Corn Dogs

Mom has several favorite dishes that she has gathered over the years. Near the top is Corn Dogs. Here she is in our little galley. Pan on the stove is heating the oil to the correct temp.

Here is the first ono bee-ut- if-ull dog

She made enough for the three of us. Yum. (Her shiner is barely visible)

Here is the recipe. Mom lost the recipe but Meg had it and sent it.  

Crispy Corn Dogs

1 C      Flour

3/4 C   Yellow Corn meal

3 Tbsp Sugar

1 Tbsp Dry mustard

2 tsp    Baking powder

1 tsp    Salt

1 C      Milk

1          Egg, slightly beaten

2 Tbsp            Shortening, melted

12         hotdogs

12        sticks

Wesson vegetable oil, for frying (needs to be at least 2” deep)

Combine first six ingredients.  Add milk, egg and shortening.  Mix until smooth.  Pour mixture into a tall glass (Tupperware use to make a real good one with nice straight sides and not very wide across).  Put hot dogs on sticks.  Popsicle sticks work well but you have to remember to save them up when you are have ice cream.

            Dip hot dogs, one at a time, in cornmeal batter.  Fry until golden brown in oil heated to 375 degrees.  This is important.  Use a thermometer to help you keep the temperature at 375.  Drain on paper. Makes 12. 

First Shiner

Previously on The Auswanderers Blog we said there wasn't any real mark left from the fall. Just one minute Junior Prognosticator! Yesterday afternoon, Mom's eye lid, below the forehead that she had used to try to crack the concrete, started to show a thin dark purple line. Wait for it. Wait for it. This morning there was no denying it. Mom had her first genuine shiner. That's right, in her whole life she never had a black eye.

The only treatment for a shiner that we knew of is the one we see in films--a steak on the eye. So I went to our local Walgreen and asked the Pharmacist.  He said steak is good because it's cold. A cold pack, while not as romantic would work equality well. Do any of you know of another remedy?

Two days after the incident, the rest of Mom's body is beginning to report their part in the fall. Her right shoulder and hip are sore. And her right wrist shown here shows an abrasion. Her Mary Kaye Purple eye lid doesn't hurt, but her head throbs a little.

We'll keep you posted if there are any significant changes. Mom is wondering what she's going to tell the ladies at church tomorrow. The real story sounds so improbable. Any suggestions?

A surprise Rexburg medical adventure

I was going to title this post "911," but as it has turned out, that would have been alarmist.

The morning after, it's hard to see the bruise over her right eye. Here's the story. Mom had her one week follow-up eye exam with the optometrist. We had parked in the little parking lot and Mom and Lily had started for the office door. (Lily had asked to go because she suspects that going with Gramma and Papa will involve snack.) Becca and I were closing up the car when Lily called "Gramma fell down!". I turned around and there was Mom spread-eagle, face-down on the sidewalk. I ran over to her. She was conscious and not bleeding. That was the good news. When her shoes had caught a rise in the sidewalk, she went down right on her forehead. Her cane was of no help and Lily had been walking ahead of her, so she was unable to help. When I got to her and heard the story, I called 911. Becca, Lily and I stayed by her. She was able to sit up after a couple of minutes. A crowd gathered  including folks from the eye clinic. Mom was worried about being late for her appointment. The secretary assured her that the appointment could be changed. When the paramedic ambulance rolled up, Becca had the best comment of the day:  "Here comes the heroes!" Then out to the rig jumped three what Becca calls "hunky guys". They were all young and big and seemed enthusiastic about practicing their skills on a real patient. They attached their portable gear to check her vitals. They asked questions to see if Mom was "loopy" from a concussion. (She wasn't unusually loopy.) One guy said to Mom, "I need to put the blood pressure collar on your left arm". He then proceeded to put it on her right arm. Mom said, "That's my right arm. Or was that part of the test" A little accident humor. Decision 1 was that Mom need not be taken to the hospital. Decision 2 was that Mom was going ahead with her eye exam. Two of the Hunky heroes lifted Mom (like a feather) into their emergency wheel chair and drove her into the clinic. Before they left, the Head Hero advised me to keep a lookout for "loopy"(that was his word--not making that up) behavior. I resisted making a wise crack and promised I would.

The eye doc did a complete exam and pronounced "no damage". Last night she slept well and this morning you can hardly see the bruise, not even a shiner. She feels a little sore in a few places, but nothing serious, so my hard-headed woman seems to have survived her surprise Rexburg medical adventure.

