Fasting and Creaking: Fly on the Wall

 

 Welcome to a monthly Fly on the Wall group post. Today 2 bloggers are inviting you to catch a glimpse of what you’d see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes. Come on in and buzz around my house. At the end of my post you’ll find links to this month’s other participants’ posts.

I was in the den working on my laptop when I heard Hubs coming up from the man cave. Before he got to the top step, I started talking to him.

Hubs (coming up the last few steps and looking around the wall at me): You were talking to me?
Me: Yeah, I do that now and then.

Hubs: But how did you know I was coming up?
Me: I heard the creaking.

Hubs: Those steps don't creak.

Me: No, you do.

 

 

From the "be careful what you wish for" files:

Every October we inevitably end up with bugs that get ino the house. I can't stand having flies in the kitchen but spiders are the worst.

I said something to Hubs about wishing those bugs didn't find their way inside every year at this time. A few days later he came upstairs holding a tissue.

Hubs: You know how you wished bugs would stop getting in the house?

Me: Yes.

Hubs (showing me what's in the tissue he's holding): Be careful what you wish for.

Fly on the wall, toad on the stairs

Hubs was in the kitchen when I came racing down from upstairs.

Me: Oh no, oh no, oh no . . .

Hubs: What's wrong?

Me: It's raining on my avocado.

Hubs: It's what?

Me (running out to the deck in the pouring rain): It's raining on my avocado.

Hubs (looking at me and mumbling under his breath to himself): Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask.

I had walked up to a local park and sat down on a bench before heading home. I smiled at a woman sitting on another bench with her grandson playing on the ground in front of her.

Little boy: Grandma, you're old.

Woman: Oh really? How old am I?

Little boy: You're ninety hundred.

I didn't hear the rest of the conversation, I decided to get out of there before it was my turn . . .

I was cooking dinner when College Boy walked in:

College Boy: What do I smell?
Me: If it's a good smell, dinner. If it's a bad smell, not dinner.

College Boy: Smells like pot.

Skillet Taco Chicken

Me: Ummm . . . the appetizer?

I joke a lot about aging, forgetfulness in particular. But this past month I shared something new about it on my Baking In A Tornado Facebook page.

Yes! Note to self: look for those silver linings.

Me: You know, I've been reading a few articles about health in general, and boosting your immune system specifically.

Hubs: Really, what does it entail?

Me: Well, it's about the benefits of fasting once a month.

Hubs: {{thinking}} {{thinking}} so . . . what you're saying is that you don't have anything planned for dinner, right?

Me: Maybe . . .

Damn, he saw right through me.

The way our master bedroom is set up, if you walk most of the way through the room, just before the sitting area, to the right is the master bath. You can't see it all in this picture, but when you walk into the bathroom, directly to your left is a room with the toilet and some storage shelves, further down is shower and bathtub. Directly to your right is the linen closet, further down are the double sinks.

Straight ahead is a large, long, walk in closet. The closet door is usually closed, including when we change our clothes in there, since the mirror is on the back of that door.

One afternoon, I didn't realize that Hubs was in the closet changing, and he didn't realize that I had gone into the toilet room, until he heard me yell:

Me: YAY!

Hubs (coming out of the closet): So . . . I guess things are going pretty well for you in there?

OK, that could be embarrassing . . .

. . . but actually, out there is where things were going pretty well. I had turned on the TV as I walked through the bedroom, and had just heard the Patriots get a touchdown.

I had done the laundry and handed Hubs some of his clothes to put away since he was heading upstairs anyway.

Hubs (coming back downstairs and into the laundry room): Do you have any more of my clothes here?
Me: No, why?
Hubs: I only had one brown sock, and I had 5 white socks.

Me: Well, either that's what you wore . . .

Hubs: It isn't.

Me: Or there's something you need to know.

Hubs: What's that?

Me: When it comes to socks, we have no control. The dryer giveth, and the dryer taketh away.

I get really anxious when the boys travel. Maybe it's my having been traumatized when PurDude was in college and I'd checked on the airline flight map, found his flight, and as I was trying to figure out where it was, it disappeared off the map. And didn't come back.

Or it could have been from the years of him driving alone from here to college, and then from here to his current home in Colorado. Along the way there are long stretched of nothingness, nowhere really where he could get help.

When the boys travel, they know to text all along the way: when they leave home, when they stop for gas, or get to the airport, when they board . . . it just helps if I know where they are.

Tomorrow was going to be a tough day for me. PurDude is traveling alone. He has to walk 20 minutes at 4:00am, to catch a 4:30am bus to the airport, to take his first flight to LAX, then get to his second 11 hour flight, then make his way to the first place they'll be staying, where he'll meet up with his friends (all flying in from different states).

College Boy then came to me at the beginning of this week:

College Boy: Mom, I have to tell you something but first I want to ask you a question.

Me: What's the question?
College Boy: Do you have a prescription for valium? Or should I roll you a few joints?
Me: Now you're scaring me. Just tell me, What?

College Boy: One of my favorite artists is having a pop-up album sale on Saturday in NY. I think I'm going to fly out to Laguardia on Friday, stay in Staten Island with a friend or a hotel in Manhattan, go to the pop up in the Bronx on Saturday and fly back on Sunday.

Me: So you'll be traveling on Friday, your brother will be traveling on Saturday, and you'll be traveling on Sunday?

College Boy: Yes.

Me: Both.

College Boy: Both what?

Me: Valium AND a couple of joints. 

 

 

 

Now click on the links below for a peek into some other homes:

Menopausal Mother

Skillet Taco Chicken

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
1 cup orzo

2 lg boneless skinless chicken breast halves

1/2 small onion

1 small jalapeno

1 TBSP taco seasoning

1 can (14.5 oz) stewed tomatoes

1 can (15 oz) corn niblets

1 can (15 oz) red kidney beans

1 tsp garlic powder

1/4 tsp chili powder

1/4 tsp cumin

1/4 tsp black pepper

1/4 tsp salt

fresh cilantro to taste

OPT: top with shredded cheese, sour cream, guacamole, corn chips, tortilla chips, and/or serve with tortillas

Directions:
*Cook the orzo. Drain and set aside.
*Cut the chicken into bite sized pieces. Chop the onion. Remove the top and seeds and chop the jalapeno.

*Spray a large skillet with cooking spray, heat over medium heat, and add the chicken, onion, and jalapeno. Sprinkle with the taco seasoning. Cook, stirring now and then, until the chicken is fully cooked. 

*Drain the corn niblets and kidney beans.

*Add the tomatoes and their juices to the skillet along with the garlic powder, chili powder, cumin, pepper, and salt. Stir, breaking up the tomatoes. 

*Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer for 10 minutes. Add the corn, kidney beans, and orzo. Cook, stirring, until hot. Sprinkle with cilantro.