Exciting and Exhausting: Fly on the Wall

 

Welcome to our monthly Fly on the Wall, a blog post written in snippets. Marcia, Diane, Sarah 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! 

This month's Fly on the Wall is going to be different from how I've written them over the past 14 (wow, has it been 14?) years. Usually my posts are little humorous snippets of family conversations and situations. But this past month (and all the way into next) has seen a huge change around here. 

Exciting, (stressful), and exhausting.

Actually, back in 2018, when my youngest son had graduated from college and started his job, he rented an apartment downtown. I completely furnished, stocked, and decorated it in one weekend. I wrote about it here: Home with an H.

And I thought that was exciting and exhausting. Pffft, turns out that was nothing.

One year later, his company sent him to live in Boulder to work at a wholly owned subsidiary, a tech company. A few months ago, they sold that company and were moving some of the employees back here. My son among them.

One week after my last Fly on the Wall post, he bought his first house. Sight unseen. His real estate broker is the owner of a real estate office and a friend of Hubs'. The market is insane, houses were being sold after just a few days on the market. Especially in the trendy areas where PurDude wanted to live.

But his broker (who, weird coincidence, has both the same first and middle name as my son) found a house, viewed it, videoed it, and had PurDude put in an offer that day. 

Great location (sort of, only 10 minutes to work but 30 minutes from us), in a historic, iconic, charming, and desirable neighborhood with a walkable lifestyle and close knit community.

A few days later, the offer was accepted pending the outcome of the inspection. But the house is over 100 years old and although the people who owned it before the current owners clearly loved and took care of it, the current (for the past 2 1/2 years) owners obviously did not. His broker took Hubs and I to the house and my comment when I left was that this house is a diamond in the rough.

I could see the beautiful diamond beneath, but oh how apprehensive I was about all that rough.

Everything had to happen at warp speed. The offer was accepted at the end of April, but the sellers had changed the purchase date from end of June (PurDude's choice) to the end of May. Yikes.

The inspection was done and there was a list of items that we felt had to be addressed. We weren't sure that the sellers would take care of the issues, as the owners have moved either out of town or possibly out of the country. If not, they'd have to offer money and we'd (I'd) have a ton more work to do, dealing not just with the changes PurDude wanted to make, but all of the necessary repairs as well.

After the broker sent his repair list to the owners' broker, as I said, we had to wait for their response. I thought it would be immediate but, no. And the wait was excruciating. I kept my cell by my side every minute waiting to hear. Between the stress and the exhaustion, I was just not thinking straight.

 

I was upstairs in my bedroom reading chair trying to read, got up to go to the kitchen to attempt my favorite stress relief, baking, and grabbed my cell, of course.

It wasn't until I got to the kitchen and started the Blueberry Upside Down Coffee Cake that I realized that my cell was still upstairs. Apparently, I'd brought my water bottle. To the kitchen.

Ugh, it was a long 5 days.

 

Blueberry Upside Down Coffee Cake

PurDude is very concrete and literal. And I am sarcastic. It makes for an interesting relationship.

When he finally called five days later, I didn't answer the phone with "hello." 

Me: It's about time you called, I haven't peed in five days.

He laughed. Laughed!

He may be concrete and literal, but that kid gets me.

 

Bad news: The owners, as I'd feared, were not going to do anything on our list.

Good news: They offered money for us to do them.

Bad news: We all had three different numbers. PurDude's broker estimated what the list would cost. I had a different number in mind, 50% more than the broker, because there could be unknowns. And then there was the amount the owners offered. Less than both of our numbers.

Good news: He made a counter offer (at my higher number), and, working for us, the sellers were running out of time to meet their closing deadline.

Bad news: They didn't agree to my number.

Good news: They came just barely below it. A deal was made!

Bad news: PurDude would be here for a week before going back to Boulder for 6 weeks. We got as many quotes from 10 different trades and started scheduling out the work. Then PurDude went back to Colorado and the rest was up to me.

We were eating dinner when suddenly I yelled out:

Me: Trades!

Hubs: What?

Me: Trades!

Hubs: Can you use a few more words?
Me: Remember the other day when I was telling you about all the people I'd have to get into the house to get quotes and I couldn't remember the word I wanted to use for those people so I said "professionals?"

Hubs: No . . .

Me: So let me get this straight, I couldn't remember the word, but you can't remember the whole conversation?

We're quite a pair, Hubs and I.

I'd seen pictures of the house when it sold in 2023, so I know it had been loved. But in the past 2 1/2 years, all of the boxwoods lining the front of the house were gone. In fact, most of the landscaping was sadly ignored. 

