Plots and Prey: 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 had a bit of a harrowing experience recently. I was home alone, so I'd had a leisurely morning. Having finished my coffee, I was about to take a nice hot shower. Making sure the water was just how I like it, I jumped in and closed the glass door.

Well, I didn't exactly close it like I'd planned. When it was about 5 inches from being closed, it broke. Wouldn't budge, either way. And I was in there. Naked. Did I mention home alone? Picture that.

Actually, don't. You can take my word for it.

My leisurely morning had gone to hell. I was trapped. And phoning a friend wasn't an option.

Neither was shutting off the water (which was dripping onto the shower matt and floor), and standing in there naked for the rest of the day.

Unfortunately necessity was not the mother of invention this case, but desperation being what it is, I was finally able to jam the door open a few more inches and squeeze my way through. Into the puddle on my bathroom floor.

I may be, for the foreseeable future, taking nice leisurely baths for a long while now. After all, what could go wrong?

Don't answer that. 

It's baseball season! Or for me, Red Sox season since that's the only baseball I watch. I'd mentioned in the past that for Mother's Day, PurDude buys me a subscription to all the Red Sox games. That includes the pre-season games.

We'd been watching a pre-season game, where many different pitchers were trying out for a spot once the season started. After an outing, one of those pitchers was asked about a change in his form. He explained that the coaches had been working with him on how he starts his pitches, in an effort to keep his arm attached to his body.

I'm thinking that it's probably a good thing, athlete or not, to . . . you know . . . keep your arm attached to your body.

When one of the newer players came to bat, the announcers said his name and we were confused. They put his name up on the screen as he stepped into the batter's box, and we were still confused: Jhostynxon.

Now my name is Karen, so believe me, I'm not one to make fun of people's names. But the announcers said that the player was asked about his name and said that his parents couldn't decide between two names, so ended up taking letters from both.

Say what?

First, those parents should have their parent cards revoked.

But second, can you just imagine him in first grade, when all the kids are first learning to write their names?

Little Bob (working hard at forming his letters): B - o - b

Little Sue (working hard at forming her letters): S - u - e

Little Dan (working hard at forming his letters): D - a - n

Little Jhostynxon: I quit.

Watch what you say . . .

Saying "talk to the hand" is an insult that can hurt. But did you know that talking about the hand in an insulting way can boomerang that hurt right back to you?

I know. Now. 

I used to have my nails done regularly, but for years now I've just been doing them myself. I generally keep up with them. I was going through my Insta feed and saw a few people posting some really pretty nail art, most spring inspired.

 

I looked down at my own nails and was mortified. I was way overdue for a touch-up. Clearly they'd been peeling for I don't know how long.

So I posted a picture with a snarky comment about how beautiful {{cough, cough}} my hand looked.

 

that line at the bottom of my hand is just shade from the window treatment slats, btw

I guess my hand took offense, along the lines of "you think that's horrible? Oh, honey, old my beer."

By the time I realized that I had an infection under my rings, the whole finger was so swollen I couldn't get the rings off. It was painful, and my whole hand was becoming involved. It was an excruciating process, but I (with the help of a few medicinal shots of Patron) bit the bullet and ripped the rings off of my finger so I could treat the infection.

But I will never, I mean never, body shame an appendage again. Lesson learned. 

Hubs: These salmon patties are delicious.

Me: When I grilled salmon for dinner the other night, I made extra so we'd have leftovers. I think the grilled salmon makes a difference in the flavor.

Hubs: Are you going to put this recipe on your blog?
Me: Yes, since we are both happy with how they came out.

Hubs: I don't see you taking as many food pictures as you used to.

Me: Well, I used to post 8 to 9 times a month, now that I'm only posting once a month, I don't have to come up with as many new recipes.

Hubs: Now that you're only posting one a month, they have to be really good recipes.

Me: Are you saying I come up with not good recipes?

Hubs: Umm, quick question: will it work out better for me if I go out and buy you flowers? Or have them delivered?

Grilled Salmon Patties

The holidays came (very, very) early for College Boy. I was in our bank accounts and noticed he had 2 credits of almost $2300. When I looked at them, it made no sense to me, he always has a healthy balance on his account.

I asked him about it, and he had no idea what it was about. He can’t remember ever having had an issue with insufficient funds, and would absolutely remember (who wouldn’t?) if he’d ever been hit with a $2000 fee.

It was a weekend, Monday was a holiday, so he called the bank on Tuesday for clarification. They told him the deposits were legit, but couldn’t tell him what they were about. They offered to connect him to another department for more information. College Boy accepted, but hung up after holding for 40 minutes.

Now I love mysteries, you know that, but I greatly prefer for them to have an answer at the end. If not, it leaves me hanging, trying to come up with feasible scenarios in my head. Well that and, in this case, the hope that whatever did happen would happen to me too.

