Sticks, Stones, and TMI: 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! 

 

It was about 8:30 pm. Hubs and I were heading home. Coming down the street, we see College Boy a few houses up from ours, looking around, then walking down the street past our house, looking around.

We drive up to where he is:

Me: What are you looking for?
College Boy: Dinner.

Me: Well, most people would look in the oven . . . or the fridge . . . but, carry on.

We were in the house when he came in a few minutes later. 

When he first got here and we weren't home, he decided to have a burger delivered to the house for dinner, he'd eat while waiting for us to come home.

He got a text that his dinner had been delivered, along with a picture of the bag sitting by the door. Unfortunately, it wasn't our door. Before contacting the deliverer, he walked up and down the street trying to see if it was nearby. It wasn't. The driver had to come back, retrieve it from wherever it had ended up, and bring the burger to the house.

He got a full refund and a free (but cold) dinner.

I get so frustrated when spammers try to leach off of my Baking In A Tornado FB page by leaving links as comments in my posts.

And it's often 5 or 6 times, one after another. Each link is the same, but the verbiage is different. I have to go in, delete the link, and block the FB page that left it.

Me: Ugh, this is so frustrating.

College Boy: What?

Me: These spam links left on my page, like this one.

College Boy: What does it say?

Me: Well, this one is a link to the miracle doctor this woman claims cured her herpes.

College Boy: Maybe you shouldn't delete it.

Me: Why?

College Boy: You know, just in case . . .

Sometimes it can be a bit misleading to walk in on a conversation without knowing the context. I walked into the den where Hubs and PurDude were.

Hubs: Call your balls! You need to call your balls.

Me: Really? I know you guys somehow think it's cute to name for your "sticks," but I've never heard of calling your "stones." What do you call yours?

PurDude: Stop! TMI. Jeez you guys, TMI!

Turns out Hubs and PurDude were watching baseball. Someone hit a pop up and, in their attempt to catch the ball, because neither called the ball, the two fielders collided.

Meanwhile, looks like I may need to pay for counseling for my son . . .

I walk into the kitchen and Hubs is adding something to the checkbook. Yes, we still keep a checkbook, between him using his debit card, me using mine, the few checks we need to send out, pre-scheduled payments, and direct deposits, we need to know where we stand. 

Hubs had come in from work, was putting what he's spent in the checkbook when he looked up:

Hubs: I caught you.

Me: What did I do now?

Hubs: What did you spend $5000 on that's not in the checkbook.

Me: Huh?

Hubs shows me my last addition to the check book. We'd had $7999.35. I'd notated a refund credit for $1.80, and posted a balance of $2583.79.

And honestly, I have no idea how I came up with that.

It was Independence Day, and I always make up fun cocktails to sip while sitting out front watching the neighborhood fireworks.

But, of course, I had to make up a quick batch a few days before just to . . . you know . . . make sure they would come out the way I wanted.

I might mention here that I love Chambord. And, of course, cool refreshing ice cream. Perfect to pair the two for a hot summer night.

The day I'd made my trial batch, I took a taste, and yum! So I kept drinking.

And Hubs came in and caught me with a glass in each hand.

Hubs: You drinking both of those yourself?

Me: I asked you if you wanted one, but you didn't answer.

Hubs: I didn't hear you.

Me: Probably because I was whispering.

Chambord Ice Cream Cocktail

I hate the intrusion into my life that the internet provides, tracking everything I do online to take advantage of me (all of us). Sometimes they're at least on track with my likes and/or needs. 

But lately, not so much.

First, I noticed that FB was constantly (like 10 times a day) bombarding my feed with posts from a bariatric surgery recipe group. And I thought it was a fluke. I blocked the posts from my feed (for no other reason than it just doesn't pertain to me), and went on with my life. 

Next thing you know, I'm getting tons of posts in my FB feed from a Weight Watchers group. 

And today I went to my inbox to find an email from Sono Bello informing me that it's not too late to get my body back.

I don't know what all this is coming from, but I'm starting to feel judged.

 

Some lessons you just end up learning the hard way. This was one I already should have learned long ago, to pay attention to what you're doing when baking.

I had some of my ingredients on the counter, including the vinegar. I was thirsty, so I grabbed my water bottle out of the fridge and stuck it on the counter before I went to get the flour and baking powder.

Thinking about the recipe and not paying attention to what was going on, you know what I did, right? Let me just say that a mouthful of vinegar is no bueno.

On the plus side, you can bet I'll never do that again.

I'd had a few biopsies on my face and came home with bandaids over my nose. Needless to say, it didn't look pretty. College Boy came in the house, looked at me, and stopped short.

College Boy: What happened to you?

Me: You should see the other guy.

College Boy: I know you didn't get in a fight.

Me: Yeah, the other guy was a doctor, and he got away without a scrape.

I was in the den when College Boy came in and headed upstairs.

College Boy: OK if I grab a few supplies from your bathroom?
Me: What do you need?

College Boy: Just some toothpaste, soap, and Q tips.

Me: OK, that's fine.

College Boy comes downstairs and looks . . . perturbed.