Worse, they had not cleaned out the a/c unit, change a filter in the heating unit, cleaned the windows, serviced the fireplace, had shoddy work done in the basement, the carpet was filthy and ripped in one place. So much general upkeep had to be done. 

And then there was the scope of work we were doing that were not on the inspection list, but PurDude's vision to make the house his. We were hoping to take down a wall to expand 2 rooms into one. We were ripping up the carpet and hoping the wood floors could be salvaged. He was painting the hallway and master bedroom (which had wallpaper), etc, etc.

And a 6 week timeline before moving day.

PurDude is a type B, wing it kinda guy. I'm a hyper organized type A. So I knew the electrician had to come in first to be sure the trades could safely use the electricity, HVAC next, they'd need the a/c working. Then painting. Contractor needed to let us know if we could take the wall down before the wood floors could be addressed. Then there was the plumber, fireplace, and all the rest.

So how much got done? How much is getting done? Everything going according to plan? 

I'll be publishing my July Fly on the Wall right around moving day. Hopefully I'll have an update, and pictures too. 

Fingers crossed.

 

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

Menopausal Mother 

On the Border 

Crazy Mama Llama

Blueberry Upside Down Coffee Cake

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

2 TBSP sugar

1 tsp cinnamon

1 pint blueberries

2 1/2 cups flour

1 cup sugar

1 tsp salt

1 TBSP baking powder

1TBSP powdered French vanilla creamer

1 1/4 cup milk

1/2 tsp vanilla

1/2 cup oil

1/4 cup sour cream

2 eggs

Directions:

*Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease an 8 X 8 baking dish. Mix together 2 TBSP sugar and 1 tsp of cinnamon, and dust the baking dish, bottom and sides, with half of this mixture. Set the other half aside.

*Wash the blueberries and pat them dry. Set aside 12 of them for later. Spread the remaining blueberries into the bottom of the baking dish.

*Mix the flour, remaining sugar, salt, baking powder, and powdered creamer in a bowl. Add the milk, vanilla, oil, sour cream, and eggs, mixing until fully incorporated.

*Pour about 2/3 of the batter over the blueberries. Sprinkle with the remaining cinnamon and sugar mixture and, using a toothpick, swirl just into the batter without disturbing the blueberries below.

*Top with the remaining batter. Dot with the reserved blueberries and push them gently into the batter.

*Bake for 50 - 60 minutes, until the center of the top springs back to the touch.

*Cool for 10 minutes. Run a knife along the edges, then a second time pulling in from the sides. Invert onto a serving plate.

*Store leftovers, covered, in the refrigerator.

Humor Me: 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! 

Don't you just hate when people try to finish your sentence before you can get your point across? Well, now we have electronics for that. 

I thought I'd heard something mentioned about a holiday on a Saturday in the middle of May. I didn't know of one, but I wouldn't want to miss a reason to celebrate. 

I know Mother's Day was on a Sunday, and Memorial Day is on a Monday. What was I missing?

So I decided to google the rest of the Saturdays in May starting with tomorrow. 

I googled "Sat May 23"

And before I could even finish my sentence with "holidays," google comes back with: 

"do you mean what is Barack Obama's SAT score?"

Ummm, no.

And another one:

I don't use the cloud, I find it difficult to even figure out how to pick one since my laptop is not an Apple and my iPad is.

But my laptop had been acting a little wonky and I do need to be sure I don't lose all of my files and documents and pictures. For now, I keep everything important on a memory stick PurDude moved everything to for me a year ago.

My older son uses an external hard drive. I decided to look into that as an option for me. So I googled: "does an external"

and before I even finished my sentence, Google made suggestions as to how I might finish that inquiry:

"hemorrhoid ever go away?"

Nope, not what I was going for. Not even close.

I think poor Hubs is getting senile. I'm not saying having to deal with me isn't a factor in his confusion, but still.

We have a VPN that we have to use on all electronics or we'll get hacked. Older Son had updated the VPN and it asked him to sign back in. He didn't know the log-in, so he called me over. I called Hubs over.

I gave College Boy the email account used for the login, it's Hubs' email, and the password. 

Then I turned to Hubs:

Me: You'll have to check your email, see if there's one from our VPN provider, see if a confirmation is required.

Hubs: Well, I was on my email about an hour ago and there was nothing from them.

Me (rolling my eyes): They wouldn't have emailed you an hour ago unless they have ESP.

Oy.

And later the same day:

I had tried out a new dessert recipe, using nectarines.

Me: Do you want to try out this recipe.

Hubs: What is it?

