The Briefcase Stalemate: 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! 

I'm sure I don't have to tell you that Halloween was just a few weeks after my last Fly on the Wall post. I've mentioned a few times that I'd had a couple of surgical procedures to my face and was feeling self-conscious. 

So for giving out candy to the kids on Halloween, I'd put on more makeup than I do most days. And I got the kindest compliment. Almost.

A young teenager made a comment when I was handing her candy:

Trick or Treater: Wow, your make up looks great.

Me (smiling, feeling pretty for the first time in a long time): That's so nice of you to say. Thank you.

Trick or Treater: I don't know how you did it, but those scars on your face look so real.

We had a ton of trick or treaters this year, over 150. All adorable, most really polite.

I like how many of the parents of the really young kids, like 4 years old and under, came up close to the door, reminding their children of their manners, teaching them to say "thank you."

But I did admonish one father for falling down on his teaching responsibilities.

His child, probably right around 4 years old, didn't have a bag, but held out his hand for the treat, which I gave to him.

Little Boy (loudly and with glee): I got a candy!

Me (looking disapprovingly at the dad): Well, that is the whole point . . .

A boy came by, a young teenager, wearing a baseball uniform, the Texas Rangers. Poor kid, not one we knew, so he'd have no way of knowing whose lived here.

And, obviously wasn't quite used to my sense of humor either.

Me (handing him a candy): If that were a Red Sox uniform, I would have given you two.

Boy: {{blink, blink}}

Me: But then if it had been a Yankees uniform, I would have given you none.

He never did say anything. But I'm guessing he's gonna skip my house next year.

Speaking of the Yankees . . .

College Boy buys and sells limited release and rare albums. He appreciates most genres of music, but his favorites are hop hop and rap. Enmeshed in the genre, he follows many mostly unknown but extremely talented underground artists.

One of his absolute favorites, KA, produces his own albums and pretty much only sells them in a one day pop up store in NYC. In the end of September, KA released his newest work, and College Boy actually flew to NYC for the weekend to go to the pop up. He met up with a number of other fans from all over the country he knew from online communities, and a few who live in NY.

One of the NY residents rented bicycles for the group and showed them around the city. As they were going by, he pointed out Yankee stadium.

Friend: That's Yankee Stadium, it's almost the end of the season, but we could catch a game if you guys want.

College Boy: Not me, my mom would kill me.

And I would!

PS: I have a lot to say about KA, about College Boy and his trip to NYC, and the connections he made. Maybe one day I'll write about it, but that time isn't now. 

To KA's wife Mimi, his mother, sister, and all the fans who love him:

"May you live a nice long life, hope it's beautiful."

I had tried out a new recipe, Fudgy Peppermint Rounds. When Hubs walked through the kitchen, I had them on the counter and on the table, setting up different options for picture taking. Not at all unusual. When I was done, of course, I cleaned up and put everything away.

Later that day, Hubs walks in the kitchen:

Hubs: Where are your balls?

Me: Is this a game? I'll show you mine . . .

Fudgy Peppermint Rounds

Hubs came home from work, changed his clothes, and went back out to the garage. He was there a while. When he came in, I asked what he had been doing. 

Hubs: I put my briefcase on the floor behind the driver's seat and the briefcase zipper got stuck on the netting on the cargo pocket behind the seat.

Me: Did you get it off?
Hubs: No, and I don't want to cut the netting, I'll work on it after dinner.

After dinner I asked him if he wanted me to take a look at it. Once I realized that the netting was caught, not in the teeth of the zipper, but the top of the zipper. I got it unhooked pretty easily.

Hubs: Thanks, I probably would have been out there for hours.

Me: You're welcome.

And he was welcome until a few hours later when we were arguing over . . . pretty much nothing.

Me: I have to win this argument, you owe me. 

Hubs: What do you mean I owe you?

Me: If it weren't for me, you'd still be in the back seat of the car, bent up like a pretzel, trying to release your briefcase.

Hubs: Yeah, but there's another way to look at it.

Me: Oh?

Hubs: If you hadn't gotten my briefcase unstuck, I'd still be out there and we never would have had this argument. So it's your fault we're even arguing at all.

I thought I'd had an easy win, but turns out I got caught up in a briefcase stalemate.

 

My generation, well, me anyway, have a hard time keeping up with technology. Getting the hang of something that's new can take time.

My mom recently finally gave up her landline and although she's had a cell phone forever. she never texted. Now she does. Well, she's trying anyway.