College Boy: Do you really think it's a good idea to leave that jar of vaseline right there on your bedside table?

Me: You try getting old.

College Boy: TMI, mom, TMI!

Actually, the doctor wanted me put vaseline on the biopsy wounds. Hubs found it for me and just stuck it on my bedside table. 

But I see no reason to tell College Boy that . . .

The beginning of the month of July is loud around here. And sometimes it's hard to distinguish what is what.

Monday, July 1st:

Hubs: Is that thunder?
Me: No, it's fireworks.

Tuesday July 2nd:
Hubs: Is that fireworks?
Me: No, it's thunder.

Wednesday July 3rd:
Hubs: Is that thunder or fireworks?
Me: Neither. That's my stomach grumbling.

 

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

Menopausal Mother 

On the Border

Chambord Ice Cream Cocktail

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients (makes 2):

1 pint Birthday cake ice cream

1/2 cup Chambord

6 oz fresh raspberries

1 TBSP multicolored nonpareils

OPT: whipped cream and/or decorative sprinkles for garnish

Directions:

*Place the ice cream into a large bowl. Add the Chambord and whisk until smooth.

*Clean, pat dry, and chop the raspberries. Add them, along with multicolored nonpareils to the bowl and mix.

*NOTE: You can pour into glasses, garnish and serve, or for a slushier cocktail, freeze for 2 hours, then spoon into glasses, garnish and serve.

The Rain has to Stop Somewhere

  

It's been raining here. That's an understatement. It's been like build an ark amount of rain. Our sump pump is working overtime. The spot on our lawn where it drains? Let's just say these days it resembles a bird bath. And don't get me started on the subject of my fears that it's become a mosquito breeding ground.

Good news: I don't have to water my outdoor flower pots. Bad news: all those pretty flowers could very well drown.

Every morning, I look out at the skies saying "please don't, please just don't."

Between the rain going on outside and the terrifying political news on the TV inside, it's been tough.

But yesterday was the 4th of July, Independence Day, and we were lucky enough to have a break from the rains. We were able to cook out, eat our ice ceam pie on the front porch hearing the bangs and booms, watching the skies over our neighborhood light up with fireworks.

It was celebratory, but hampered by the fear in the back of my mind that, with the possibility of a dictator taking power and putting a (further) stranglehold on our freedoms, this could be our last celebration of independence, of everything this country was meant to be.

And now, today, well, you know. "Please don't, please just don't."

All of this rain has brought back a memory from when I was little. Something unusual. Unusual to me, at least. 

I was probably around 9 years old and we were visiting my great aunt and uncle in West Palm Beach as we did each winter. I had walked all the way past the fountain and up the long rock driveway to the street. Just as I got there, it had started to rain, a late morning shower. But as I looked to the side, I realized that it wasn't raining. Strange. As far as I could see down one side of the road it was raining. All the way down the other it was dry.

I took a step out of the rain, into the rain, out of the rain. And in that moment, I was visually aware that, of course, the rain has to stop somewhere. I mean it happens all the time when you're in a car driving through the rain, then, if you drive far enough, come out of the storm. But this was different. I was there. Standing in that exact spot where the rain just stopped. 

Under the cloud or out into the sunshine, the choice was mine.

Strawberry Biscoff Ice Cream Pie

So yes, I know that any rain to fall here would eventually stop here. "The sun will come out tomorrow," and all that crap. But I also know that at this moment, somewhere, there is a line. The rain has to stop somewhere. 

And today, boosted by the celebration of Independence Day and all that our freedom means to so many of us, I have hope that wherever that line may be, someone is making the choice to take just one step to the left, out from under that dark cloud and into the sunlight. 

Not just for themself, but for us all. 

Strawberry Biscoff Ice Cream Pie

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

4 TBSP butter

1 TBSP cookie butter

1 package Biscoff cookies (32 cookies)

2 TBSP sugar

4 cups strawberry ice cream

2 strawberries

1 cup heavy cream

2 TBSP powdered sugar

3 TBSP strawberry syrup

OPT: the 3 remaining cookies and/or sliced strawberries for garnish

Directions:

*Melt the butter and cookie butter in the microwave and set aside.

*Preheat oven to 375 degrees and grease a deep dish pie plate.

*Crush 25 of the Biscoff cookies into crumbs, then mix with the sugar and melted butter/cookie butter mixture. Press into the bottom and partially up the sides of the pie plate. Bake for 6 minutes, refrigerate to cool completely.

*While the crust is cooling, place the ice cream in a large bowl on the counter for 10 - 15 minutes to soften.

*Chop 4 of the remaining Biscoff cookies into chunks. Hull and chop the strawberries.

*Beat the heavy cream until soft peaks form. Add the powdered sugar and strawberry syrup and beat until stiff peaks hold. Reserve about 1/2 cup in the refrigerator for garnish.

*Mix the chopped cookies and strawberries into the softened ice cream, then fold in the remaining whipped cream. Spread into the crust and freeze for 1/2 hour. 

*Top with the reserved whipped cream. garnish with the remaining cookies and or additional strawberries, if desired. Freeze for at least 2 hours (best if frozen overnight) before serving.