Me (showing it to him): It's a Nectarine Crumble.

Hubs: Yeah, I'll try it.

Me: Do you want me to heat it up or at room temperature?
Him: Heat it up.

Me: Do you want ice cream or whipped cream and/or caramel syrup?
Hubs: I'll have just whipped cream.

I place the bowl in front of him:

Hubs (looking down at the crumble): Now nectarines, those are oranges?

Me: No, that would be tangerines.

Oy.

I missed National Pistachio Day, it was in February, but I'm bringing out the pistachios today because you know what season we're heading into?

No-bake dessert season. 

Yes, that's a thing.

Cookouts, potlucks, graduation parties, block parties and soon (I hope) pool parties. 

And I've just come up with a new favorite. Try my Orange Pistachio No-Bake Bars for your next party occasion.

You can pretend it's February if it makes you happy. But personally? I'd think you're nuts.

Stop rolling your eyes, that was at least a little funny. Come on, humor me.

Orange Pistachio No-Bake Bars

There was a time when commercials were amusing, laugh out loud funny, even. Not any more. Or not deliberately, anyway.

I found myself laughing at a cell phone commercial the other day. Laughing at them, not with them.

The ad was for a Galaxy phone and was being marketed as having the world's first privacy display. Turns out, if you turn it away from the person next to you (the commercial had 2 women on their phones while on an elevator, one sort of looking over at the other), the screen goes dark so the other person can't see what you're doing.

Who wants to tell Galaxy that although it doesn't go dark, I could always just turn my phone away and no one else could see it.

Duh. LOL.

 

Hubs was at work and texted me to let me know he was coming home. When he walked in the door, he told me that there was something wrong with his phone and he could text but not call.

He showed me, standing next to me and trying to call my cell. He could not, and his phone said that he could make emergency calls only, he is not connected to a carrier. I tried calling him and my cell works, but I could not get through to him.

When we googled it, the suggestion was to power the phone off and then back on. If that didn't work, it could be a SIM card issue.

He pressed and held his power off button, but it wouldn't power off. Fortunately, Older Son was outside, and he came in to show us an alternate way to shut down the cell (who knew?). It worked. He called me and the call went through.

Next thing I know, he's downstairs calling my cell. He never does that, always just comes up. So I answered:

Me: Hello.

Hubs: Hello.

Me: Why are you calling me?
Hubs: Because I can.

When it comes to banking, I do it the old fashioned way. I keep a check register. I don't know of any other way to keep track of where we stand. I do go into the bank app weekly, mostly to be sure I don't see any debits that shouldn't be going out, and to add any credits that I know are being direct deposited, but the amounts vary. But there are auto debits, pending payments, and the rare check written that don't yet show up in the bank app, the check register being the best place to see the most comprehensive picture.

I had gone into the bank app last Friday and saw that there was a huge discrepancy between what I showed we had and what the bank showed. Yikes. And not in our favor (is it ever?) either. I ended up going back through the bank account line by line, and the check register line by line.

Turns out that the ending balance of a check register from 6 months ago showed one amount. And the number Hubs started the next check register was different. Very different.

Me: What did you do when you started this new check register, just pick out a number in your head?
Hubs: Oh, is that a bad thing?

Me: That depends, how dependent are you on the lights coming on when you flip the switch, and water being available when you're standing in the shower?

 

I've talked before about being infuriated with the lack of privacy when online. How, if I look at an item, I get tons of ads for that same item across social media.

You can also see it in recommendations for who I should follow on different social media platforms. Usually they are stores, often they are food related.

And as angry as I am at how those recommendations make it clear I'm being watched, I also get to laugh when they get it so very wrong.

Like this week, twitter (no, I don't call it X), just suggested that I might like to follow Burger King Indonesia.

Yeah, you may need to work on that algorithm. You could not be any further off base.

I started this post with a little humor about Google's suggested ending to some of my queries. I'm going to end today with some suggestions to made up questions. I picked a few random questions, just to see what might pop up. Could be funny, right?

I asked: What time does . . . Google answered: McDonald's breakfast end?

     McDonald's? I thought I was supposed to be a fan of Burger King Indonesia.

I asked: How many times . . . Google answered: should I poop a day?

     Don't want to know, but is there a number? Maybe I should know.

I asked: Where are . . . Google answered: the rams from?

     Seems these bighorn sheep originally came from Siberia. So, if I'm ever on Jeopardy and it comes up . . .

I asked: Could I do . . . Google answered: one more immediately?

     We're not talking about poops again, are we?

I asked: Can a call . . . Google answered: duck be potty trained?

