A Raisin in The Sun

Did you read that book/play in high school?  I did, although I only vaguely remember the plot.  Something about an African American family trying to move out of their apartment and into a house to start a better life.  Or something.  I dunno.  High school was a long time ago.

You know what else was a long time ago?  The last time we got any substantial rain.  Seriously, it's been weeks.  Everything around here is brown and yucky, which is sad because Summer is my favorite time of year in Indiana because it's usually so lush and verdant. 

And talk about HOT.  So very hot.  So hot that I can't in good conscience send my kids outside to play for any length of time.  We're getting some major cabin fever around here, people.

And I think the cabin fever may be one of the reasons I have felt so out of sorts lately.  I just don't know what to do with myself.  Oh, I have a million and one things to do, I just don't want to do any of them.  Or anything.  I get distracted by little things and lose my train of thought to random tangents... okay, so not that unusual from my normal life.  But it's more so now.

My brain feels like a raisin.  A raisin in the sun.  The hot, unrelenting sun.

Take, for example, my obsession this morning with raisin-filled cookies.  I saw this post online about them and could not get them out of my head.  They just sounded SO good to me!

But the last thing we need around here are cookies.  And the last way I needed to spend my time was making cookies.

So I tried to get the cookies out of my brain and took the boys on a little field trip instead.

Today we headed to the local fire station.  The firemen were really great at giving us a tour, especially because they didn't know we were coming.  (Apparently the fireman I spoke to forgot to write it down on the calendar. Oops.)

But before we get to the tour, I must show you a picture of the giant and rather menacing bug that kept buzzing around our heads as we got out of the car.  Dad, what is that?  Yellow jacket?  Wasp? Demon imp of insect satan?  It was big and had a rather large, distinctly pointy stinger.

Anywho.  The tour.  The three firemen who were there were so nice and friendly!  I think they were a bit bored today and so were only too happy to give an impromptu tour to a few moms and their crazy but cute children.  They drove the firetruck out and let the kids each have a turn sitting at the wheel.

Spencer and Josh were quite excited about this.

So was my friend (and awesome visiting teaching companion!) Amanda!

But Cole wasn't.  Nope, he wanted to be a punk, as per usual.  The firemen got a kick out of him, though, because all he would ever say and/or yell was "NO!".  I explained that Mr. Cole's middle name is Robert, which is after Lance's grandfather Robert Madsen, a.k.a. Grandpa Red.  We should have thought more about this before naming Cole, because before Grandpa Red became a very respected fireman down in L.A., he was a bit of a hellion.  (So much so that during WWII he joined the merchant marines while he was still underage, and even though everyone in town knew about it and knew he was underage, they happily let him enlist!)  I guess Cole is just living up to his namesake.

See?!?  Tangents!!

Anyway, we really enjoyed the tour and it was a nice way to pass the morning.  At the end the firemen even took a picture of all of us. 

Then they jokingly said that their fee would have to be paid in cookies, which totally brought the raisin-filled cookies back to mind.  Great Ceasar's Ghost, I wanted some!

As we got in the minivan to go home Cole finally decided to put his fire hat on.  Nice one, drunken Cole.

And just as I knew he would, when we got home all he could talk about was the fire station and the firemen, even though he acted so naughty and as if he didn't care during the entire tour.  And then there was a cartoon with a fire truck on it and he just HAD to wear his hat while he watched it.  It was pretty dang cute.

By this point I still really wanted those cookies.  But I decided to find some other things to do instead in order to occupy my mind with something else.  I cleaned the kitchen and worked on some stuff for our big trip.  I tidied up rooms and then watched in dismay as Cole untidied them for me.   I practiced the piano until Cole decided it was duet time.  I cleaned fingerprints off of walls and appliances.

But I still wanted those cookies.

So then I decided to make the bleach-designed t-shirt I had been wanting to make for a while.

I think it turned out pretty well.  This t-shirt had been bugging me because it was so plain.  I tried wearing cute felt flower pins with it, but Tess kept pulling them off.  So this was my solution to spiffy it up.

People, I BLEACHED A T-SHIRT and and I STILL WANTED THOSE COOKIES!!!

So I decided to give in and just make the blasted things.

I blame my cousin, Jen, of the famous Jen's Favorite Cookies, because that woman is always making cookies and always making me want to make cookies.  I swear I was channeling her a little bit as I got to work.  I may have even craved a Diet Dr. Pepper... 

The cookies took a while to make, so I worked on other stuff around the house.  I also had a pretty decent conversation with Tess.

Finally, the blessed things were done!  And they were huge!

Tess was also impressed with their size.

Boy, were they good.  Soft and spongey, not too sweet.  All that I had been dreaming about all day.  I only wish I had been a little more generous with the filling, but that's not a big deal.

So the lesson for the day?  When you're feeling out of sorts and cabin bound, just make the dang raisin-filled cookies.  You'll be glad you did.