She hadn't been feeling well, so I texted her the next morning.

Me: How was last night? Did you sleep?

Mom: Feeling much better. Should be discharged soon.

Me: Discharged?

Mom: Meaning I will not need her any more.

Me: I think you have my sister and I confused. I missed the whole "discharged" conversation.

Mom: It's under your name. Anyway, I said she thinks I'm almost done.

Me: I don't know who she is and what you're almost done with. If nothing else, this conversation would make a very funny Abbot and Costello routine.

Me: The nurse was here. Has been taking care of the cut on my leg.

Me: Oh, that explains a lot.

As I said, she's trying.

Speaking of texts . . . 

Since College Boy buys so many albums, he gets a ton of packages, pretty much daily. 

Early one Tuesday morning before work, he sent me a text:

College Boy: Got this text this morning. Supposed to be from the post office. I'm not clicking on anything, pretty sure it's a scam, I'll look at it when I get to work.

Me: Ha, ha, ha, "Hope your day is filled with peace and productivity," sounds just like the USPS.

College Boy: Oh, lol, I hadn't even read through the whole thing yet.

I love teasing Hubs. He takes everything so literally, which makes it even more fun. 

He had gone in to work, but hadn’t planned on working the whole day. I thought he might be home around noon, but whatever, didn’t matter to me, he’d be home by dinner time. At around 2:00 he called me from his cell.

Hubs: Just letting you know, I’m getting gas.

Me: Thanks for the warning, stop and get some Beano or Gas-X on the way home.

Hubs: No, I meant . . .

All humor aside, as we all know, there was an election a few weeks ago.

I sat up all night long in horror, getting little if no sleep. The next morning, I really didn't know what to say, so I posted this to FB:

I'm exhausted and, honestly, I thought I'd have no words this morning, but I do have one. Ashamed.

Now, of course, time has passed and I've been able to internalize some of the ramifications, and consequences of 4 more years of chaos, bigotry, and hatred and I have more words. Many more words, but we'll leave it at that. Ashamed.

 

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

Menopausal Mother 

On the Border

Fudgy Peppermint Rounds

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

1 large box (24 oz) Little Debbie Fudge Rounds

35 starlight mints hard candies

about 20 oz candy melts, chocolate, red, or pink

Directions:
*Unwrap the fudge rounds and crush in a bowl.

*Crush 5 of the mints and set aside for topping. Crush the remaining 30 mints and add to the bowl with the fudge rounds. Mix.

*Using your hands, squeezing tightly so they stay together, form the crushed cookie/candy mixure into 36 balls. Place individually onto parchment paper and refrigerate for at least an hour. 

*Melt the candy melts in a bowl or mug according to package directions. Working quickly, place each ball onto a fork, dip into the candy melts to cover completely. Allow the excess to drip off, then using a knife, ease off of the fork onto parchment paper. Immediately, sprinkle with a little of the remaining crushed mints and allow to set.

*Note: wipe off the fork and the knife after dipping each ball. If the candy melts in the bowl start to harden, microwave for 15 - 20 seconds until it liquifies again.

Spam Me or Me Spam

  

 

 I'm being picked on. Insulted. Called names. Isolated. Bullied even. 

I hate spam. We all hate spam. And the worst thing about spam is that it grows like weeds. My email is clogged, spam choking the life out of all that mail box.

 

Most of it isn't even mine. Someone, somewhere, somehow, got my son's name and associated it with my email account. No way to trace how that happened, I bet professional genetic geneologists couldn't even trace the history of this one. And we all know what happened next, whoever started this nightmare capitalized on it. Yup, they sold PurDude's name and MY email address. To everyone. And, apparently, their brother. I get at least 15 solicitations a day. And they're not even for me.

 

For the record: PurDude already has car insurance, never drank water at Camp Lejeune before he was born, doesn't need a cookwear set, doesn't have bad credit, isn't interested in gadgets that "will blow your mind", does not need to replace any windows, already has a financial advisor, and is not quite ready for medicare.

 

So, spam sucks.  

And what's worse than spam? Being called spam. And I am.

Me? Little old me? Just sitting here minding my own business writing my blog. You know, sharing a story, an opinion (OK, many opinions), a joke, a poem, a recipe . . .

Mocha Patties

And when someone is kind enough to read my blog, check out my recipe, and leave a comment, letting me know they were here, and sharing a thought? I answer. Right here on the blog. It's only polite.

Or spam.