     Apparently not, seems they don't have a sphincter muscle.

OK, I may have too much time on my hands, but at least I'm not obsessed with a certain body function (I'm looking at you, Google).

 

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

Menopausal Mother 

On the Border

Orange Pistachio No-Bake Bars

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

1 1/4 cups graham cracker crumbs, divided

5 TBSP butter, melted

1 box (3 oz) orange jello mix

1/4 cup orange juice

1/3 cup canned mandarin oranges, drained, patted dry, chopped

1 box (3.4 oz) pistachio pudding mix

1 3/4 cups milk

8 oz cream cheese, softened

3/4 cup powdered sugar, divided

3/4 cup heavy cream

3/4 cup pistachios, peeled and finely chopped

Directions:

*Grease an 8 X 11 baking dish.

*Dissolve orange jello mix in 1 cup of boiling water, mix in the orange juice, and refrigerate.

*Mix the graham cracker crumbs with the melted butter and press into the bottom of the prepared baking dish. Refrigerate.

*Whisk together the milk and the pistachio pudding. Set aside.

*Beat the cream cheese with 1/2 cup of powdered sugar, then beat in 1 1/4 cups of the pudding, reserving the remaining pudding for another layer.

*Separately, beat the remaining powdered sugar and the heavy cream until stiff peaks hold. Fold 1 cup of the whipped cream into the cream cheese/pudding mixture. Carefully spread evenly over the crust, top with half of the chopped pistachios, and refrigerate for 15 minutes.

*When set, sprinkle the mandarin orange pieces onto the pistachios, then whisk 1/4 cup of the whipped cream into the jello. Carefully pour evenly into the pan (the pistachios and oranges will mix into the jello) and refrigerate for 10 minutes.

*Fold the remaining whipped cream into the remaining pudding and layer into the pan. Decorate the top with the remaining chopped pistachios.

*Refrigerate for at least 3 hours before slicing. Store leftovers, covered, in the refrigerator.

I DO Know: 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! 

Apparently Hubs had some paperwork coming to the house. I wasn't aware of it, but he let me know the morning it was due to arrive.

Hubs: FedEx will be dropping off an envelope today, they'll need a signature.

Me: Then you better plan to be here to get it.

Hubs: Why, are you going out?
Me: No, it's Wednesday.

Hubs: And?
Me: I'm doing laundry.

Hubs: And?
Me: I don't answer the door when I'm wearing my doing laundry clothes.

Hubs: {{blink, blink}}.

Well, I mean you all have doing laundry clothes too, right? And you wouldn't open the door wearing them either, would you?

Although they're rarely right, Hubs has gotten me into the habit of checking the weather app now and then. I actually have it set to 3 cities: where I live, where PurDude lives, and where my mom lives.

I saw that the forecast for my area was dismal, but PurDude's was even worse. We were texting that morning, as we always do:

Me: It's going to be cold and rainy here. Looks like you're getting some sleep?

PurDude: Because your weather makes me tired?

Me: Sleet. Not sleep, sleet. Sheesh!

I was on a local store's website looking for an electric toothbrush head replacement. Somehow, what came up was . . . teeth? 

Teeth? One size fits all? Available at the grocery store? And it seems, from their advertising, that they're designed for minimal speech disruption. 

That's a hard pass. I won't be buying dentures at the grocery store. I'll stick to my G-d given choppers, thanks.

What's next? Over the counter IUDs?

 

We generally don't play the lottery, but when it gets high enough, it's hard to resist. The Powerball had gotten way past high enough, close to the billions. We played and I was fully expecting to win. At least something, right?

 

Wrong, Hubs and I both got just one number each. Two people won and obviously it wasn't us. I was sorely disappointed. Why couldn't it have been me?

 

I know, I'll ask Google.  

 

So I typed in "why didn't I win," and as always, Google gives options as to what I might be looking for based on common queries, trends, and my search history. Top option they offered? Why didn't I win the sperm race?

 

Umm, no. Not what I was going for. Now I'm spending way too much time wondering both how many people ask that for it to be a common query, or what my personal search history says about me.

 

The answer to either one of those, I really don't want to know. 

Hubs needed some oil for the car. It's european oil that you can't find everywhere, but our local Walmart has it, and at a great price. I ordered it on the morning of the 5th, and it was due to be delivered that day by 10:00 pm. I was watching the order through the day and in large letters it said "arriving by 10:00 pm," then in tiny letters under that it said "searching for a driver." Well, that can't be good. Especially since Hubs needs that oil.