So I’ve been diligently checking my own account about 5 times a day, hoping that free money fairy might put $2300 in there too, for no apparent reason.

So far, no such luck.

But I do have a new earworm, that old Dire Straits song . . . "get your money for nothing . . ."

 

Not having learned my lesson after taunting the hand, seems a comment I'd made was taken as an insult (or a challenge) by Mother Nature.

 

I was saying, and it was true, that Florida had gotten more snow this winter than we had in the Midwest. 

 

Once again, I'd be treated to an "oh honey, hold my beer," moment.

 

It started to snow. And snow. And before you knew it, we had Florida beat. By a mile. 

And you know who everyone I'd originally joked with was blaming, right? Yup, me. 

If only I could use my power for good instead of evil.

 

 

So, it had been snowing. Yes, again. Apparently Mother Nature can really hold a grudge. Anyway, we were watching a basketball game, after which Hubs was going out to snow blow the driveway.

 

Me (pulling out a bottle of wine): I'd ask if you want a glass of wine, but I don't want you to be drunk blowing.

Hubs: {{blink, blink}}

Me: OK, that may not have come out right.

Hubs: I think maybe you're the one who should lay off the wine.

 

Yeah, he could make a case for that. 

Next thing you know, my neighbor is . . . well . . . lawn blowing.

So maybe that whole drunk blowing actually is a thing.

Finally it looked like the weather was starting to change. The sun had come out and we were starting to see some bare concrete on our front deck. In fact, the left side, that got more sun, was completely clear.

That afternoon, the Fed Ex guy made a delivery. Where do you think he choose to throw the album?

Did you guess?

 

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

Menopausal Mother 

On the Border

Grilled Salmon Patties

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

NOTE: this recipe requires the salmon to be cooled after grilled, so be sure to have a few hours between grilling and preparing the patties. I usually grill the salmon the night before.

Ingredients:

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

1/4 tsp paprika

1/8 tsp cayenne pepper

3/4# skin on salmon fillet

1 green onion

2 eggs

1/3 cup seasoned bread crumbs

1 cup corn flakes, crushed

1 TBSP oil

1 TBSP butter

OPT: sliced lemon or tartar sauce for serving

Directions:
*Mix together the salt, pepper, paprika, and cayenne. Sprinkle onto both sides of the salmon fillet.

*Heat the grill to medium. Place the salmon on the grill, flesh side down, and cook for 3 minutes. Flip the fillet over and grill, skin side down, until the fish is fully cooked and flakes when a fork is inserted into the center. How long it will take to cook will depend on the thickness of your fillet.

*Remove the salmon from the grill, remove and discard the skin. Chop the fillet and refrigerate in a bowl until cold (I refrigerate overnight).

*Chop the green onion. Mix the cooled salmon with the green onion, eggs, and bread crumbs. Using your hands, form into 6 balls.

*Individually, press each ball into the corn flakes to coat, flattening the balls into patties. Turn the patty over and coat the other side. Place wax paper onto a plate or tray, and refrigerate the patties for an hour.

*Add the oil and butter to a large skillet over medium heat. Once it starts to bubble, add the salmon patties. Cook for about 5 minutes, until the bottom is browned. Flip the patties over and turn the heat down a little if necessary. Cook another about 5 minutes until browned and the centers are warm. 

*OPT: serve with lemon slices and/or tartar sauce.

Midnight Message: Monthly Poetry Group

 

 

Last Friday of the month is for

Monthly Poetry Group to rhyme.

Diane, Mimi, and I take turns,

Message Me is the theme this time.

 

As usual, today I'll try,

a poem to write . . . or fudge.

Whether I'm successful or not,

you get to be the judge.  

 

Midnight Message

"Message me," the text had said,

it had me seeing red.

Was the middle of the night and I'd

been asleep, in bed.

Messages alert for me, 

always, 'cause . . . just in case.

Delete and block, the thing to do,

return dreams to my head space.

Just got back to sleep and my

chocolate breakfast dream,

when another alert came through, and I

thought that I would scream. 

 

Chocolate French Toast

"Message me," it said again,

not sure how that could be,

the delete and block was supposed to have 

permanently set me free.

Angry now I answered,

though really not too smart,

"who the hell are you," I said,

"how do I make you depart?"

"I just want to talk," he said.

I answered in no time,

"well, do you know that stalking is,

a serious legal crime?"

"Blocking me does nothing,"

was his scary retort.

"I can get through anything,

so forget a police report."

"As for who I am, perhaps,

a selfie explanation will do."

Ding went my cell phone alert,

a picture had come through.

"The picture is of nothing,

it's just completely blank.

And if you want the truth, I'm sick

of your stupid prank."

