Duck Duck Treat: Fly on the Wall

 

Welcome to our monthly Fly on the Wall, a blog post written in snippets. Marcia, Diane, and I invite you to catch a glimpse of what you’d see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes, at our writing desks, and in our worlds. Come on in, buzz around, see what we've been up to. Bet you laugh! 

Hubs and I both, in a past life, were buyers for a large retail chain. Obviously, price negotiation was a big part of the job.

We recently had a flood in our bathroom. Hubs was trying to switch out some thingy or other in the toilet and, though he thought he had the water turned off to the toilet, water was flooding the bathroom. 

He yelled down to me to get a plumber here NOW. If you know anything about plumbers, you know that's a near impossibility.

I called a company we'd used once before, but all of their plumbers were out on emergency calls. I explained that our bathroom was flooding. The receptionist got back on the line and told me to turn off the water to the whole house, and a manager would come right out and stop the water from flooding until one of their plumbers could get to us later in the day.

The manager came out, stopped the flooding, but instead of charging us and leaving, said he'd go back to his office (almost 1/2 hour away) and get us a part we need. While he was gone, I told Hubs this was going to cost us a fortune. And I was fine with it. This kind of customer service, response to our emergency, was amazing.

He came back, replaced 2 parts, then came in to discuss payment. 

Plumbing company manager: So today's charge will be $185.

Me: What? Are you sure?
Plumbing company manager: Ok then, $400.

We all laughed and I paid the $185. As soon as he left, Hubs turned to me:

Hubs: I think your price negotiating skills are a little rusty.

Ha. He has a point.

There once was a woman called witchy,

named that 'cause she was so bitchy.

Eye of newt, toe of frog, 

in your soup with tongue of dog,

would make anyone, bitchy . . . and twitchy.

Witch's Cauldron Giant Cookie recipe

Me: There's a dead cicada right in the middle of the deck.

Hubs: How do you know it's dead?
Me: It's been sitting in the same spot for 3 days.

Hubs: Maybe it's just tired.

Me: Maybe I'm just tired. Of listening to that incessant buzzing noise for 4 months. But you don't see me laying down in the middle of the deck. 

Just sayin'.

 

 

I was at PurDude's house longer than I expected to be, figuring out some wall decorations. The Sox were coming on, so PurDude turned the TV on. 

We had to watch the Sox through the MLB app, it wasn't on our cable MLB channel.

Me: When the game is on cable, dad can find it, but he doesn't know how to access the game on the MLB app.

PurDude: He doesn't?

Me: No, I usually just have it turned on, he comes in and just sits down. 

PurDude: So he never uses apps on the TV?

Me: No. Once, when I was on Marco Island he had me talk him through using the washing machine. And he still couldn't do it. Now that we replaced the toaster oven, I have to talk him through toasting a bagel. He'll be calling me to find out when I'm going to be home, or to try to talk him through getting onto the app. Guess it's good to be needed.

Just then my phone rings. I roll my eyes.

Hubs: When are you coming home?
Me (mouthing "told you" to PurDude): I don't know an hour or so, do you need me to . . .

Hubs (interrupting me): It took me a long time, but I figured out how to get the game. 

Me: Huh?

Hubs: So stay as long as you want, I'm just sitting here watching the Sox.

So much for being needed.

Maybe I'll just stay for a week. Eventually he'll want a bagel. Or clean clothes.

I am neat. Like really, really neat. Everything is in its place, always. No clutter. Use something, finish, put it away. How hard is that?

PurDude is a slob not neat. Like really, really not neat. Clutter everywhere. Use something, drop it when you're done. 

Sunglasses, matches, paperwork from the movers, and scissors on his fireplace mantle.

It drives me nuts. Sometimes at his house I put things away. He takes them right back out.

We were sitting in his TV room. The coffee table in there was covered with . . .  stuff. He had a cover for the pool table delivered, and he opened the box. 

PurDude (handing me 2 squares of material from the box): They sent this. 

Me: They're to patch the cover if it rips. Put them in the work room in the basement or somewhere where you'll be able to find them if you need them.

PurDude (throwing them onto the pile on the coffee table): I'll find them there.

Doubt it.

When I got home, I was talking to Hubs about that coffee table.

Me: I'm traumatized.

Hubs: What traumatized you?

Me: PurDude's coffee table.

Hubs: What was on it?

Me: What wasn't on it is an easier question.

Hubs: OK, what wasn't on it?

Me: Well, there was a banana in the kitchen.

Hubs: Think it'll be on the coffee table the next time you go over?
Me: Probably.

Ugh, I need a drink.

Spiced Amaretto Cocktail

Hubs sees me standing by the front door.

Hubs: Why are you just standing there, I thought you were going out to get the mail.

Me: I'm scared.

Hubs: Scared of the mail?

Me (pointing out the front door): Of that. Life is tough enough, it's October, and there's a black cat out there. No way I'm letting it cross my path. 

Hubs: Black cat? Put your glasses on. That's a squirrel.

Oh.

 

It's funny how some things just seem to take priority. 

