The Hour Long Minute

I've been feeling the ravages of time lately. No, not my age, although I could write (and have written) a post or two about that as well. This time-suck is the dreaded minute. You know the one I'm talking about, the 60 seconds that invariably manage to drag by in about an hour. Those times when you feel compelled to grab onto that second hand and physically drag it around the clock.

Although it happens to us all now and then, this has been going on for me with frustrating regularity for over a month. It started, as far as I can remember, at PurDude's graduation. We were in line outside the hall, standing in 90 degree weather and I was, of course, wearing 3 inch wedges. Mine were black leather with gold accents, open toe, with a pretty woven wedge. You know, the kind that look great on so you have to wear them with that graduation outfit even though you'll still have remnants of the blisters 2 months later.

That's OK, I can make it, gotta suffer for fashion, right? And they're going to open the door in one minute. 

One minute that although literally lasting right around 60 seconds, felt like a melting, excruciating hour. Or two. And I had the frizzy hair and blistered feet to prove it.

More time-bending "in a minute" fun torture:

PurDude was streaming the Red Sox game to the TV. Boston was winning 1 - 0 when it froze. PurDude said he'd be back in a minute and went upstairs to check the laptop we were streaming through. Apparently Windows decided to update at that moment. He switched the streaming to his other computer and the game came back up. It was only a minute, felt like an hour, and we were losing 2 - 1 when we got the game back. Wait. What? What happened? (As a funny aside, PurDude has a friend from college who works for Microsoft. He texted his friend and told Riley he better fix Windows 'cause it ruined our game).

I'm almost home, just a minute away. But if I don't get out of this bra now, I swear it's going to dig into my skin so deep I'll need to have it surgically removed. If you, dear reader, are a woman, I've said enough, you know exactly how long that minute can last. Forget hours, years.

When you bake anything chocolate the house smells divine. As the time winds down and it's almost ready, mouths water. On Saturday we were at that point. All inhabitants of this house converged on me in the kitchen wanting to know when the cookies would be done. I looked at the clock and informed them all it would be just a minute. And then I stood there being stared down by 3 men for what seemed like an hour. And PS: good thing you can eat cookies hot because if that had been a cake this would not have ended pretty.


Nothing in my house freaks me out as much as spiders. Not even my kids, though there were times they sure seemed to make a full time job of trying. I was walking up the stairs the other day and hanging there by the window was a spider. I screamed out "quick, quick, come here and bring a tissue" to which College Boy answered "be there in a minute". I swear that minute lasted long enough for that spider to have gotten married, bought a house (in my hallway) and had twins.

I've had enough of this minute lasting an hour thing. I SO need a Chata Iced Coffee. Can you make me one? And don't you dare say "It'll be ready in a minute . . ."

Chata Iced Coffee

Chata Iced Coffee         
                                    ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients (per drink):
3 oz brewed coffee
1 oz french vanilla creamer
3 oz Rum Chata
1 oz cinnamon liqueur

OPT: scoop of french vanilla ice cream

Directions:
*Mix the hot coffee and the creamer. Refrigerate until cold.
*Remove from the refrigerator and mix in the Rum Chata and cinnamon liqueur.
*Serve over ice or with a scoop of ice cream.

Aloe and Snowflakes: Use Your Words

Today’s post is a monthly writing challenge. If you’re new here, this is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once. All of the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the recipient will take them. Until now.

At the end of this post you’ll find links to the other blogs featuring this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they got and how they used them.
I'm using:  swim ~ towel ~ aloe ~ snowflake ~ hot dog ~ Kool-aid  They were submitted by Dawn of Cognitive Script.

                          
We recently brought my younger son home from college. I'm still traumatized. Don't get me wrong, I love having him home. In my nice, neat, clean home. But what I saw up there, and especially when we unpacked back here, well, I can never un-see. I mentioned in an earlier post that I thought he was living in a house with a few friends. It wasn't until I got there that I realized he was living in a cave. A dark, disorganized, dilapidated cave. 

I know he's a boy, and I know boys will be boys, but I cannot believe the way he had been living. I am the most organized person on the planet. Apparently he is the least organized person on the planet. 

Somehow he had decided that he would only pack up what he needed or wanted at home for the next few months, then when his lease ran out in July he'd drive 10 hours back, pack up his 2nd floor room, and move it all down a thin staircase and out of the house by himself. So he was partially packed. Or so he said. 

In his bedroom upstairs were a half filled trunk, a half filled suitcase, and a body sized duffel bag I was too afraid to open. In his outer room were about 40 partially filled bags and 6 boxes completely covered in white dust and plaster (management had replaced his door at some point, who knows how long ago). It took me two days to convince him that he had to move his furniture out while we were there to help him, and that it made no sense to move partially out, then drive back for the rest of his belongings.

I did consolidate his trunk, suitcase, and bags before we left so we could fit everything into our cars. I didn't have a chance to go through anything, just noting that there was no rhyme or reason to what was where. Unfolded clothes were packed with toiletries, papers, whatever.

Once home (and after spending 2 days explaining that we would not be leaving everything in his unpacked until he moved out again), I worked with him to be sure he had everything organized. I still cannot believe what we'd transported home. 

I threw out about 10 pounds of trash. There were old receipts, plastic silverware, empty packaging. He had 3 bottles of aloe (which had apparently moved with him twice) from when he got a sunburn freshman year at a football game ("I'll skype with you, Mom, but don't freak out when you see me", just what every mom wants to hear). There were 14 sticks of deodorant, 10 bottles of hand lotion. Apparently the way toiletries work is that you use them once, misplace them in the morass and just buy another. Who knew?

