Gold: 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! 

Spent 2 really great family weeks while PurDude was here. Mostly, we watched sports, but every now and then I got a chance to watch one of the shows I enjoy.

I love mystery and true crime. At one point, when PurDude was in college in Indiana (Purdue, obviously), but was home for the summer, I noticed that an inordinate amount of the true crime shows took place in Indiana, or at least had an Indiana connection. Whenever he was here and one of those shows came on, I'd comment about the Indiana connection, teasing him about it not being safe for me to send him back to school.

This time, while he was home, one of those shows was coming on and I said something, jokingly, about where in Indiana this murder might have taken place.

Then the show started, and it took place in Massachusetts.

PurDude: Ha, mom, it's in your home state.

They start with the back story. A young woman is murdered in her parent's home. She's there for winter break from where she goes to college, Indiana University.

Me: Ha, indeed. 

Older Son caught a bad cold at work and, unfortunately, PurDude and Hubs all got sick. We had a box of severe cold medicine with 16 daytime medicine packets and 8 nighttime packets. PurDude was the last one to get sick, so he was the last one to feel better. He needed another night or two of the nighttime medicine, but we only had the daytime packets left.

Hubs (looking in the box): I think he needs ore of the nighttime medicine, but we only have the daytime tablets left. That's a problem.

Me: No problem.

Hubs: But the nighttime one really helps you sleep.

Me: That's OK, I'll just make the daytime meds into nighttime meds.

Hubs: Really? How can you do that?

He saw exactly how as I walked over to PurDude with 2 daytime capsules and a shot of apple bourbon.

Mission accomplished.

It was Thanksgiving afternoon, we had snacks set out on the kitchen counter and were all sprawled out on couches watching football. Exhausted, I was almost dozing when PurDude startled me awake.

PurDude (looking at me): HA!

Me: Ha?
PurDude: I caught you.

Me: You caught me.

PurDude: Yes. Where, exactly, have you been hiding these.

He shoves his phone in my face showing a picture I'd posted on my FB page with a Thanksgiving message. The picture was of my Gobble Gobble Turkey Treats.

Me: Those? Those are long gone.

PurDude: I didn't have a single one.

Me: Well, I'm sure you did. Back in 2018 when I made them . . .

The night before PurDude was leaving, I was making dinner. For one of the sides I was roasting some baby potatoes. I'd bought a bag of mixed baby whites, baby reds, and baby purples. I had halved them and were putting them in the baking dish to prepare. PurDude had moved up to the counter stools to talk to me.

PurDude: Oh, it looks like they went bad.

Me: What went bad?
PurDude: Those black potatoes.

Me: Those aren't black, they're purple, they're supposed to look like that.

PurDude (giving me that skeptical arched eyebrow look): You trying to poison me?
Me: No fooling you, you got me.

Later, we all sat down with our meals. Before we started eating, I went to fill my wine glass.

And when I came back, PurDude's plate had only the white and red potatoes on it. And my plate somehow had only the purples.

Things get pretty hectic about this time of year, I know I don't have to tell you that. We'd just finished round one: Thanksgiving cooking and baking, along with PurDude being here for 2 weeks and preparing all of his favorite meals and snacks and desserts, all with a family birthday thrown in.

While PurDude was here, we celebrated Hanukkah early with our traditional Prime Rib and latkes dinner. But now it's actually Hanukkah time, we had another family birthday just a few days ago, and then there are the parties, cookie swaps, Christmas, New Year's . . .

I, like most of us this time of year, was swamped. I was in my baking zone and had lost track of time. I Didn't even know it was dinner time until Hubs walked in the door. 

Hubs (putting down his briefcase): What's for dinner?
Me (looking around the kitchen guiltily): Ummm, Chocolate Peppermint Pie?

In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have made that a question if I wanted to sound convincing. Live and learn.

Chocolate Peppermint Pie

And now that PurDude is back in Boulder:

I was texting PurDude and I have no idea what happened. I wasn't looking at the keyboard as I texted, but clearly I wasn't hitting the letters I thought I was because I looked down and saw:

I dubakkt diybs a 

Frustrated, I started backspacing to delete the letters and start over. And, again, I don't know what happened, but part of the way through, it sent. So my text to PurDude was:

I dubakkt di

And as if that's not bad enough, it appears I had liked my own text.

I didn't even know you even COULD like your own text. 

Perfect, the kid's gonna have me committed.

 

One thing that doing stupid things does, is it makes you more vigilant. So the next day, when I was texting PurDude, I was paying more attention to what I was doing.

PurDude: How are you, mom?

Me: I'm good, how are you doing?

Well, that was what I was trying to say.

Autocorrect had other ideas. Fortunately, I caught it before I responded:

I'm good, how are you, donkey?

Seems autocorrect is trying to make an ass of me.

Ugh, and one I missed. So much for being vigilant. But PurDude had sent me his daily check in text, and I was in the middle of about 5 things and I was in a rush.

I'd been complaining to him for the last few days that it was just cold and dark and dreary out. Depressing.

So, rather than a longer text with family news, as is my usual, I was short and to the point.