Prices are, and have been out of control. Over a dollar for a zucchini. I've cut back, shopped multiple stores, planned leftover dinners, that kind of thing. And even when I buy in bulk or find good sales, I have to wonder if whatever I'm buying could give us all explosive diarrhea . . .

But it's Halloween, so bags and bags of candy will be bought. I used to sneak from my stash, but not so much this year. 

Not meaning I won't sneak, just not so much.

There once were some kiddies who'd say,

"give us candy, then we'll be on our way."

"What if I ate it all?"

"That will be your downfall,

ding dong ditch is what we'll daily play."

Guess I should end this October post with a little trick and a little treat. 

So, the trick.

Hubs and Older Son were doing an errand about 1/2 hour away. They were supposed to be heading home when Hubs called. He had a big problem with the car. It would turn on, but was frozen, wouldn't move, steering was locked, and a big engine error message was flashing. 

Yikes. We do not need this right about now. Well, any time, really.

I got the insurance phone number and our policy number, called a place we'd taken our car before where they specialized in Audis, and asked to have the car towed there.

Called Hubs back and while I was relaying all the info, I could hear Older Son in the background. He was reading from his cell, telling Hubs to do this, this, and then that.

Hubs did, and the car started right up, the steering unlocked, and it went into "drive" without a problem.

So, I started this story to tell you about the trick the car played on Hubs.

But there's also a treat, and that's College Boy saving us both time and money.

And here's my trick or treat story:

I was looking something up on the DuckDuckGo search engine. When I was done, I looked up myself. Well, my blog. I guess I'd never done it before, and don't really know why I did it now. But I'm not mad at what came up:

So I decided to check Google too. Why not?

Hope this wasn't a trick, 'cause to me it sure seemed like a sweet treat!

 

Now click on the links below and see what my friends have to share:

Menopausal Mother 

On the Border

Spiced Amaretto Cocktail

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients (makes 3):

3 oz spiced rum

2 oz amaretto

1 oz triple sec

1 oz pineapple liqueur

8 oz pineapple juice

4 oz lemon/lime soda 

splash grenadine (per cocktail)

Directions:
*Fill 3 cocktail glasses with ice.

*Add the rum, amaretto, triple sec, pineapple liqueur, and pineapple juice to a cocktail shaker and shake to mix. Gently mix in the lemon/lime soda.

*Divide the cocktail into the glasses. Add a splash of grenadine to each drink.

The Eyes Don't Have It: Fly on the Wall

 

Welcome to our monthly Fly on the Wall, a blog post written in snippets. Marcia, Diane, and I invite you to catch a glimpse of what you’d see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes, at our writing desks, and in our worlds. Come on in, buzz around, see what we've been up to. Bet you laugh! 

We were watching the Red Sox, who have a pitching issue. Again, this year.

They were ahead by 2 runs, but given the pitching later in the game, that's just not enough. But they broke the game open in the 4th inning, and were ahead by six runs.

Hubs: Well that's better, now we have enough runs to not have to worry about the pitching.

Me: Yeah, don't put all your chickens in a hatch.

Hubs? What?

Me: You know what I mean.

Hubs: I know what you mean, but do you know what you said?

Sorta.

 

OMG sometimes I really worry about . . . well . . . me.

I knew the Sox were playing at 5:40, so I planned dinner for 5:30. 

I finish cooking and call Hubs up from the man cave.

Hubs: Why are we eating so early?

Me: The Sox are on at 5:40.

Hubs: Yeah, and . . .

Me: And what?
Hubs: It doesn't take us over an hour to eat, why are we eating at 4:30.

I looked at the clock on the microwave and yes, it's 4:30.

So, I went to the microwave (that has a clock) to set the timer for when I wanted to start dinner. I shut the microwave (that has a clock) timer off and started preheating the lower oven (that has a clock) and the upper oven (that has a clock). I set the timer on the microwave (that has a clock) for when I have to flip the food. I shut the microwave (that has a clock) timer off, took the food out of the lower oven (that has a clock), flipped the food, stuck it back in the oven (that has a clock), reset the microwave (that has a clock) timer for when the food would be done. When it was done, I shut the microwave (that has a clock) timer off, and took the food out of both ovens (that, has a clock).

That's quite a few chances I had to . . . you know . . . look at a clock.

And yes, my glasses were on.

Me: I think the Sox game is in a rain delay.

Hubs: Why do you think that?
Me: It's supposed to start in 2 minutes and they haven't switched to the game.

Hubs (squinting at the TV from the kitchen: They don't have the tarps out on the field.

Me: How do you know?
Hubs (pointing to the TV): I don't see it on the ground. Me: That's because you're looking at the studio.

And who needs his eyes checked now?

Sitting on the couch watching TV with Hubs:

Me: Oh, look at that, it's clear

Hubs (turns to look at me): What's clear?
Me: Everything.

Hubs: Everything? You're going to have to give me more information. 

Me: I was squinting at the TV, but I just put my glasses on and now it's clear. Everything.

Hubs: Well, there you go!

So, maybe both of us?

