the bread. Salami, prosciutto, sun-dried tomatoes, provolone cheese, sliced roasted red peppers, shredded basil leaves, and artichoke hearts are then added. You put the focaccia lid on this and put it in the fridge with a brick on top so the flavors will meld overnight. We had to go out to wife’s herb garden with a flashlight for the basil leaves and we found some bricks out by the garden shed.Saturday I finished spreading the pile of mulch around our gardens, mowed Abby’s lawn, and mowed our lawn. We went to Tristan’s T-ball game which was a nail biter and, as always, comical. A kid will hit a grounder and if no one stops it (usual case scenario), the whole team will clear the field to run after the ball and there ends up being a mess of piled up kids trying to grab the ball. That’s when the T-ball game looks more like a football game.
After the game we all met at the Middletown Manor for the overnight brick sandwich dinner. They were better than I imagined them to be. After the meal Ben called about four children, the oldest being eight, and left alone by their mother that morning. The eight year old called 911. He thought someone was breaking in. Ben took the call. Ben and other officers kept the children occupied while waiting for Child Protective Services to come and get the children. Ben later found and arrested the mother for child endangerment.
I was lying on the porch couch Sunday reading the newspaper and lasting only a few paragraphs, my eyes fell closed. I rose to half sleep with the rumble of thunder and the rich smell of rain breezing in through the porch screens which sent me to a deeper sleep, my tired bones momentarily retired from cares. I woke over an hour later, the sky scrubbed clean, a light rain still falling, on fire in the sun. I thought of those four children and prayed for them.
James Taylor "Fire and Rain"
Makes you wonder, what was so important that the Mother had to go and leave the children alone and with the oldest only 8. I can only hope this was a one time thing, because the children will be so upset to be away from their Mother. And where was or is the Father? Those children probably don't know any other way of life. So sad.
ReplyDeleteSince I can no longer smell, I miss smelling the rain in the air when it's getting ready to rain. I miss smelling the damp fields as the farmers plow. I miss smelling a baby freshly powdered after a bath. I miss the smell of after shave on a man. I miss all the smells you smell when arriving at a county farm. I miss smelling bread baking in the oven. Everything smells the same to me, there is no smell, I don't know how to describe it. I think it's from all the years I doctored for allergies and used nose sprays the doctors prescribed. I've been to a nose and throat specialist and they can't find what could be causing it. My family doctor who just turned 50, said, well as a person gets older, they sometimes lose their sense of smell. I told hi that might be, but at the time, I wasn't that old. And my Mother can still smell things just fine. I also burn items while cooking, unless I stay right there in the kitchen. Does make it bad, if something gets hot in the house, I don't smell it.
Okay. Those look like the best sandwiches ever. I've got to make them! I'm leaving with drool cup firmly attached...
ReplyDeleteA very atmospheric post, I'm deffo going to try the sandwich idea.
ReplyDeleteThose "sammies" look great. I hate to say, but my Dad use to leave me in charge of my younger bro's (I was six or seven, so they were five or six, four or five) while he picked up Mom from the library (her Sat. vocation) and once Ned fell from the stove reaching for the calamine (sp?) lotion for my chicken pox....he broke his arm. But, it was only for 10 fiften minutes max. I guess a lot can happen in a short time. I do feel sorry for those kids as I understand the Mom probably could not afford a babysitter ...or was a crack head...
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