"The picture is of me," he said,

"I'm more transparent than most,

and I'm already departed, 'cause

the truth is, I'm a ghost."

Happy (almost) Halloween!

and perhaps it's time we started,

to give some thought to making friends,

with the invisible (semi)departed.

 

Before you go, stop by these blogs for more poetry:

 

On the Border

Messymimi's Meanderings

 

Chocolate French Toast

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
1/2 cup chocolate ice cream

2 eggs

1 tsp brewed coffee, cooled

1/4 tsp vanilla

1/4 tsp salt

7 slices white bread

3 1/2 TBSP butter

OPT: serve sprinkled with powdered sugar and/or with syrup.

Directions:
*Thaw the ice cream in a pie plate. Once liquid, whisk with the eggs, coffee, vanilla, and salt.

*Heat 1 TBSP over medium heat in a large skillet. Swirl to cover the bottom of the pan.

*One at a time, dip both sides of two slices of bread into the liquid in the pie plate. Place into the skillet and cook for about 3 minutes, until the bottom has browned. Flip over. Reduce heat a little if the pan gets too hot, and cook the other side for about another 3 minutes.

*Remove and keep warm. Repeat with the remaining butter and bread slices.

*OPT: serve sprinkled with powdered sugar and/or with syrup.

 

 

Swag Bag Sister Wife

 

Hubs went off at about 9:45 on a Saturday morning. By the time he got back, two things had occurred. First, I spent a very quiet day alone (yay). And second? Well, it's possible I gained a sister wife (ummm . . . boo?).

So, here's the deal: Hubs had recently decided to change our cell phone carrier. Big whoop, you're thinking, lots of people change their cell phone carriers. Well, we're old, so let's just say we tend to make things a lot more difficult than they need to be. Or one of us does, anyway.

First, Hubs spent 2 days researching carriers, prices, and coverage. Yes, with a pen and a notebook. Then he went into the store, met with a salesperson, and came home with 4 more pages of that notebook covered. Notebook in hand, he gave me a doctorate level dissertation on his findings. 

The company he'd chosen, if we were to come to the party, offered quite an impressive swag bag: they'd pay off all of our phones, we could get one line free, 20% off, free AAA, free Apple TV, free Netflix. It would save us thousands of dollars. 

In retrospect, I specifically remember that there was no offer of a sister wife in that swag bag. Just sayin'.

So, we ran it by College Boy, who was concerned. He uses his phone to purchase items that sometimes have a sale window of literally seconds. If it's at a time when he's on wifi, that's not a problem, but if the new hot spot is slower than our current service, he could lose out on drops.

Then we talked to PurDude, who didn't really care. But PurDude lives in another state so once we changed carriers, his sim card wouldn't work and he'd have to go to a local store to get his sim card switched. So, we'd have to coordinate the day and time with him, as he works part time at home and needs to be accessible to his team by phone throughout the day. This whole production was starting to feel very Mission Impossible-ish.

But we're not done making it more difficult than it needs to be yet. 

My phone is about 28 years old. Well, in dog years, anyway. Apparently there have been so many subsequent generations since I got it, that it could fill up a tree on ancestry(.)com. Hubs was hunting around online and found that with a new account, they were offering a new Razr flip phone. For free. Might make sense to replace mine.

So, off Hubs went on a Saturday morning. Since, on weekends, PurDude doesn't get up until the sun goes down, he'd just leave to get his new sim card whenever he woke. That works.

What didn't really work is that, with replacing my phone, Hubs had to take it with him. Leaving me in a silent house. 

And although I admit, I enjoyed the lack of ringing and dinging, even finished a book, I also have to admit that without any phone at my fingertips, I felt like I'd washed up on a deserted island. If I wanted to talk to anyone, I'd need to brush up on smoke signals.

Overly dramatic, you think? Not so much. 

One hour plus and he wasn't home. Over two hours and he wasn't home. At the three hour mark, I was starting to wonder if he'd make it home for dinner.

Skillet Chicken & Rice Dinner

 

After about 3 1/2 hours he finally walked in. With my old phone, not a new one (it had to be ordered). 

Me: Where have you been?

Hubs: You know where I've been, getting our cell service switched.

Me: For how long? I think I had 2 birthdays while you were gone.

Hubs (putting down his handy dandy notebook): There was a lot to go over.

Me: You just spent more than 3 hours with a salesperson?

Hubs: Yes.

Me: You know, in some countries that would be considered a common law marriage.

So, to recap: new provider, same old phone, researching my new responsibilities as a sister wife.

Guess I should set another place at the dinner table.