Back when PurDude had first moved into his house and his furniture hadn't arrived yet, I moved a lot of furniture, rugs, lights, and accessories from our house to his. I set up both bathrooms and his guest bedroom for him, moved a lamp into his sunroom and a small table and stools into his kitchen. I also put some leftovers in his freezer, and put a few things like peanut butter in his pantry and bread, bagels and butter in his fridge. He'd be able to live there comfortably until the movers brought his furniture.

His first day living there, he had come to dinner and mentioned that he wasn't eating the bagels yet (Aldi Maple French Toast bagels, btw, delish!) because he didn't have a toaster oven. I gave him ours out of our pantry, as we now have an air fryer and don't need it.

As he was walking out the door:

Me (speaking softly to Hubs): Quick, can you think of any more stuff we want to get rid of?
PurDude (from the door): I hear you!

Oops.

A few weeks later we were at his house helping him out as the movers delivered his furniture.

PurDude (holding my toaster oven): Thanks mom, I don't need this any more.

Me (moving backwards away from him): Sorry, no givsies backsies!

Chocolate Raspberry Swirl Donuts

After PurDude had moved in, but before his furniture came, we had one last worker coming in. PurDude would be there to let him in, but not necessarily be there when he left.

The doors in his house have 2 locks, an original on the doorknob, and a deadlock PurDude put above it.

Since the deadbolt needs a key, I told the contractor to just have his worker lock the doorknob and pull the door shut when he leaves, this would lock the door. Well, that's what I thought I told him.

Me (via text): Just have him lick the doorknob and pull the door shut when he leaves.

Good thing the guy can't see just how red my face is.

 

I heard a noise, so I went to look out the window.

Me (texting to Hubs at work): There's a plane landing in the neighbor's back yard.

Hubs: That's it! Are you going to the eye doctor on your own, or do I need to drag you there?

Me: Really. There's a plane landing in the neighbor's back yard.

Not actually landing, it came all the way down almost to the lawn, hovered, and left. It looked like a blow-up balloon airplane.

It was an Amazon drone, and it dropped a package on the back lawn. First time I'd seen that.

I had some Mahi Mahi marinating in an Italian salad dressing mixture. I put it on the grill, and when I went back into the house, I realized that I'd dripped salad dressing all over the deck. I wiped it up with a wet paper towel which, of course, did nothing. 

The next morning, Hubs brought the hose up onto the deck to spray it down.

Me: You know, the deck looks really good where the salad dressing is. 

Hubs: It does, the oil brings out the color of the planks.

Me: So, another option to hosing this down is that we could just smear salad dressing over the rest of the deck.

Hubs: Then we could play slip and slide right to the hospital.

Me: But the deck would look great.

Hubs (pointing the hose at me: Go in the house!

I went. Just in case . . .

 .

We had new neighbors move in next door last month. A younger couple, a baby, and an older couple. The older man is often outside with the baby. He is such a pleasant man, but we really couldn't communicate with him well, he not only speaks almost no English, but is close to deaf. No one else in the family has come anywhere near us.

I saw the young father outside with his lawn mower. His lawn was really long, and I figured he was taking care of it.

Maybe he's new to home ownership, I don't know. But I'm thinking he doesn't quite get how this mowing your lawn thing works.

You're supposed to do the whole thing, right? Or are my eyes deceiving me?

And one final nudge towards an eye exam:

When they are advertising a show called Bodies in the Water, and you read it as boobies in the water, it's time to . . . you know.

 

Now click on the links below and see what my friends have to share:

Menopausal Mother 

On the Border

Chocolate Raspberry Swirl Donuts (baked)

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

1/2 stick butter, melted

2 cups flour

3/4 cup sugar

2 TBSP baking powder

1 tsp powdered french vanilla creamer

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 cup milk

1 egg

1 tsp vanilla

1/2 cup chocolate chips

2 TBSP raspberry jam

1 tsp baking cocoa

1/3 cup sugar

2 tsp cinnamon

Directions:

*Set the melted butter aside to cool a bit.

*Preheat oven to 350 degrees, grease the wells of a (12 well) donut pan.

*Whisk together the flour, 3/4 cup of sugar, baking powder, powdered creamer, salt, and milk.

*Melt the chocolate chips in the microwave at 20 second intervals until smooth. Add the raspberry jam, microwave another 15 seconds, stir, add the baking cocoa, and set aside.

*In a separate bowl, whisk the milk, egg, and vanilla together, then add to the flour mixture. Mix just until it forms a dough.

*Mix together the remaining sugar with the cinnamon. Spread onto a piece of parchment paper to form a rectangle about 12 inches long by 10 inches high.

*With floured hands, form the dough into about a 12 inch long in the center of the cinnamon sugar mixture on the parchment paper.

*Using a floured rolling pin, gently roll the dough to a 12 X 10 rectangle. Gently spread the chocolate raspberry mixture onto the dough, leaving about 1/4 inch margin at the top and bottom. Vertically, cut into 12 slices.

*Starting at the bottom, fold each in half. Gently twist the center, then each end. Press the ends together to seal and form a circle. Put each one into a donut well.

*Bake for 12 - 14 minutes until the center springs back to the touch. Allow to cool for 10 minutes in the pans.

*To remove, run a knife along the edges of each donut, gently pulling towards the center. Remove and allow to cool completely.