At 9:30 pm, they updated the order to "delayed." They sent an email saying they'd do everything they can to get it to us within two days. Not going to work. 

The next morning, Friday, the 6th, Hubs decided he'd have to go out and get it himself if it wasn't coming by noon. Every time I checked, there wasn't an update.

Just before noon, I updated Hubs:

Me: Looks like Walmart put us in a time machine.

Hubs: What?
Me: Yes, the order updated.

Hubs: What does that have to do with a time machine?

Me: The update is that it's due to arrive by 1:30 pm, Thursday March 5th.

Hubs: That's yesterday.

Me: Hence the time machine . . .

Italian Party Sub

We were going to watch a Purdue basketball game. Hubs had been in his man cave watching an earlier game, which was going into overtime. I didn't care, I follow teams, not sports.

 

He came into the den just before the Purdue game was about to start. He looked up and saw I had the TV on and the game going into overtime on the screen.

 

Hubs: What channel is Purdue on?
Me: This one, that's why I have this channel on.

Hubs: Oh, I thought you put this channel on because you were being nice, knowing I was interested in the overtime game. 

Me: No, I'm not that nice. 

 

I thought I was joking but I didn't hear him disagree . . . 

 

I notice Hubs walking around, seemingly randomly:

Me: What are you doing?
Hubs: Looking for my glasses.

Me: When did you have them last?
Hubs: I don't know.

Now, normally I'd laugh at him, tell him he's getting old, but it turns out I don't think it's so funny.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I have my moments, even posted about it on my Baking In A Tornado FB page:

So yeah, you won't catch me laughing. Crying maybe, but not laughing.

You know I love mysteries and I recently was challenged with one myself. The Case of the Stowaway Bird.

I really like unsalted peanuts in the shell. I haven't seen them in a store for quite a long time (other than priced as if it were gold. 

Hubs was in a hardware store and gave me a call. They had a 5# bag of peanuts for about $6. Sounds like they're for squirrels. He told me that they have them for squirrels also, but these are for people. Although a 5# bag will last pretty much forever, we decided he'd get them.

I had a few here and there the first few days. One day, I felt a stick in the bag. I poured some of the peanuts onto the counter and out came the stick. And a bird.

A bird?

These peanuts had a stowaway. And since they're grown and processed in North Carolina, I have to wonder what bird would leave that climate for winter in the Midwest.

I may need to do some investigating.

A text between PurDude and I:

Me: I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but dad is a cereal killer.

PurDude: What are you talking about?

Me: He's caused irreparable harm.

PurDude: I doubt it.

Me: I have proof:

A few minutes later, Hubs comes up from his man cave:

Hubs: What's going on?
Me: What are you talking about?

Hubs: PurDude just texted me.

Me: OK . . .

Hubs: Here's what he said . . . "is mom off her meds?"

Speaking of someone who is serially responsible for the murder of Americans, attacked and dragged away while just trying to live their lives in the cities they call home:

In last month's post, A Whole Hole, I questioned the intent of a news show praphic of trump. I certainly know what I thought about the situation, but the producers? Not positive. Could go either way.

But the next graphic I saw on the same show made it pretty clear.

Yes, that dope is an a-hole. And we all know it.

 

 

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

Menopausal Mother 

On the Border

Italian Party Sub

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

6 oz grape tomatoes

2 TBSP Italian salad dressing

1 (14 - 16 oz) Italian Loaf, unsliced

4 TBSP butter

1/2 tsp garlic powder

6 oz shredded cheddar, gouda, and gruyere cheese mixture

10 slices deli black forest ham

10 slices deli roasted chicken

10 slices thin sliced pepperoni

1/2 cup pepperocini slices

1 cup spinach

8 slices provolone

Directions:

*Cut the tomatoes in half, mix with the Italian dressing and set aside.

*Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.

*Slice the Italian loaf in half, lengthwise. Leaving about a 1 inch border, hollow out most (but not all) of the bread from the bottom, creating a boat. Leaving a 1 inch border, scrape out just some of the bread from the top.

*Mix together the melted butter and garlic powder. Brush about 2/3 of this mixture onto the bottom of the loaf.

*Into the bottom of the loaf, layer the shredded cheese mixture, followed by the ham slices, folded in half, the roasted chicken slices, folded in half, and the pepperoni slices.

*Top with the tomatoes mixed with the salad dressing, the pepperoncini slices, the spinach, and finally the provolone.

*Top with the remaining half of the bread. Brush the remaining butter and garlic powder over the top.

*Wrap tightly in heavy tin foil. Bake for 1/2 hour. Uncoover the top and bake for another 10 minutes.