Skillet Chicken & Rice Dinner         

                                                                                      ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
2 lg boneless, skinless chicken breast halves

1 egg

1/2 cup flour

1 tsp salt, divided

1/2 tsp pepper, divided

3 TBSP canola oil

4 TBSP butter

1/2 onion, sliced

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 1/2 cups chicken broth

2 TBSP cooking sherry

6 oz frozen chopped spinach, defrosted and patted as dry as possible

4 oz mushrooms, sliced

1 1/4 cups cooked rice

Directions:
*Cut the chicken into bite sized chunks. Whisk the egg. Place the chicken and the egg into a gallon sized plastic bag. Manipulate so all the chicken is covered. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours.

*Whisk together the flour, 1/2 tsp of salt and 1/4 tsp pepper. Remove the chicken from the bag and coat with the flour mixture.

*Add the canola oil to a skillet over medium heat. Once hot, add the chicken with as little overlap as possible. Cook until the bottoms brown, about 4 minutes. Using tongs, flip the chicken pieces over. If the pan is getting too hot, lower the heat a little. 

*Cook the chicken, stirring now and then, for about another 3 minutes. Move the chicken to a plate and keep warm.

*Add the butter, onion, and garlic to the pan. Cook, scraping the flour bits up from the bottom of the pan until the onion starts to soften. Add the chicken broth, sherry, remaining salt and pepper, spinach, and mushrooms to the pan. Bring to a boil.

*Add the rice to the pan, mix, then add the chicken to the top. Cover, turn the heat down to low, and allow to simmer for 10 minutes. Take off the cover and mix. Make sure the chicken is completely cooked. If not, turn the stove off, return the cover to the pan and cook until the chicken is done.

 

Holiday Amnesia: 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: What is your motto to stay calm as we approach the holidays?
It was submitted by: Tamara of Part-time Working Hockey Mom.

 

My motto? People have mottos? And those mottos have a magical calming effect?

Is "oh, shit" a motto? Because a few short weeks ago, that's what I'd been saying most. Well, that and a few other choice words I won't mention, you can use your imagination. End result, didn't calm me at all. None. But then I'd had a horrendous time just before Thanksgiving. Which, for all intents and purposes was my entire holiday season.

 

And "tomorrow's another day," wasn't going to do anything but bring more dread. What next?

You see, with PurDude only able to come home for a few weeks this year, we would pack College Boy's birthday, Thanksgiving, and an early Hanukkah into those 2 weeks.

I'm a planner, down to the last detail. OK, you may say anal, but I'm going with planner. I buy for and prepare all of PurDude's favorite meals, sides, and desserts, along with College Boy's favorite birthday meal, our traditional family Thanksgiving meal, and our Hanukkah dinner. It takes a lot of planning, all worked out on my calendar, down to what needs to be done each day. Mostly I do it because if I can cut the whole couple of weeks worth of meals into bite sized (pun intended) work load pieces, the organization allows for me to spend as much time with my family as possible.

 

 

 

What is it they say about the best laid plans? Yeah, whatever. Because one week before Thanksgiving, it all went to shit. All of it. Day after day of one disaster after another. Compounding. And no amount of planning could fix it. Crying wasn't helping much either.

It's a story, a long story, and I'll tell it. Eventually. Right now I'm still too traumatized.

 

As far as mottos go, let me just say this: if you even think of bringing up "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger," you better do it from far away because you're sorely underestimating the proximity that had existed between me and my breaking point. 

 

My best chance at comfort this holiday season would be amnesia. 

 

Not even comfort food was providing comfort. Now that's dire.

 

Root Vegetable Soup

 

 

Although our major Hanukkah celebration is now in the record books, we'll still do something (less elaborate) to celebrate. And I'll do my normal Prosecco and appetizers New Year's Eve buffet. 

But now that I know there are mottos to help stay calm during the lead up to these celebrations, I'll have to try one out, see how it goes.

I'm thinking something along the lines of "when the going gets tough, the tough open the Prosecco early."

 

A self imposed amnesia of sorts.

Don't judge.

 

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

Root Vegetable Soup         

                                                                                 ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
2 TBSP olive oil

3/4 cup frozen chopped onion, thawed

1 tsp minced garlic

3 cups chicken broth

1/2 tsp cumin

1/2 tsp dried thyme

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

20 oz bag frozen root vegetables

2 cups half and half

OPT: seasoned croutons for garnish

Directions:
*Heat the olive oil in a large pot over medium heat until hot. Add the onion and garlic. Cook and stir for about 3 minutes.

*Add the chicken broth, cumin, thyme, salt and pepper to the pot. Bring to a boil, stirring now and then. 

*Add the frozen root vegetables, bring back to a boil, lower heat and simmer for about 20 minutes, until the vegetables are fork tender. 

*Carefully pour the soup into a blender or food processor. If needed, work in batches.

*Blend or process until the soup is smooth. Add the soup back into the pot over medium low heat, stir in the half and half. Cook until hot.

*OPT: garnish with seasoned croutons for serving.