Thursday, August 28, 2008

Right thing, wrong place

I wrap the fresh, hot loaf in a tea towel to keep the crust soft, toss the cheese into a ziplock and lob it into the fridge to firm up. I double check before whizzing to the supermarket. My daughter, the job seeker, will mind Nonna, or maybe the other way around?

I return home with emergency supplies.

I smell it immediately. The strong honk of "cheese," or more specifically "Cambozola." My very, very favourite, unless you include Stilton, which is much more difficult to find in California, "the cheese capital of the world." Out here, blue cheese is for drinking, in liquid form only, more commonly referred to a Blur dressin.

I look around for cheese but find none. I do find a sign on my computer screen. A big red warning sign that states, ‘DEVICE REMOVAL!’ which is a little worrisome.

I dive into the garden to pick cherry tomatoes before the sprinkler system kicks in to flaunt me. I trip over a spade in the middle of the path and several heaps of soil, mole like when I am confident that my garden if free of vermin. Nonna appears from out of the pergola, “ave you phoned?”
“Phoned whom?”
“Dah Chemist in England?”
“Oh no, remember, the pharmacy doesn’t open until 8:30 tomorrow morning, so I’ll phone them at 11:30 tonight when it will already be tomorrow there……. then.”

I blink.

Nonna blinks. “Right…..I think.”

It certainly already feels like tomorrow.

I pause just in case there are additional queries after my gobbledegook and then dash back into the house, dump the tomatoes next to the bread and zip over to the garage door. I pause and shut my eyes so that my vision can adjust to the gloom where the freezer is parked. I step into the garage and fall over a body bag as I have failed to inventorize my daughter’s camping equipment. I heave six foot of dead weight away from the pristine freezer and peer inside. I am out of time. It’s instant food in the microwave or nought. I fly back into the house where my camper job seeker is close to my computer. “Hi mum.”
“Hello dear. Do you need something?”
“I can’t find the phone.”
“Maybe you left it by your computer for all the job interviews?”

Nonna appears in the kitchen waving something at me, “Ah dere you are! I thought you were lost. What about dis thing den?”
I take the thing from her hand, a curling iron.
“Would you like me to curl your hair?”
“No I can do it myself thank you.”
“Alright…….” I wait for a clue.
“Oh…….Ah!” she opens her other hand which holds a gas canister which she rolls like a wad of notes.
I take it, twist out the old one and tuck in the new one, “there you go.”
“Mum?” My camper appears, unstuck from her own computer screen. “Why are their fifteen messages on the phone?”
“Because I don’t want to delete them.”
“Because they sound very garbled but there might be something important there when I can decipher them, maybe tonight, when it’s less………busy.”
I have only a few moments until I need to collect the children from school but I must also ensure that sustenance is available for the starving minions on return.
“Yes dear.”
“It’s only ten bucks an hour, 24 hour alternate shifts.”
“But does it have medical benefits? That’s the bit you need to find out.”
“Er……right.” She bounds off and leaves me in the heat and cheese infested kitchen. I hit the delete button on the telephone messages. Where is the cheese? Maybe she could get a job in CSI, or at least the forensic training? I still have one Pokemon head, one tail and one miscellaneous limb to superglue back onto various bodies.

Nonna reappears waving a mug at me. I pour her a fresh cup of coffee in a fresh mug, dump out the sour milk, rinse the container and leg it out to the recycling bin before the refuse disposal unit appears. Back inside Nonna waves at me with a little flap for emphasis, as she conjures up a complete question for me. “So……….as she got a job yet den?”
“No….not yet.”
“When she get one den?”
“Soon we hope.”
I brain beeps with a visual message. I re-open the fridge door where there is a tea towel dangling down. I remove it and unwrap it to find a wedge of gooey Cambozola cheese. I step over to the counter and the half loaf of fresh bread stuffed into a cheesey old zip lock bag!
“Yes dear?”
“The school phoned.”
“Did they? But I just deleted all the messages… you said!” Why do I listen to any of my children?
“Oh no. I spoke to them.”
“Ah. What was the message?”
“He’s fine.”
“Who is fine?”
“Oh I thought you’d already spoken to the school nurse?”
“Yes. They managed to get the eraser out of his nose. He promises he won’t do it again.”


Empress Bee (of the High Sea) said...

oh honey! and you bake bread too? i need a nap... sorry.

smiles, bee

Osh said...

*crying because I'm still in my nighty*

mumkeepingsane said...

“Yes. They managed to get the eraser out of his nose. He promises he won’t do it again.”

Ok, I laughed till I cried. I was not expecting this at all when I read it.

Who ate your bread and cheese???

Kaber said...

THIRD try at leaving you a note- I keep messing up stuff... password, left it on MINE instead of yours on try #2.....

here goes:

arg- wrong password. I always mix up my letters and have to start over.

--- thanks for the note.

Homemade bread sounds yummy!!!

Niksmom said...

I think I would have gone into the bedroom, closed the door turned out the lights, and crawled under the covers until your camper got a job, Nonna stopped well- whatever -and all erasers were, um, eradicated from your household. Or until husband came home! ;-)

Jayne said...

Hope the bread and cheese was edible!

Anonymous said...

I was thinking Nonna ate the bread and cheese, and then misplaced the remains....but sometimes I'm a bit off at interpreting stories. We had to do quite a bit of prompting to get our firstborn to seek and obtain his first job. What worked for us was to provide a vehicle with insurance but no gas. We think he gets it now.

ahva-rahn said...

trying to correct a few nose blemishes no doubt.

i'm mad for the stilton too, but make do with muddy gorgonzola, and bosc pears to chase.

be well,

Laura said...

Oh my! I'm impressed you managed to make bread! I vaguely recall an incident from childhood involving something non-edible being in the fridge, and it's edible counterpart left on the counter on one of those frazzled mom days. Not that *I* would ever do that in this day and age. Cough. No, I'm completely on top of things around here. Oh yeah, that's what's poking me in he bottom - it's been hidden under the couch cushion this whole time?

Isabelle said...

Ah, the joys of family life. It's not dull.

david mcmahon said...

Wonderful post, Maddy.

I'm still travelling in the Yukon, but in answer to your question, Odd Shots is held every Monday - but your Sunday is our Monday in Australia.

Hope thaht makes sense!

Tanya Savko said...

I'm sure you've heard this a thousand times, but . . . have you written a book? I love the way you write!

Casdok said...

Yes you should write a book!

Katney said...

I love your blog and have added it to my favorites. You asked David about Odd Shots. It is every Monday--well, of course, when David does Monday it is Sunday ya know. Come join us sometime.

Wonderful World of Weiners said...

Too funny! Very clever and witty!

Hallie :)