After countless phone calls, two trips to the ER, consultations with various nurse-friends and non-nurse-friends, and a hike across town to another doctor, we are totally exhausted. So tonight, instead of going to my book club, I decided to stay home in favor of an evening of dish washing, bath taking, sibling wrestling, fireside relaxing, and book reading. The activities—both the chaotic and drudge, the relaxing and fun—are blessedly, thankfully, normal.

Slowly, slowly, sloooowly I’m coming down from the cliff that mothers shoot up when doctors say things like “leaking fluid from the central nervous system” and “CAT scan” and “meningitis” and “hairline fractures.” Gradually, my insides are relaxing, my speech is slowing.

I still feel my little boy’s (‘cause it’s my little boy that took us for this spin around Wild Worry Town) forehead about six times every hour, and I continually make him turn his head to the light so I can check in his ear for leaking fluids, but he’s shaking off that horrible lethargy that made me so sick with nerves and he’s picking up speed, so it’s kind of hard to catch him long enough to lay hands on him anymore.

In other words, he’s much, much better.

What happened was this: my husband was digging a hole with a bar and the little boy was “helping” with the shovel and the shovel got in the hole and the bar came down on it and—WHAM!—the handle of the shovel leaped up and smacked the little boy upside the head, right behind his left ear and along the jaw line. He cried an awful lot.

At lunch (this was on Saturday), he didn’t want to eat. He said his tooth hurt, but he was pointing to the opposite side that got hit and everyone was fussing about the food, so I just chalked the complaint up to whiny-ness and made him eat it.

It wasn’t till supper that something he said made me check in his mouth. There was blood mixed in with his scrambled eggs and the back quadrant of his molar was split down to the gum, just like a log of wood when someone takes an ax to it but doesn’t make it the whole way through.

Our doctor said we should go to the ER, so my husband took him. The ER doctor breezed in and out, never even seeing the break. (I know this, because I called the ER the next morning to have them read me the records.)

That night, the shovel-whacked kid developed a fever and intense pain in the left ear. Medicine three different times, hot water bottles twice, and still he cried. During church (yes, I took him, socallmecrazy—I figured he was injured, not sick, and I like going to church), I noticed there was water in his ear. After Sunday school I corralled a nurse and riddled her plum-full of questions. Other people weighed in. Sick kid—I mean, injured kid—just laid there, playing the part of Pathetic to the hilt.

So back to the ER my husband went. After four more hours, a CAT scan, and lots of waiting while the doctor consulted with other doctors, they came home. We were to be on the alert for a spiking fever, so I was up for a couple hours last night with a feverish boy (103 degrees, which is not considered “spiking” in our hot-blooded family) and my runaway imagination.

Today’s ENT doctor decided we ought to treat it as an ear infection, which it is. How he got it, we can’t be sure—the slight cold he had? the trauma from the blow?—but in 24 hours I expect him to be as right as the rain that is falling this very minute.

There’s still that pesky broken tooth to take care of. So tomorrow we’re off to see the dentist, wheee!

This same time, years previous: the morning after

This morning I chopped up Oreo cookies and stirred them into a cookie dough.

I’m not sure what came over me. It was odd. (And not worth repeating.)

I also made homemade Twix bars. (!!!!!) (“!!!!!” means “totally worth repeating.)

The recipe called for Club crackers—a (practically) never purchased junk food—so this, also, was odd.

Normally, cooking with processed food does not rock my boat, but today it did. Perhaps because of the coconut pudding a la Elmer Fudd. (Who is Elmer Fudd anyway? Does he have anything to do with pasty hasty-posting puddings?)

Or perhaps it’s because the natives have taken up squatting in the back forty.

Perhaps it’s because the combination of digging a hole and getting shot with my phallic telephoto lens makes my husband get all frisky-weird. (Yikes. That came out sounding way worse than I intended.)

Perhaps it’s because of the super-high winds that are whipping through our valley, relocating the clubhouse window to the orchard and making our dog’s ears stand on end.

But most likely it’s because I’m feeling guilty about ordering you out to the kitchen to cook up that nice pot of glue-disguised-as-coconut pudding. I need to win you back. The pressure is on, the bar has lowered, and I’m getting all sorts of sleazy, skirt-hiking slutty.

Peanut butter! Waggles some fire-engine red-painted toes.

Chocolate! A flash of slender, fine-turned ankle.

Crispy, buttery crackers! Hike that skirt a leeetle higher and—whoa!—check out that curving, muscular, smoooooth calf!

Caramel! What sumptuous, dimpled thigh, oo-la-la!

But—the skirt falls—that’s it. This is all you’re getting. Even I have limits.

There’s not much to say about these Twix bars except this:

*They taste like Twix bars.
*The caramel part is my favorite.
*I’m also really fond of the peanut butter-chocolate topping.
*They are addictive.
*If you have any problems with self-control, you probably shouldn’t make them.
*If you don’t have problems with self-control, you still probably shouldn’t make them because once you do you will have problems with that self-control that you now no longer have.
*You should make them.

(Please note: my husband gave me the go-ahead to post about these.)

