Days when parenting stresses me out:
Ellie started puking yesterday morning and had stopped by about noon. Then she puked one more time last night at 6:30. She seems fine and I have a sort of work interview in Denver in three hours. I think sending her to school is the right thing to do. If I were going to be closer, I wouldn't think twice. Joe will be nearby but will also be pretty busy today.
I think Frisco and I both had the same bug and we were fine by about 18 hours. So I *think* she will be fine.
I also have a clicky stick that has no gas, it just sparks, and it uses Zippo lighter flints. It's like 30 years old.
That's what I thought they ALL were!
Newer generations have piezoelectric crystal for making spark.
I have one of those made to spark without gas, too.
I managed to melt the casing of one of my disposable ones, once. It was knocked into the grill and I wisely didn't want to reach in and pick it out with my hand.
I'm not making the enabling easier with that story, I guess.
My dad had an adorable wee torch from his jewelry making hobby. I inherited it last year. I keep meaning to figure out how to refill it with butane and see if I can bruleé with it. But I'm slightly terrified of doing it wrong and blowing off my fingers.
Easy peasy. It's a matter of holding it with the filler port upright, taking the can of butane and pushing it down into the port and it fills like a car tire valve. If there is a display glass on the side, you can check it as you go and fill it in increments. At the very least, it will stop filling when the pressure valve inside says "whoa!"
Raisin bran:
What? I like fire.
Not so much with the arson, but I do like a good bon-type fire.
Frisco just told me that my boots are "cute!".
She's sad, however, that they haven't turned her eyes brown. Which is freakish, because the woman has insanely green eyes.
I am a green-eyed person who covets the brown, also. Although I sorta learned a life lesson as a teenager, when I noticed that my beautiful, brown-eyed cousin Amy was wearing green contacts.
Stephanie, I'm pretty sure that your girl will be just fine. I'm not an expert on these things, but you have good reason to believe she is over the bug. You are just having working-mom guilt and nerves.
It's a matter of holding it with the filler port upright, taking the can of butane and pushing it down into the port and it fills like a car tire valve.
Hmmmmm. This sound pretty doable. Thanks!
"You are hereby directed to assemble one regulation, bon-type fire." - Col Potter
Does Bon-bon know she's a regulation fire type? (And an awesome one, I'm sure.)
