  As is usual for out in the country, the internet has been down for a few days and my I-phone has served for emergency web surfing. Yes, there is such a thing as emergency web surfing. One must bare one’s soul on Facebook and email or life comes to a screeching halt! And yes, I do know the definition of addiction. But the I-Phone is no substitute for a laptop when it comes to blog work. And speaking of baring souls, I guess I’ll have to come clean and admit that I can really make a mess of things. Yep. I have done some really dumb things in my life, but I’ll have to say that last week proved that I can top even the dumbest things I’ve done. On Friday, my daughter and her husband asked us to babysit for our little 4 1/2 month old granddaughter so that they could go to a banquet. At 3 in the afternoon, I gathered supplies at their house, placed diaper bag and gear into my car and snapped the carseat, little granddaughter snugly harnessed, into the base which is in the back seat. I tossed my keys into the front driver’s seat to have both hands free and arranged everything to my satisfaction. Aiming to run around to the driver’s side, I slammed the back door shut, only to hear a sickening “click” as my car locked all of the doors with a, “See? Who’s in control NOW, sucker!!” I freaked. It was cool outside, but the sun was shining directly onto the back of my hatchback and so I knew that it was going to get warm really fast in the car. I ran up the steps of my daughter’s front porch and started pounding on the door to catch her before she got into the shower. Now, there is one thing that I have come to realize about grandmotherhood. Your grandchild isn’t your child and so there’s this feeling of extra, extra, extra responsibility that goes with the title of ‘grandparent’. I didn’t even think about the fact that my daughter might tell me that I’m an imbecile or that I shouldn’t even HAVE keys to a car in the first place. My only thought was focused on my poor little grandbaby locked in my child-eating car. It was at the moment my daughter opened the door and was quizically assessing my panicked face that I had the humbling feeling that I would definitely be dropping in my daughter’s admiration of my intelligence. I explained what had happened. Without a word, she was quickly on the phone with a locksmith. Well, did you know that locksmiths don’t unlock cars with babies in them? Something about liability. If they don’t get there on time, then they are liable. The locksmith told my daughter to call 911. Next, I heard her tell the situation to the 911 operator and as she hung up the phone, I could hear the wail of sirens in the distance. Pretty fast! A minute later, the biggest, shiniest, reddest fire truck roared into place in front of my daughter’s house (which is in a neighborhood of many, many nosy neighbors) and I would say that the entire fire department unloaded from the vehicle. I am thinking that they all wanted to see what the dumb, old broad looked like who would lock a precious baby in a car. Using a wedge and this thing that looked like a blood pressure checker, they pried the door of my nearly new car about 1/2″ apart and pushed a rod down to the locking mechanism to push on the unlock symbol. Click. Simple as that. My dear granddaughter, hair starting to mat against her head from sweat, was staring at her stuffed cow, blowing bubbles through her tiny lips and carrying on a conversation that only she could understand. When one of the firemen opened the back door, she grinned at him, face all lit up, as if to say, “You having fun too?!” He commented on what a happy baby she is and that she is awfully cute. We think so. I tried to pay him (he didn’t want a hug) but he said that this was just part of the job. Our heroes rode off in their bright red chariot as we waved them on. I am sure that the neighbors still wonder what that was all about. I have learned a new truth. The only people who can retrieve babies from locked cars are firemen. And firemen do it all the time because there are more idiots around than just me! Other people have automatic door locks too and their cars like to show them who’s boss too! I feel so much better. But I will never let my keys off of my person ever again!! Of course, cooking always strokes my wounded self-esteem and so I decided to do a little inventing to really make myself feel intelligent again. Mr. Fix-It had read about a rosemary-ginger seasoned salmon filet, grilled to perfection at some restaurant and as I could see his mouth watering as he tried to tell me about it, I decided that I might as well take a stab at my own version. I had a number of wild Alaskan salmon filets and so I thawed them and set to work throwing together a savory seasoning to rub onto the surfaces of the fish steaks. About a half an hour later, I had sampled a tiny taste of my mixture and decided it was perfect. It worked great as a rub and the charcoaled filets were perfection if I do say so myself! And Mr. Fix-It said they were too. He was a happy camper. This rub would work great on chicken as well. So if you would like to try something with a fresh and different flavor, here is the rub that I threw together. 3 Tbsp garlic powder 3 Tbsp any bottled garlic and herb mix (I used Frontier’s Garlic and Herb) 3 Tbsp paprika 3 Tbsp dried onion flakes 3 Tbsp dried rosemary 2 Tbsp ground ginger 3 Tbsp sugar 2 Tbsp salt Process first 6 ingredients in the blender until a powder. Add salt and sugar and mix thoroughly. Place in airtight container. Use as rub on fish or chicken, coating both sides, and charcoal.  Ginger and Rosemary make this rub taste so unique  Grinding all of the ingredients, except for the salt and sugar which are added after grinding, makes a uniform rub that can be easily sprinkled and rubbed into the meat.  |
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