Homemade Twix Bars
Adapted from Hoosier Homemade

48 club crackers (about 1 1/3 sleeves)
2/3 cup peanut butter
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
½ cup butter
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup white sugar
1/3 cup milk
1 cup graham cracker crumbs

Lay 24 crackers in the bottom of a 9 x 13 baking dish.

In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, combine the butter, sugars, milk, and graham cracker crumbs. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat a bit, and cook for about five minutes, stirring steadily. Pour the caramel over the crackers and immediately lay the remaining crackers on the hot caramel, pressing down a little so they stick together. Chill the pan in the fridge for 30 minutes.

Combine the chocolate chips and peanut butter in a glass bowl and microwave, stirring frequently, till the chips have melted. Spread the chocolate on the top and chill until it sets up.

Cut into bars and store in the refrigerator.

This same time, years previous: dulce de leche coffee, blueberry-cornmeal muffins

Next day confession/update/warning: my husband doesn’t like this pudding and doesn’t understand why I do.

“It’s so starchy,” he said. “I can’t believe you like it.”

“People are going to be so upset. They expect you to have a discerning palate and then you go and give them glue. They’re never going to trust you again.”

“It just goes to show what an integral part of the process I am. You shouldn’t ever post without having me taste the food first.”

“Ha! I know what it tastes like! PASTE!” Hahahahaha! “I’m gonna call you Elmer’s from now on.” Hardy-har-har.

“But the texture is really good.”

In my defense (can I even HAVE a defense after such a brutal raking over the coals?), I like glue. So maybe there is a little too much thickener. Maybe it does need an egg (but then I’ll loose the gorgeous, glorious whiteness), maybe, maybe, maybe…

If only I had another can of coconut milk in my pantry, I could try another round. One thing I do know, I’ll have my husband taste it before I post about it. Pinky promise.

Please, please, please tell me you have a 13.5 ounce can of coconut milk in your pantry! Wha—? You’re not sure? Well, go check then! I’ll wait.

(I’m waiting, waiting, waiting…)

You do? Yay! Now real quick, scroll down through this post till you get to the recipe (which is for coconut pudding, if you must know) and make it right now. Once the pudding is chilling in the fridge, come back and finish reading.

Back so soon? Of course you are! It’s such an easy pudding, no?

Alright, for the rest of the post now…

Every single person really must have this pudding in her (or his) life. Especially during February, the dreariest time of the year (except for today, which oddly enough is 70 degrees and giddy-gorgeous), ought we have a sweet taste of the tropical. It’s good for the sun-deprived soul.

Of course, if you’re feeling desperate enough you could skip the pudding all together and just sniff suntan lotion. But I think eating is more fun than sniffing, so I’m digging the pudding.

At first, though, I wasn’t too sure. In fact, after my first few tastes, I was convinced it was headed for the chicken pen. It had a pasty-starchy texture, as though the thickener hadn’t really cooked into the pudding. But, I learned, that weird taste was because the pudding was still warm. Once it was chilled, all traces of starchiness completely dissipated, leaving behind billowy mouthful upon billowy mouthful of stunningly silky-smooth pudding.

The smoothness of this pudding can not be expounded upon enough. It’s like satin. Like silk. Glossy and slick, lustrous and sultry.

It’s dazzlingly white, too. Shockingly so (kind of like my legs in February [and May and August and October, etc]). The absence of any color makes me realize how unusual it is to eat white white food. In this pudding there is no golden egg yolk or yellow butter to warmify the colors, nothing whatsoever to mar the brilliant purity.

When topped with some whipped cream, it’s white-on-white, in all the classy, right ways.

Coconut Pudding
(Not much) adapted from Kare of The Hazel Bloom

I can think of all sorts of fun ways to play with this recipe. What about using coconut cream in place of the whipping cream in the recipe and/or using it to sweeten the whipped cream topping? Or how about using milk in place of the water? Or coconut water? Or what about using some rum as flavoring? For topping, perhaps you could sprinkle on some toasted coconut and pecans, almonds, or macadamias? And think of the fruity possibilities! Pineapple! Mango! Kiwi! Lime!

1 ½ cups water, divided
½ cup cornstarch (I used ½ cup therm flo, minus 2 tablespoons)
1 13.5-ounce can coconut milk
½ cup sugar
½ cup heavy whipping cream
½ teaspoon coconut extract
sweetened whipped cream, for topping, optional

In a small bowl, whisk together 1 cup of water with the cornstarch. Set aside.

In a heavy-bottomed kettle, stir together the remaining ½ cup of water, the sugar, whipping cream, and coconut milk. Bring it to a boil and slowly add the cornstarch water, whisking steadily. Cook till bubbly and thick (with the therm flo, this happened immediately and then it began to splutter all over the place), and remove from the heat. Stir in the extract.

Pour the pudding into a bowl and cover with a piece of wax paper (to prevent a skin from forming) and cool to room temperature before covering the whole thing with some plastic wrap and transferring it to the refrigerator to chill the rest of the way.

To serve, spoon the pudding into little dishes and top with sweetened whipped cream.

This same time, years previous: an open letter to Isaiah (yes, the prophet dude), I don’t feel much like writing