Woodstock Area Job Bank

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By the time you are reading this newsletter, I hope this little experiment is no longer possible!  You know how we have some days in the summertime where the thermometer climbs so high that the pool, the river, and even the ocean no longer feel refreshing?  Well, we hit that point today. I was taking care of my two granddaughters and even after swimming for the morning they were hot and cranky and I was exhausted.  I had two choices: I could join the throngs heading to the air-conditioned movie theater or I could lie in the shade with a tall glass of ice water and come up with some novel ideas for them to pursue.  Some task they had never been allowed to do before and one that would occupy them until the sun went down or their parents  came to pick them up after work.

They tried finding four-leaf clovers, but my husband had just mowed the lawn so the pickings were slim—10 minutes tops.

They tried ice cube races in the wading pool—2 minutes, the ice cubes melted too quickly.

They tried blowing blades of grass—less than 1 minute— to0 hard.

Then I remembered the old saying,”It’s so hot out you could fry an egg.”

But could you?  I had heard the expression many times before, but I don’t remember ever actually trying it.  I sent Samantha and Kira off to the kitchen to find everything they would need.  Sending a five- and seven-year old into the kitchen— alone —to find a bowl, a spatula, a dozen eggs, the salt, the pepper and the paprika was bound to take some time.  What’s the worst that could happen?  Don’t answer that!  After several back and forths and a few, “Is this what you want?” we were ready to begin.

After a quick lesson on how to crack an egg they were off.

”YaYa,” Samantha called out to me, “Kira got some shell in hers.”

“It doesn’t matter Samantha we aren’t going to eat the eggs even if this works.”

“Why not?”

“Because we are cooking them on the ground.”

“We could put a pan under them.”

“Yes, but then we wouldn’t know if you can fry an egg on the driveway.  Go check the eggs.”

“YaYa! YaYa!  I think the eggs are cooking.  How do we know?”

“Well, the clear part turns white.”

“What color does the yellow part turn,” asked Kira.

“Yellow.”

“That doesn’t make sense.  Why doesn’t the yellow change color?”

“I don’t know.  Go check on the eggs.”

“Done!”

“Now you have to turn them over.”

“How?”

“With the spatula, Samantha, like Poppi flips the pancakes. Go check on the eggs.”

“Eww!  The yellow part exploded.”

“Well, stir it around then you’ll have scrambled eggs.”

I am happy to say the old expression “hot enough to fry an egg” is absolutely true.  Two dozen eggs, two very sticky children and one refreshed grandmother hosed down the driveway as the sun went down and headed back to the pool to wash all the evidence away.

“YaYa,” asked Kira, “Can we do it again tomorrow?”

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