Dinner Guest #52 - The T. Family

Sunday, January 6, 2013

This past week, I read an incredible book called Born To Run.  Author Christopher McDougall tells an interesting tale of the Tarahumara Indians of Mexico and their amazing, long distance running skills.  A sportswriter, McDougall also talks about popular American ultrarunners and what happens when these two groups race. 

I’m not a runner.  I have running shoes, running attire, and a nice set of white ear buds that attach to my iPod in the event I decide to run.  I’m a wannabe.  Born to Run made me wish I had an ultrarunner’s talent and determination.

This Sunday, we had an ultrarunner for dinner:  Mr. T., his wife, Mrs. T and their four boys.  The T. family boys range in age from 5 to 18, so I wasn’t quite sure how to entertain them.  I papered the dining table and put out markers and pens for doodling, but to my surprise, the boys were much more entertained with Kate’s old Disney princess dress ups.   I’m still kicking myself for not having taken a picture of their 11-year old boy squeezed into a pink Sleeping beauty dress, gold satin gloves, pink heeled shoes, and “Space Specs.”  It was nice to see those dusty old dressed used again.  I was just about to pass them along to a younger family with little girls.

Not knowing what a family of four growing boys would consume, I probably overcooked a bit.  I served Swiss Chicken, sweet potato casserole, corn pudding, spinach salad, parmesan rolls, and carrots & dip.  Mrs. T. brought a delicious chocolate pudding dessert made with a nut crust on bottom and layers of cream cheese, chocolate pudding, and whipped cream with chocolate shavings on top.

With Born to Run on my brain, I peppered Mr. T. about ultrarunners.  He was familiar with the book and participated in the Leadville Trail 100 a few years ago.  I appreciated his tolerance to all my ignorant questions.  Given Mr. T's experienced opinion, I have now reconsidered running barefoot like the Tarahumara Indians do.

At dinner, we learned that we have more in common with Mr. and Mrs. T. than we realized.  Mr. T. and I grew up not far from each other in suburbs of Washington, D.C., we all attended BYU (except for Ryan, of course), and Ryan and Mr. T. are both small business owners in different medical fields.

When it was time to leave, we took our traditional picture on the stairs with the T. Family.  I admit I felt a certain excitement and relief knowing I had completed my 52 Friends for Dinner project.  It’s because of wonderful people like the T. Family that I wish I had the energy and financial resources to keep going.

But I don’t.

It’s time to put the pots and pans away and take on another project.

Maybe I’ll start running….

Dinner Guest #51 - The Elders

Sunday, December 30, 2012

I’m getting older. 

I suppose I thought I was immune.  While I feel 28 on the inside, I look in the mirror and see a tired, 41 year old mamma.  My age really revealed itself to me when I caught myself viewing our dinner guests through a mother’s eyes.

This Sunday we fed two missionaries from our church:  Elder Fugate and Elder Kredt.  With Christmas only five days previous, our topics of conversation were gifts and holiday celebrations.  LDS missionaries are only able to speak to their families two days a year, Christmas and Mother’s Day, so we asked about their phone calls on Christmas day.  As the Elders shared stories about their parents and siblings, of Christmas packages filled with socks and ties, I realized,  

“These boys are someone’s sons.  They are missed.  Their families pray for them daily and their mothers worry about them.”

For dinner I made creamy chicken noodle soup, parmesan rolls, and a spinach salad with apples, beets, dried cranberries and balsamic dressing.  I attempted a new pumpkin praline dessert with vanilla ice cream from a popular cake mix website.  The pumpkinish cobbler didn’t turn out how I expected, but it was edible.  I scraped the leftovers into the trash can later that night.  Rock only ate rolls, as usual.  Jesus said that "man shall not live by bread alone," but Rock seems to be challenging that principle.  Elder Fugate barely ate anything because he was sick with a chest cold. 

Before the Elders left, they shared a spiritual thought with us.  It was simple and perfect for the short attention spans of our children.  Each Elder talked about the importance of reading the scriptures and the promises that Heavenly Father makes to us if we read them.

As they left, I gave Elder Fugate some Mucinex DM and told him of my home remedy tips with Vicks Vapo-rub.  That’s how I know I’m getting older.  For the first time in my life, I caught myself mothering someone.

God couldn’t be everywhere, so he created mothers. – Jewish Proverb

Dinner Guest #50 - The Turley Family

The worst house guest of all time, hands down, is Cousin Eddie from Christmas Vacation.  A few days before Christmas, Eddie, his wife, and two kids arrive uninvited to Clark Griswold’s (Chevy Chase) home in a beat-up RV, unleashing their trash-eating Rottweiler, and emptying sewage into the storm drain in the front yard. 

