Notes from the Birdhouse – Buckle-up Buttercup it is Going to Get Ruff

Oh my gosh, I must be dying.  I found paired up socks in the laundry, my paired up personal socks in the laundry room.  You may not think this is a big deal but let me tell you IT IS A BIG DEAL, especially today.

It all started yesterday.  I cooked the best fried catfish ever.  I accompanied it with crock pot white beans that had simmered all day long, hush puppy corn bread (like hush puppies but shaped like square cornbread).  I think the secret to a most awesome tasting catfish was the garlic olive oil I had made days earlier.  Oh my goodness, the aroma was divine.  I had never made infused oil before and had no recipe I just had a thought.  (that may be my famous last words)  I only put one clove of mashed garlic in, sat it on the counter by stove and in four or five days it produced something out of this world.

The next day I decided I wanted all my girls (BFF’s) to have this too.  I thought why stop with garlic oil?  I will send a set of three oils.  I found awesome little empty wine bottles and cute little tops that would be perfect for giving.   I jumped on the internet to see what would go into an Italian infused cooking oil.  And that is when one of the worst days of my life started.  Spread across the screen in big bold letters were the words: NEVER, NEVER TRY TO INFUSE OIL WITH FRESH GARLIC, N-E-V-E-R!

Wha?? But it taste so fringing good and so easy to do.  I read further to find out why..why could I not do it?  Instantly after reading the article,  my head starts pounding, my stomach is churning,  I break out in a cold sweet,  nausea digs its heels in; I am certain I am going to  become a vegetable with a droopy eye, slurred speech, and paralyzed possibly on a ventilator.  To put it mildly,  I WAS FREAKING OUT.  I called our local doc.  ANSWER MACHINE.  I called my son at ST Jude Hospital in Memphis.  I tell him to ask a doctor about it.  He says, “Mom you will be okay.  I got to go back to work.”  I called Husband….silence. I started  SCREAMING.  It turns out he accidentally hit mute.  He gets back on and says, “You are okay just relax.”  Nothing they could say would console me. NOTHING. The dang site said N-E-V-E-R.

You see, garlic is of course from the earth.  All earth grown food has the capacity to give you botulism if not washed, stored, and prepare correctly.  Also, botulism grows at an outstanding rate when no oxygen is available.
1)Oil and air don’t mix.
2)There is no air in oil.
3) NO AIR IN OIL

A colossal breeding ground for  the bacterium Clostridium botulinum.  ARRRFFF!  It said it multiplies faster when left out of the refrigerator.  It had been 4 or 5 days sitting beside the STOVE.  OMG I am going to die.

WAIT! Everyone ate the fish!  I HAVE KILLED MY WHOLE FAMILY!  OMGosh.  I got all weak inside.  I felt a fainting coming on.

When will our inevitable death from mommy’s garlic concoction kill us all?, I asked myself.  Symptoms could start as quick as 6 hours or take as long as 96.   Oh great, that is just frigin’ great, a slow death.   What am I saying?  No death, no death.

I head home from work and straight to the bathroom.  By the way, that is where I spent most of my working hours too.  I am convinced I have Botulism.  “Do I have a fever?”  I ask Husband every 10 minutes.  I run from one end of the house to the other checking for fevers or upset tummies from the rest of my family. Oh Lord help me. No  help US.

Husband is being very understanding and patient with me.  Patient with me?  What in the world is going on?  Are we dying and Husband does not have the heart to speak the words?  Does he not want me to know? This is so unlike him to be so, so  genuinely caring and understanding, while I am running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off.  I fall asleep with the thermometer in my mouth.

Fast forward to morning.  Husband wakes me and ask how I feel.  I tell him my tummy is still a little queasy but no headache and I think my brain has rebooted to normal but I am still worried.  I ask him how he is.  He says fine with half a smile.  He leaves early for work and I get ready too.   And that is when I see my socks.  All nicely folded.  Husband Folded My Socks.

My panic stems from the discussion husband and I had at the beginning of our marriage. Husband and I had a few, umm, words regarding his socks.  It seems I put a black and a navy sock together and he wore them to work.  It upset him so bad he came home with the Yells. He said all day long he was out of uniform because of the mistake I made (he was in the Navy at the time.)  I promised him I would never, and I mean never, put two different colored socks together again. To this day, I have never put two different sock together ever again; because, I STOP doing his laundry.  I never put any of his clothing in, up, or together again.  And with that Husband told me he was never doing my wash either.  In fact, I would have to be dying for him to even consider ever again doing my laundry or putting my socks together. And up until today (20 years later) he never has.

There it is folks.  I am dying because the Husband folded my socks.  If I am lucky I, we, still have 3 more days.  This my friends is a TRUE story.  There is no way to just make this stuff up.

note: this originally happened back in November. All is fine and we all lived. But I would still love to have a recipe of garlic oil that will not kill us all. If ya got one, send it.

The Bird House, okay me, I wanted to bring this to your attention as a public service announcement. N-E-V-E-R  try to infuse fresh garlic with cooking oil.  (TEE HEE)


And the crew, Kazumi, Chris, and Me, at the The Bird House wants to wish everyone a very Happy and Healthy, H-E-A-L-T-H-Y, New Year.  May we all enjoy the treasures of nature and family through-out 2012 and beyond.

Until next month,
Ruth
www.dontmesswithmeigotablog2.blogspot.com


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