Let me tell you here, that I have comment moderation. Since I review each comment and approve of it before it goes live on my blog, there's really no need for a comment spam folder. But far be it for me to tell Google how to run their hosting site. Lately, I've been finding (and some of my friends with blogs have had the same experience) that Google has been putting the comments of long time readers into my spam folder. Not always, it's inconsistent, I can't seem to figure out the logic (does Google operate on logic?). So I check that folder a number of times a day.

I also need to mention that I respond to comments the day they are made. I approve the comment, I see it post on my blog, and I respond right then and there, noting that my own response has been published before I leave the page.

But I noticed, in the beginning of October, a response to a comment I'd made on my blog back in September was suddenly in my spam file. My own comment. From at least a week before. It had been on my blog when I published it, hadn't been in the spam folder in the week since, but suddenly it had picked up and moved.

 

 

 

Weird. A fluke.

And then it happened again. And again.

You see what's happening here, right? I'm being picked on. Insulted. Called names. Isolated. Bullied even.

 

Google is calling me spam. 

 

And what, exactly are my options? There's got to be a way to stop this misidentification, regain my good name.

 

Maybe I should contact Melania. Wasn't she supposed to be using her bully pulpit (not to be confused with her bully "husband") to stop internet bullying (seriously, how absurd is that)?

 

But, of course, that's not an option, turns out Melania was too busy destroying Jackie's rose garden.  

There has to be some way to make Google stop calling me spam.

 

Oh, I know, I'll Google it.

 

 

Mocha Patties        

                                                                                      ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients: 

3/4 cup espresso baking chips

4 oz cream cheese, softened

1/2 tsp vanilla

2 1/4 cups powdered sugar

1 oz semi sweet chocolate

4 oz chocolate candy melts or chocolate bark

Directions:
*Melt the espresso baking chips in the microwave, at 20 second intervals, stirring in between, until smooth.

*Whisk in the cream cheese and vanilla. Mix in 1 1/2 cups of powdered sugar. Once incorporated, begin mixing the remaining 3/4 cup powdered sugar in, then move to the counter and knead until completely incorporated.

*Roll the dough into 24 evenly sized balls. Flatten between the palms of your hands, place onto a tray and refrigerate for 1 hour.

*Melt together the semi sweet chocolate and the candy melts or bark until smooth. 

*Remove the patties from the refrigerator. Place each, individually, onto a fork, dip into the melted chocolate and place on parchment paper to set.

 

Team Desserts: Secret Subject Swap

 

 

 

 

Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This month 4 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts. Read through mine and at the bottom you’ll find links to all of today’s other Secret Subject participants.

 

 

 

My subject is: Turkey or ham? Why?
It was submitted by: Rena of The Diary of an Alzheimer's Caregiver.

You know what my answer to turkey or ham is? Dessert.

 

Of course I'll get to that, but, since you asked, let's start with the meal. I assume you're talking about Christmas, because Thanksgiving is turkey, always turkey.

 

Coming from a Jewish home, we don't really celebrate Christmas. Well, we do in that we have the ski mountains to ourselves, followed by having the Chinese restaurants to ourselves. Well worth celebrating.

 

But, since I now live in the flat Midwest, have no family (nor ski mountain) nearby, I actually do a big dinner on Christmas day. We're here together, there's a fire in the fireplace, sports on TV, and cocktails flowing. Perfect for a big formal dinner.

 

I have to mention here that although I'm Jewish, we're not kosher. Phew, since our favorite food, a no-no, is lobster. So it's not that we didn't eat a ham sandwich or have pepperoni on our pizza, but I have to admit I don't think my mom ever made a ham. So it's not surprising that I never had either. For many people, well me anyway, we tend to at least start off making the foods we remember from our childhood. Especially when those foods hold traditional family holiday significance.

Over the years though, we've created some of our own traditions as a family. There's a lot I do that's just like my mom did, but some things have evolved. Like, I love my Mom's cornbread and cracker stuffing, but Hubs grew up with sausage stuffing. So on Thanksgiving, I make my version of Mom's cornbread stuffing, Fall Harvest Stuffing. And on Christmas, I make my version of a sausage stuffing. Nothing at all like what Hubs grew up with, but everything's better when you add Grand Marnier, right?

And then there's the ham.

 

When the boys were little, I had a friend (ironically, she was also raised Jewish), who, around holiday time, was looking for a specific brand and type of ham. I know it was spiral sliced, I think it was a honey ham, and I can't remember the brand. Anyway, we did find it, and our family were her guests when she served it. It was really good.