Rainbow Lake RV Park

This is the RV Park we used when we first brought Bigfoot to Rexburg to visit Amanda's family in 2005.  It is a modest country park and really the only decent choice in this area. So every year when we visit, we stop here. It is also very unique. We have stopped in RV Parks in most of the 48 contiguous states, some high end, some not so much, but Rainbow is the only one in which RVers check themselves in. 

Here is the nice (new) sign that greets you at the entrance

Then you drive in toward what appears to be the office. But no one is ever in.

That's right. There is an array of do-it-yourself instructions posted on the wall. 

Now it is not unusual for RV Parks to have after-hours check-in instructions. But in the morning, late arrivals need to come back to the office to finalize the process. But at Rainbow, there is never anyone in the office. You can see the little mail slot where you deposit your check, written in the amount that campers calculate based on the wall directions. 

Mom got a chuckle over the little sign that says "strictly enforced". Unlike many parks with "rangers", Rainbow Lake has no one visible to enforce anything. Now let me be quick to say a couple of things. The owners/managers of the park live at the rear of the property. And there is a phone number to call if the instructions aren't enough. From time to time someone is collecting the checks from the little bldg. I know this because my checks are always cashed.

Here is the lake that goes with the name. It is a very pleasant location and we are impressed by the trust the owners are extending to the campers. Their system takes advantage of the honesty that we have seen demonstrated by RVers. These folks, in our experience, are friendly and trustworthy.

Another angle of the lake. In the distance is Highway 20, which runs between Rexburg south to Rigby and Idaho Falls, and north to Yellowstone Park.

At the far end of this shot is the owners' home

Here we are today. Unpaved sites are not quite level, but OK. But when it rains, our tires often sit in 6 inches of mud.

But it's dry now and we have full hookups (meaning nice cool AC, and microwave convenience)

Tomorrow we pull the chocks here and move to Amanda's driveway in Rigby  for a few days where we can spend grandchildren time.

Fifteen Pounds of Perfection

For the past few weeks, as we have been visiting in Rigby, I've had the opportunity of helping out with Macy, although for a four month old she is very low maintenance. I have been once again amazed at the miracle of an infant.

In the morning when she wakes, not by crying but by making just enough noise to get our attention, we lift her off of her tummy and place her on her back on the changing table. It has fallen to me on those occasions to unravel the mystery of her "onezy" and proceed with the diaper duty. Once released from her night garment, Macy's legs rejoice in their freedom and they kick with vigor. Her chubby feet have excellent tiny toes which she curls and stretches in infant exercise.

Next comes the diaper, always sopping and sometimes full of her processed formula. Her attentive sisters, Emma (8) and Lily (5), stand near the changing table sharing helpful comments, like, "My Mom doesn't do it like that," and "Look! It's green!"

Macy is very patient at my amateur efforts. Her diaper wipes are cold to her warm tush and she flinches a little, but doesn't cry. One sister observes, "My Mom doesn't use so many wipes". I explain I'm trying to clean in the many folds and wrinkles where the poop has hidden.

Then comes the new paper diaper. I cleverly observed how the old one had been attached to her tiny rump. So, with a minimum of tries the new one is on! Macy and I share a quick look of triumph. Maybe hers is one of relief. One of the sisters bring a new onezy. I groan. But the three of us team up to corral the runaway legs. She smiles at us. Her smile is dazzling

It's time to pick her up and move onto the next phase--the breakfast bottle. She's on formula and Emma knows the recipe. I asked Amanda the other day when she will start with pablum. "What's that?" she asks? Apparently pablum is a word remembered by only old folk. 

Macy settles into my arm and takes the bottle, grateful for the nourishment. Her beautiful tapered fingers delicately touch my hand as I hold her bottle. Her clear eyes, still deciding on their permanent color, look into mine and then around the room, tracking without flaw.  She is calm, which is one of her strong characteristics, warm and soft. After downing 6 oz she sits up and produces a belch worthy of a trucker. Carson laughs in approval.

For a while she plays with her toys and watches the antics of her sisters and brother. They swoop in with baby sounds and a kiss. Macy smiles and kicks. She is happy to be in this family where she knows she is welcome.

Later comes another bottle and a nap and the cycle of her young life continues. Physically, emotionally and spiritually Macy appears to be perfect. At this point she is fifteen pounds of perfection. What a blessing it has been to be able to share this moment with her.