PurDude: Hi ma, how are you, ma?

Me: I'm great, we have sun!

PurDude: OK, love you, ma.

OK? That's weird. Like he doesn't quite know how to respond. So I looked at my text again.

And yes, I can see why he didn't know what to say. Because what I'd actually texted? It was:

Me: I'm great, we have sin!

Yeah, not even close to what I wanted to say. I rarely boast about sin. Especially to my son.

Whoever isn't on social media is really missing out. And I don't mean the posts. No, the social media gold is in the comments on the posts.

I saw a posted story, a video of a woman showing how she makes breakfast for her 5 year old son. As she put rice into a steamer, she explained that in her husband's culture, they have rice with every meal.

Then she chops potatoes and puts them into an air fryer. She gets a cast iron pan screaming hot and puts a steak about the size of the pan in with butter and garlic. When the steak is done, she moves the rice, potatoes and steak on the plate, then fries an egg in the pan and adds that on top of the rice.

First comment on her post: Is your son a long haul trucker?

Gold!

Another one that had me laughing out loud:

There's a "God" FB page. The description the administrator of the page gives is "comedian." There's often a lot to laugh at on that page, not just the posts, but the comments on the post.

So God posted:

 

Something that would really shock Jesus if he came back today.

And one of the comments on that post:

You used to be able to buy a double cheeseburger at McDonald's for a dollar.

Yeah, I'm thinking this guy didn't really understand the assignment.

 

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

Menopausal Mother 

On the Border

Chocolate Peppermint Pie

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

1 cup mint chocolate chip ice cream

7 chocolate graham crackers

3 TBSP sugar

4 TBSP butter, melted

2/3 cup heavy cream

1 tsp cornstarch

2 tsp powdered sugar

1/2 tsp peppermint extract

2 drops red food coloring

1/4 cup milk

1 box (3.95 oz) York instant pudding mix

Directions:

*Place the ice crem in a bowl on the counter to thaw.

*NOTE: crust can be made a day ahead. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Lightly grease a 10 inch pie plate.

*Crush the graham crackers and sugar in a food processor until you have crumbs. Add the melted butter and process until incorporated.

*Press the crumbs into the bottom and partway up the sides of the pie plate. Bake for 6 minutes. Cool completely.

*Beat the heavy cream until soft peaks form. Add the cornstarch and powdered sugar and beat until stiff peaks hold. Set aside.

*Once the ice cream is liquid, whisk in the milk, then the pudding mix. Whisk for about a minute. Fold in 1/2 cup of the whipped cream, spread evenly into the pie crust and refrigerate.

*To the remaining whipped cream, add the peppermint extract and red food coloring. Mix until incorporate, place into a piping bag and pipe onto pie. Refrigerate for an hour. Store leftovers, covered, in the refrigerator.

Breakfast for Breakfast: 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! 

PurDude comes home for a few weeks each year right around now, from just before Thanksgiving to the beginning of December. I always serve his favorite meals, snacks, ad desserts. It's a lot, so I start stocking up on the groceries I'll need ahead of time.

Me: I was talking to PurDude, we haven't had bacon wrapped fillets in a really long time. I'm going to add them to the menu this year.

Hubs: Sounds good to me, I love them, and we haven't had them in a while.

Me: Well, they're super expensive. 

Hubs: All meat is expensive.

Me: Yeah, but the bacon wrapped fillets cost a fortune, so will the prime rib we always get when he's home. And those thick rib eyes aren't cheap either.

Hubs: You only live once.
Me: I'm pretty sure the next part of that quote isn't "so you may as well eat all the meats."

It's rare that I get the chance to see all of the sports teams I want to see. Often, streaming channels buy the rights to a specific game, a channel we may or may not have. And it's difficult, in the Midwest, to pretty much ever get to see a Patriots game. But one Thursday:

Me: This is going to be a fun weekend, on Friday, the Purdue basketball game is streaming on a channel we have, on Saturday, Purdue football is on a channel we get, and we actually get the Patriots game on Sunday.

Hubs: That'll be three great days.

Me: Yeah! I'll probably lose my voice by Monday.

Hubs: So four great days. 

Sometimes you just need to limerick. Am I right?

There once was a woman from Boston, 

her baking obsession, got lost in,

she made some mistakes,

like completely flat cakes,

but perhaps that fact best be forgotten.

There once was a moron named trump,

whose actual surname is Dumpf,

teamed up with some jerks,

immorality among their quirks,

who say "how high" when dumpf says to jump.

In the spirit of the old saying "glutton for punishment," we were watching a Purdue football game, and they were playing the #1 team. 

During the game, they showed the Big Ten rankings.

Hubs: Poor Purdue, they're in last place.

Me: Yeah, but there's good news.

Hubs: How do you get good news out of being in last place?
Me: They're not in last place, they're tied for last place.

Hubs: As good news goes, that's a stretch.

You know that saying "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade?"

Sure hope those Purdue players like lemonade. A whole lot.