 

The next year I bought one and gave it a try. I heated it low and slow with a glaze I'd come up with, I'm sure it was a typical mustard, maple, orange glaze. We had it for dinner, and then the leftovers went on for miles. I served it, I think over a year's time, in many ways: soups, sandwiches, casseroles, you name it.

 

And as much as we enjoyed it, I haven't thought to do it again.

 

So for the most part, our family tradition is a turkey for Thanksgiving, Crusted Prime Rib (and Latkes, of course) for Hanukkah, another turkey on Christmas day, and an appetizer buffet for New Year's Eve.

But truly, it's all about the desserts. 

 

(Rustic) Chocolate Peanut Butter Truffles

My mom is the queen of desserts. Family dinners, extended family holidays, big get togethers, we all brought something of our choosing. But Mom, she was always assigned dessert. 

 

And wow, did she do dessert, and not just one, a whole assortment. There were pies, some fruit, some chocolate, made completely from scratch. And on top of that, there was always a cookie tray, full of dessert bars and all different kinds of cookies. Mom made sure to include everyone's favorites. 

So it shouldn't be any big surprise that, although I put a lot of time and effort into a traditional holiday meal, it's the desserts that have the most meaning for me. It's where I get to show my creativity, touch, as my mom did, on everyone's flavor pairing favorites, and express my own version of "food is love."

Just like mom.

 

 

Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver 

Climaxed

Part-time Working Hockey Mom 

(Rustic) Chocolate Peanut Butter Truffles        

                                                                                      ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
24 sandwich cookies

2 oz cream cheese

1/3 cup Nutella

1 cup creamy peanut butter 

1/4 cup powdered sugar

1 oz chocolate almond bark

2 oz semi sweet chocolate

3 oz chocolate almond bark

36 peanut halves

Directions:
*In a food processor, blend the sandwich cookies, cream cheese, Nutella, peanut butter and powdered sugar until the cookies are broken up and the mixture is grainy.

*Place a piece of plastic wrap flat into the bottom and up the sides of an 8 X 8 pan. Lightly grease the bottom, and press the peant butter mixture firmly into the pan, evening out the top.

*Melt 1 oz chocolate almond bark and spread evenly over the peanut butter mixture in the pan. Refrigerate 1 hour.

*Using the plastic wrap, remove the truffles from the pan. Move to a cutting board, trim off the rounded edges, and cut into 36 squares.

*Place a lightly greased cooking rack onto a piece of wax paper. Arrange the truffle squares, leaving space between each, onto the cooling rack.

*Melt the semisweet chocolate with the remaining chocolate bark. Dollop onto the truffles, top each with a peanut half. Remove the truffles from the cooling rack and place onto parchment paper in the refrigerator. Once set, move to a closed container. Store in the refrigerator.

I Hope You're Cheating: Fly on the Wall

Welcome to a monthly Fly on the Wall group post. Today 4 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 laying down on the couch and wanted to check something on my laptop. I brought my knees up and balanced the laptop on my stomach, up against my knees. 

And, of course it fell. Forward. On top of my head.

And, of course, Hubs walks downstairs into the room while passing through to the basement and there I lay with a laptop over my face.

He doesn't say a word.

Me (removing the laptop from my face: Nothing?
Hubs: Nothing.

How sweet of him not to embarrass me any more than I already am. 

Three seconds later, from the basement I can hear him laughing his ass off.

My husband thinks I'm nuts when he catches me yelling at inanimate objects (and he may just be right), but some things just drive me nuts.

We've been having trouble with our internet cutting out lately. One morning we didn't have internet and it didn't seem to be coming back on. I called the company, but that always involves long waits, which just serves to further frustrate me.

I was on hold when one of their incessant recorded messages came on telling me that the wait would be longer than usual (funny how it always is) but I could get immediate assistance on their web site, www. . . To which I began yelling "I. DON'T. HAVE. INTERNET."

Sometimes I may be acting crazy, but sometimes I do have a point.

Sometimes I think my husband is finally catching up, he did finally actually learn how to text, and then sometimes I think he's still in the dark ages.

I was on my laptop talking about some spam I got recently. It claimed to be from my bank but I was saying that the dead give-away is that the email address it came from was a whole chain of letters and numbers. Definitely not the email address on legitimate emails from my bank.

Hubs: There's a way to know for sure if the email is legitimate.
Me: Like the nonsensical email address it came from?
Hubs: No, wave your mouse over it and see if it's an https or not.
Me: That's for a website, I'm talking about an email address.
Hubs: But if it says https it's secure.
Me: You really don't know how this email thing works, do you.
Hubs: Well it works for me.

