do anything else we want. Your family’s life just seems so awesome, you know?” said Bella. “Although I would also like to do some motorcycle cliff-jumping with creepy men outside of bars, just on the side.”

“Bella, don’t do anything dangerous. As you know I control your life, except for I claim to let you do anything you want, but still try to manipulate the heck out of you because this is a textbook abusive relationship, and I couldn’t stand it.” He slowly stroked her left earlobe with his cool finger while she stared at his beautiful marble figure, crooked smile, and Greek god-like features. “Something something I would commit suicide.”

“Durrr,” Bella murmured again. “You’re so old-fashioned,” she said, and ridiculously attractive she mentally added.

“Oh, by the way, some vampire or other is probably going to try to kill you soon,” said Edward. “It’s a tried and true plot device, all part of my conspiracy to make you fall in love with me while popping lots of heads off.”

“Isn’t that a pretty good reason to make me a vampire, Romeo Edward?” said Bella.

“But it would be so hard on your relationship with Charlie. A few more months of non-monster-hood will definitely make it much better when you then ultimately become a supernatural freak and disappear from his life,” said Edward. He kissed her, with all the fiery passion of a thousand dying suns, sending tingles down her spine, but also like a perfect gentleman and with admirable restraint.

She kissed back urgently, trying to seduce him, but Edward pulled away. “Can’t have this until you put a ring on it, my dearest darling Danish,” he said.

“But I just want you to love me forever, and I have hippy-dippy Millennial ideas about how marriage screws up relationships,” she said, admiring his body straight from a Michelangelo sculpture.

“But since I’m almost a hundred years older than you, which isn’t creepy at all, and have fallen inextricably in love you with you primarily because of how good your blood smells, it all makes sense,” said Edward in his silky-smooth voice that was like the sound of baby angels frolicking on a sunny hillside. Bella thought of how sparkly his rock-hard chest was in the sunlight. Sparkle sparkle sparkle mmmmmmm. It was a mystery to her how she enjoyed cuddling a cold, hard object so frequently compared to a stone, but she sure did.

“Durrrr,” she said. “I guess I’m still a bit worried about those vampires coming to kill me, mostly because I can’t stand the thought of them possibly hurting you, but I guess at least I will be the center of attention.” Maybe me and you and Jacob can even be thrown into some really tense relationship situations, she thought.

“Well, how about you go to sleep while I hold you, because that’s not creepy at all, and we can definitely do it consistently for a year in a two-bedroom house without your father ever noticing,” said Edward.  He took her hand and the last car in her toy-sized train of thought slowly rolled off the track.

“Durrr,” Bella murmured as she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of creepy foreshadowing.

***

Note from Elissa:
Isn’t this fantastic? Tom is the greatest.
Tune in next week as I fulfill my end of the deal.

The (Slightly Late) GTA Year In Review

Hi, friends! It’s been awhile. I hope you had a merry Christmas and a happy new year!

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Most of these “year in review” posts came out days ago, but I’ve been busy partying with the Tom and Dapper Dan. Even so, I want to talk about all the crazy things that have happened this year.

The Dan

The most important event of 2015 in our family was, of course, Daniel’s birth!

I love these guys.

I love these guys.

Dan started off his life as a skinny, sleepy little bundle of cuteness. Now, at almost 9 months old, he’s a fat, happy, hyper little bundle of cuteness.

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Dan sleeps well, crawls like a champ, stands with help, and has been spotted walking with a shopping cart. He makes just about every consonant sound, gives slobbery kisses, and is momentarily deterred by the word “no.” He loves fruit, books, peekaboo, being tossed in the air by Dad, and trying to get to the toilet whenever someone leaves the bathroom door open.020

Daniel’s kidneys are slowly-but-surely improving: by September, we found out the kidney swelling had decreased by half. He did have a UTI a few months ago, which could indicate an unresolved issue, so we’re monitoring him carefully. It’s very important that he doesn’t get any more infections, and we’re taking all the precautions we can. Still, if anyone has any extra prayers, we’d appreciate them.

Overall, Daniel is a happy, healthy little boy who brings so much joy to our family. We’re so happy to be his parents!

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Just look at that happy little dude. We must be doing something right!

The Tom

In the Tom’s own words:

I had a good year, for lots of reasons but especially because Dan was born and has done so well since. Our time together as a family was awesome, especially our trips to Glacier National Park and New Orleans. My work at Valero was interesting, educational, and generally went well, especially [proprietary information removed] and despite [proprietary information removed]. Off the clock, I read something like 15 or 20,000 pages, including Churchill’s four-volume History of the English-Speaking Peoples, Lord of the Rings (in Italian), and lots of other fun stuff. I produced a bunch of free e-books for the Mormon Texts Project and survived running the MTP internship program for another summer, too.

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Nothing more attractive than a babywearing man!

Nothing more attractive than a babywearing man!

 

Writing

Hey, do you guys want to see my NaNoWriMo progress chart?

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Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Hahaha. Haha. The best part is that I wasn’t even participating properly—I was transcribing my handwritten novel from last year. November was absolutely insane (I’ll tell you about it sometime), and I just couldn’t handle NaNo in any form.

Honestly, this has been a pretty sorry year for writing generally. Apparently I only wrote five blog posts (although they were totally awesome!), and aside from a few short stories, I haven’t really written any fiction. I’m not going to beat myself up over this; after all, I made an awesome Dan, and somehow managed to keep him alive for almost 9 months. And I’ve got big plans for next year, which I’ll be sharing as they materialize. One of my goals this year is to blog more frequently, so you’ll be hearing from me more often!

Crafting

This may have been a bad year for writing, but it’s been an excellent year for crafts! Thanks to my parents, I’ve recently acquired a sewing machine, which has opened up a whole new world of crafting. Here’s the list of projects I completed in 2015.

First of all, I finally finished Dan’s crochet baby blanket!

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It turned out much larger than I expected. This is good, because it ended up being his Christmas present. It’s big enough that Dan can pretty much use it for the rest of his life.

Next, you may remember Dan’s Halloween costume:

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The hat, cloak, and brooch were all homemade. I’m still tickled by how well this turned out.

I also made some baby blankets for various purposes:

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Last, but not least, I made myself this nursing cover by Pretty Prudent:

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Dan refuses to nurse under a blanket, and I can’t say I blame him—it’s got to be pretty hot under there! This allows him to breathe and look at me while he’s eating. It also keeps it dark enough for him to fall asleep during church (assuming this doesn’t happen: “OOOOOPS! I DIDN’T KNOW ANYONE WAS IN HERE! DO YOU WANT THE LIGHT OFF AGAIN?!”)

Conclusion

There’s a lot more I could write here, but I know how long it takes to scroll through all these baby pictures. Overall, 2015 was a pretty good year. It was definitely the hardest year I’ve ever had, but also the most rewarding. Tom, Dan and I are really hitting our stride as a family. It’s looking like 2016 will be even better, and I can’t wait to see what it brings.

I’ve got exciting posts lined up for the next two weeks, so check back soon! And tell me how your year went in the comments!