This Christmas, we spent a few days in Utah with my sister Kathryn, her husband Trey, and their three boys.  We didn’t pull up to their home in a hideous RV, or smoke cigars in their front yard wearing a robe, snow boots, and furry hunting hat, however, it seemed like we committed every other annoying house guest faux pas:

• One day into the visit, Jack and Rock came down with Strep Throat, exposing everyone to their fevers and coughing.
• Jack refused to take his cold medicine in the middle of the night and swatted the cherry red Nyquil syrup onto the borrowed sheets and air mattress.
• Jack threw up a melted orange cough drop and other mucus onto the recently ironed, white, guest room duvet and sheets.
• Kate happily played outside in the snow and tracked her muddy, wet boots through the kitchen, down the carpeted stairs and into the basement.
• Rock had a random, massive bloody nose which dripped onto the living room carpet.

At least I was allowed to redeem ourselves somewhat by making Sunday dinner.  With no help from any cookbook, for the first time, I made Sunday dinner from memory.  I cooked Heavenly Chicken over Brazilian Rice, roasted green beans, roasted sweet potatoes with a honey/lemon glaze, parmesan rolls, and spinach salad.  For dessert, I baked a pre-made apple crisp in the oven and served it with vanilla ice cream. 

All the kids ate at the kitchen table while the parents gathered around the couch in the family room.  This Sunday dinner was unique because I was relaxed.  I didn’t have to be “ON.”  I didn’t feel any pressure to make polite conversation and ask those introductory questions like, “How did you two meet?”

I know how my sister met her husband.  I can tell that story myself.  I was at their wedding twenty two years ago.

While Kathryn and Trey could have reasonably asked us to leave with our sick, contagious children and our propensity to stain their carpets, instead, they brought out more blankets, checked the boys’ fevers, pumped up an extra air mattress, and even parked our rental car in their garage to keep the snow off. 

Christmas morning, Ryan and I scolded, begged, chided, and angrily whispered to our children to keep away from the presents Santa had brought the still-sleeping Turley family.  Tiptoeing through their quiet home, we gathered our kids into the rental car and boarded an airplane back to Las Vegas.  Around one in the afternoon, Kate, Jack, and Rock ran through our front door to see if Santa had visited our home too.  He did.

Later that night, Kathryn left a kind message on my phone, checking in with me to see how our Christmas turned out.  I was shocked to hear,

“Come back again… soon.”

Just love her.

Dinner Guest #49 - The W. Family

In December 2011, we boarded “The Santa Train” in Boulder City, Nevada with our friends the W. family.  During the short ride through the desert, Mr. and Mrs. Claus walked through the train cars, chatted with the passengers, and posed for photographs.  Afterward, we went to lunch with the W. family where we discussed, among many things, my blog idea for 2012:  52 Friends for Dinner.

“Just as long as I get to play the part of myself in the movie…” smiled Mr. W.

I love his optimism.

About five years ago, I was introduced to Mrs. W. by a mutual friend.  Mr. and Mrs. W. and I attended the same college (BYU) at the same time, but never crossed paths until they moved about a 30-minute drive from us.  We get together a few times a year for fun events like minor-league baseball games, pool parties, the circus, and other attractions around town.

For dinner I served Swiss Chicken, sweet potato casserole, corn pudding, parmesan rolls, carrots with dip, and a green salad with balsamic vinaigrette.  I could casually state that the W. family brought dessert, but this was no simple plate of cookies.  The W. family walked into our home with an ice cream machine, a homemade peppermint chocolate cake covered in a glass-domed cake plate, and a large cooler enclosing a chilled ice cream bowl.  During dinner, the machine hummed away as the batter churned and thickened into creamy vanilla ice cream.

When dinner guests arrive, I am often asked,

“How can I help?”

Mr. W. always says,

“Put me to work!”

Mr. and Mrs. W. come from large families.  You can tell they have been taught to pitch in and help out.  Plus, when they help, it truly is helpful.  I don’t have to stand by and smile as I cringe watching my pots and pans get put away slightly rinsed, but still dirty.  The dish washing machine was running with a full load BEFORE we even ate dessert.

Whenever we get together with the W. family, I always wish they lived closer.  While we’re only about 28 miles from their home, for two busy families with young children and busy lives, it seems like another state.  If ever some half-crazed movie producer decides to turn my year of dinner guests into a movie, Mr. W. will be the first one I will call to say,               

“You’re goin’ to Hollywood!”