Okey Dokey.

College Boy was home for dinner. I've mentioned it before, his absolute favorite meal is spaghetti with my Hearty Meat Sauce. He saw that I was working on Halloween meals and treats:

College Boy: I have an idea, make spaghetti and have it coming out of a head like brains.
Me: Good try but I did that already a few years ago, my Spaghetti Brains. See:

College Boy: Not the best picture mom, I think you should do it again.

Well, he's certainly persistent (and consistent).

Does this happen in your house too? Whenever someone wants something, anything, in the pantry or the refrigerator, "looking" seems to mean just opening the door and then immediately yelling out to me:

Where is the (insert item here)?
or

I can't find the (insert item here).
or
Do we have any (insert item here)?
or
What happened to the (insert item here)?
or 
Are we all out of (insert item here)?

But the one and only thing they're not going to do is actually look.   

Jack-O-Lantern Treat Bowls

Me: I hope you're cheating on me.
Hubs: Huh?
Me: I said I hope you're cheating.
Hubs: I'm sure this makes sense to you somehow . . .
Me: I just did the laundry and there were about 20 long hairs stuck to your work shirt. Either I'm going bald or you're cheating. I certainly hope you're cheating.
Hubs: Is there a "fifth amendment" option here, or just those two?

Hubs gets out of the shower on a Saturday morning and, apparently thinking I'm a weatherman, calls to me.

Hubs: Can I wear shorts this morning?
Me: Sure.

Hubs dresses, goes downstairs, walks out front, comes back in and puts on jeans.

Hubs: It's freezing out there. You said I could wear shorts.
Me: Like so many things in life, just because you can doesn't mean you should.

He was not amused.

I generally have a pretty decent vocabulary but one Saturday afternoon I found myself at a loss.

Me: Be careful if you're going out back, the next door neighbor is arching.
Hubs: Arching?
Me: Archering?
Hubs: Archering?
Me: Shooting pointy sticks out of a bow towards the big target he has back there.
Hubs: Oh, gotcha.

Does anyone know, is there a word for that?

 

A couple of nights a week Hubs has late meetings. On those nights I don't cook, but I do leave his a plate of leftovers from earlier in the week on the counter that he microwaves when he gets home. One night the leftovers were something I felt would not reheat well in the microwave so I stuck the food in the oven and just set a plate on the counter for him, not the norm. He came home and I was sitting on the couch with my back to him. At some point I realized that there was silence in the kitchen. I got up and walked in. Hubs was looking back and forth between his empty plate and the microwave, his empty plate and the microwave. 

Hubs: Ummm. I know I must have done something . . .
Me: Dinner's in the oven. 
Hubs: Phew. So I didn't do anything?
Me: Did you?
Hubs: Can I think about it while I eat?
Me: Just for the record, "no" would have been a less concerning answer.

The problem with cold rainy Fall weekends is that couples tend to be stuck indoors. Together. All weekend.

Me: Want to go for a walk?
Hubs (puts on his shoes and a jacket, then sees me still working in the kitchen): You coming with me?
Me: No, I'll watch from the window . . .

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

Menopausal Mother 
Never Ever Give Up Hope 
Spatulas on Parade

Jack-O-Lantern Treat Bowls

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

NOTE: 6 small balloons are needed for this recipe

Ingredients:
1 package candy melts, your choice of color
1 fruit roll up snack
treats of your choice
1 large package gummy worms

Directions: 
*Rinse the balloons and pat dry. Blow them up to about the width (on the bottom) of the bowls you want to make. I vary sizes. Knot the tops.
*Unroll the fruit snacks. Using a sharp knife, cut 12 small triangles for eyes and 6 ovals or strips for mouths. Set aside.
*Melt the candy melts as per package directions until smooth when stirred.
*Place a piece of parchment paper onto a baking sheet.
*Individually, holding each balloon by the knot, dip each one into the candy melts. Twirl around to coat all sides of approximately the bottom half of each balloon. It does not have to be even, they look better when they're not. 
*Allow the excess to drip off and back into the bowl. Place the balloons on the parchment paper and hold for a few seconds until they stick. Allow to sit for 2 - 3 minutes. Before they set completely, gently decorate with the fruit snack "eyes" and "mouths" then refrigerate until fully set.
*Using a pin, carefully poke a small hole into the balloons and once they deflate, remove them from the bowls. Fill the bowls with treats of your choice and top with the gummy worms.