I don't eat breakfast, I'm a coffee in the morning girl. My family does, but none of them cook, so I always have bread, bagels, English muffins, an assortment of cereals, and oatmeal packets on hand. They know to fend for themselves.

But I do love breakfast, so I make it for dinner now and then, which makes everyone happy, including me.

I had an idea for a new recipe, a Breakfast Club Sandwich, which I thought might be a good brunch idea for over the holidays when I'd have a full house. I decided to give it a try yesterday morning.

Hubs came into the kitchen, went to grab a bowl for cereal and noticed I was cooking.

Hubs: What are you making?
Me: Breakfast.

Hubs: In the morning? 

Breakfast Club Sandwich

I have to admit, I'm a little freaked out. OK, a lot. I know all of our electronics can and are being use to track us and to target us. There is no such thing as privacy or anonymity.

But what happened last night took targeting to a whole new level.

I was in my room, flipping through the channels when I noticed a message in the lower left corner of the screen. It jarred me. I moved on with my channel surfing and found a show to watch.

Later, flipping through the channels again, although a different show was on, the message was there again. Now I'm starting to get concerned.

I took a picture with my cell phone, then googled the channel and the message. Nothing.

So, this is meant for me? And this is no subliminal message. Far from it, it's downright overt.

Should I make a run for it? Pull my sim card out of my phone and crush it, dye my hair, start wearing a ball cap, grab some cash and head for the border?

'Cause I don't think the idea of playing sitting duck is going to turn out well for me.

 

I'm not a fan of AI. In fact, I've said that AI is the next step in the extinction of humanity. 

But further than that it has, many times been just plain wrong. And I've heard of friends tell me that AI has stolen from both their books and articles they've written without permission or attribution.

We were watching a Purdue basketball game and there were a lot of players who were new to us.

Hubs: Who is that on the floor, #17?

Me: I'm not sure, I don't know who that is either.

Luckily, through Google, a whole lot of information is right at our fingertips. So I googled "which Purdue basketball player is wearing #17 this season?"

Top response on the page is AI, telling me that no Purdue basketball player currently wears #17.

That's either wrong, or Hubs and I are sharing a hallucination.

Fortunately, the Purdue website was able to tell me who it is.

I need a little advice from my girls:

I was watching TV, and a commercial came on for a Viagra substitute. It claimed to be easier to take, faster acting, bla bla bla. They ended their pitch with the promise of earning you a round of applause.

And I gotta know, like, is that a thing? Am I supposed to jump up and start clapping . . . you know . . . after?

 

I went to use my laptop and it was purring. Loudly. Fortunately, I'd been texting with PurDude.

Me: I have a problem. I think a cat is hiding in my laptop.

PurDude: I'm going to need an explanation.

Me: It's purring.

PurDude: Does it sound like a fan?
Me: Well, yeah.

PurDude: Then it's the fan.

Me: I've never heard it on before, and I've had this laptop for a year. 

PurDude: The fan turns on when the computer does something intensive.

Me: I wasn't even using it. So now I have a bigger problem.

PurDude: What's that?
Me: What was it doing behind my back?

Funny, he never answered me.

I had tried out a new recipe, a dessert. It was so easy, had very few ingredients, was no bake, and was topped with a chocolate whipped cream.

I had finally set it up for pictures the way I wanted, took out a large serving spoon, scooped out a serving and put it onto a plate.

Once all the pictures were taken, I needed to taste it to be sure it came out as I'd hoped. Since there was some on the serving spoon, I just took a big mouthful off of the spoon.

The doorbell rang. Perfect timing, I hate when I'm distracted while taking pictures, but I was done.

I answered the door, the salesman gave his spiel, all the while giving me a strange look. Whatever.

I declined, shut the door, and as I was walking away, glanced in the mirror next to the door.

Those strange looks? They probably had something to do with the big blob of whipped chocolate on the end of my nose.

Good thing I'll never have to face him again.

 

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

Menopausal Mother 

On the Border

Breakfast Club Sandwich

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients (per sandwich):

3 slices bread

2 TBSP butter

1 TBSP green onions, chopped

1 TBSP red pepper, chopped

2 eggs

2 TBSP milk

2 slices sharp cheddar cheese

2 pieces bacon

Directions:
*Preheat oven to a warm temperature, 200 degrees.

*Toast the bread. Butter them all on one side. Place in the oven to keep warm.

*Melt the remaining butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the green onions and red pepper. Cook and stir until they soften, about a minute or 2. While the vegetables are in the pan, whisk 1 of the eggs with the milk. Add to the pan.

*Omelet style, cook the eggs, flipping once. Fold into quarters.

*Place one slice of toast, butter side up, onto an oven safe serving plate. Top with the omelet, then one slice of cheese, a second slice of toast, and the second slice of cheese. Return to the oven and keep warm.

*In the same skillet, cook the bacon. Drain, cut in half, place on top of the the second slice of cheese on the sandwich. Keep warm.

*In the same skillet again, fry the egg to your liking. Place it on the bacon, top with your final slice of toast (butter side down), cut into quarters (add long toothpicks if you want, to hold the sandwich together) and serve.