There were about 50 batteries, a can of lighter fluid for the lighters he didn't have, and 3 packets of Kool-aid, which he does not drink. Had I found a half-eaten hot dog, I would not have been surprised. The body bag, I'm relieved (but bewildered) to say, was completely full of cords.

He had almost all of my missing beach towels, though I don't know why. And he had a new beach towel as well. Seems the one time he had an opportunity to swim, when he went with friends to Vegas for the weekend, he'd forgotten to pack a bathing suit and towel so bought new ones there. 

It wasn't until we got to the boxes that I realized he had packed them covered in dust, drove them home covered in dust and moved them into his room (yes, you guessed it) covered in dust. My turn to roll my eyes at one of my kids. I told him to take them outside and wipe the dust off of them so we could find what treasures lay inside. 

Later that morning College Boy and I were taking breakfast out to the deck. The outdoor dining table was covered in white. "What is all over the table?" College Boy asked. "Looks like snowflakes".

Loaded Egg in a Bagel Basket

Yes, it was plaster and dust. Guess I should have been specific, pretty much the only place I didn't want him to clean off those boxes in all of the outdoors would have been on my table. {{sigh}}.

If I ever, ever, am in the position to move this kid out of anywhere again (other than my house), the process will be simplified. Everything goes straight to the trash {{claps hands back and forth with finality}}. Done.

Here are links to all the other Use Your Words posts:

On the Border
 The Bergham Chronicles
The Blogging 911
Cognitive Script  
Climaxed
Part-Time Working Hockey Mom
Wannabe Linguistics 

Loaded Egg in a Bagel Basket

                                               ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

1 bagel
2 TBSP butter
3 eggs
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 cup cooked salmon, chopped
1 green onion, sliced

Directions:
*Slice the bagel lengthwise into thirds so you have 3 round slices with a hole in the center.
*Melt 1 TBSP butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the bagel slices and cook for 2 minutes. Remove from pan.
*Melt the remaining butter in the skillet. Put the bagel slices back in the pan, cooked side up. Crack one egg into the center of each slice. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and cook for 2 minutes. 
*Carefully flip the bagel slices over. Cook for 1 - 2 more minutes or until the egg is done to your liking. 
*Remove bagels from pan. Serve topped with salmon and green onion.

Just One Kiss: International Kissing Day Poetry

There's an app for that. What, you ask? Everything. Pretty much everything. Well long before apps there were holidays (or fake holidays) and celebrations and yes, it seems as though there's one for everything. Anything. 

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it. The humor, anyway. Whenever I need a laugh I know I can just google what holiday there is this day or week or month and I'm in for a good chuckle. In fact, I don't even have to look them up any more, just remind myself that there's a World Garden Naked Day and as laughs go, I'm good.

Today the Monthly Poetry Group has chosen to celebrate International Kissing Day. It was actually a little over a week ago, on July 6th. Hope you took full advantage of the occasion. I know I did. So did Julie:

 Just One Kiss

"I love you more than words can say",
star struck Johnny looked her way.
Julie blushed and looked away,
ran off with the girls to play.

Never one to just give up,
approaches her each day: "wassup?".
Never touching his little buttercup,
'cause "no" means no, only "yes" means yup.

"Let me give you just one kiss,
on the cheek, I will not miss.
Then for life I'll be in bliss,
when on this day I reminisce".

On and on it went like that,
striking out with each at bat.
Buzzing around her like a gnat,
All through kindergarten turned down flat.

True love calls for monumental feats
Saved allowance, brought her treats,
"Just one kiss? For all these eats?"
Then took in stride all his defeats.

Rustic Butterscotch M&M Bars

The day came as he knew it would,
summer vacation, no Julie, no good.
Then at the pool, right in his hood.
He looked up and there she stood.

"Do you know what day it is?"
"Friday" he answered, "is this a pop quiz?"
"International Kissing Day I hear 'tis",
she said as her eyes locked on his.
 
She puckered up and leaned his way.
His feet were mush, his eyes saw grey.
His breath got caught in his airway.
All saw him faint then, clear as day.

Before you go, click on these links to more poetry from some of my friends: 
Dawn of Cognitive Script shares Finding Her Prince. 
Kim of That Writer Junkie Writes shares 슬픈 사랑 or This Sad Love. 
Diane of On The Border shares Just Kiss Him!
Lydia of Cluttered Genius shares The Kiss That Shook Me. 

Rustic Butterscotch M&M Bars

                                                                          ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

2/3 cup butterscotch baking chips
1 stick butter or margarine, softened
2 over-ripe bananas, mashed
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
2 eggs, room temperature
1/2 tsp vanilla
2 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup plus 2 TBSP mini M&Ms

Directions:
*Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9 X 13 baking pan.
*Microwave and stir the butterscotch chips until completely melted and smooth. Set aside.
*Beat the butter or margarine, bananas, brown sugar, eggs and vanilla. Mix together the flour, baking powder and salt and carefully beat in. Mix in 1/2 cup of the mini M&Ms.
*Pour the batter into the prepared baking pan. Drizzle the melted butterscotch chips over the top and swirl into the batter. Top with the remaining mini M&Ms.
*Bake for about 30 minutes or until the sides are brown and the center completely cooked. Cool completely before cutting into bars.