The Starfish and the Lobster: Fly on the Wall

Welcome to a monthly Fly on the Wall group post. elcome to a monthly Fly on the Wall group post. Today 2 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.

A couple of neighbors were walking by when I came outside to give Hubs some interesting news:

Me: KC DFAd JBJ.

Hubs: Oh.

Neighbor, walking away, whispering to her husband: Do they have their own language?

No, we were just speaking baseball.

 

 

I had been out for a while when Hubs texted me:

Hubs: Where are you?

Me: Who knows?

I could tell he wasn't sure what to say to that, because there was a long pause before I heard from him again:

Hubs: You OK?
Me: Sure, I've got plenty of credit cards.

Didn't hear from him again. I bet he was thinking that maybe what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

And he's probably right. 

Until the bills come in . . .

We had gone for a walk, when suddenly I started laughing.

Me (sort of under my breath): I don't think that's how it goes.

Hubs: How what goes?

Me: "What doesn't," it's "what doesn't." 

Hubs: What are you talking about?

Me: Listen to her . . .

We were walking past a little girl, playing on her driveway, skipping around, singing at the top of her lungs "whatever kills you makes you stronger . . ."

So cute, but so funny.

We have 4 bathrooms, 2 upstairs, which have multiple light fixtures above the mirror, 1 bathroom on the main level, and one in the basement.

Me: There's a bulb out in the upstairs bathroom.

Hubs (grabbing a light bulb): Which one?

Me (rolling my eyes): The one that doesn't light up when you flip the switch on.

Hubs: I meant which bathroom.

Oh.

I had tried out a new dessert, Peaches and Cream Bars. I liked how they looked until Hubs walked up, then I was second guessing my decorating choice.

Hubs: What's that?
Me: A new dessert experiment. Want to try it?

Hubs: I don't think so.

Me: What? Why? You never turn down a dessert.

Hubs: Umm, I'm full?

Me: OK, what's really going on?

Hubs: I know you like to come up with new and interesting ideas, but you may have thought a little too far outside the box for me on this one.

Me: What do you mean? You don't even know what it is.

Hubs: Well, I can guess. 

Me: You can guess?

Hubs: You usually decorate the top to show what the main ingredient is.

Me: And?
Hubs: That's a starfish . . .

Peaches & Cream Bars

Hubs is walking towards the kitchen:

Hubs: Do we have coffee?

Me (rolling my eyes): Of course we have coffee.

Hubs goes over to the coffee pot, looks at it, looks around.

Hubs: I thought we had coffee.

Me: We do.

Hubs: I don't see it.

Me: I didn't say it was made.

OK, maybe that was mean. But in my defense, I hadn't had my coffee yet.

Our basement had been a place where a whole lot of kids hung out when the boys were in high school. Now it's Hubs' man cave.

Sometimes, if he's working on his laptop or there's something he wants to see on TV, he may take his coffee down to the man cave in the morning.

One afternoon I had gone down there to take something out of the spare fridge.

Me: Did you spill your coffee on the carpet on the stairs?
Hubs: I don't think so.

Me: There's a stain going down the top 3 stairs.

Hubs: Must have been the kids.

Me (laughing): Your days of blaming the kids kinda ended when they . . . you know . . . moved out.

Hubs had brought in the groceries and sat at the counter as I was unpacking them, which doesn't usually end well.

Hubs: Oh, you bought ice cream.

Me: You can't have it, it's for a recipe.

Hubs: OK, how about those cookies?
Me: You can't have those either, they're for a recipe.

Hubs: I'm hungry, what can I have?

Me (unpacking the next bag): Can I interest you in an egg?

Hubs: That sounds good, you going to cook it for me?

He looks up to see me glaring at him.

Hubs: OK, my bad, I'll just send myself to my room.

Yeah, his room is a basement with a 57 inch TV, a pool table, pinball, and a fully stocked fridge.

And I'm standing in the kitchen putting away groceries.

There is definitely something wrong with this picture.

I read a lot. Often in the afternoon, but always at night before I go to sleep. I "buy" free books and load them onto my Kindle and iPad. Most always, the books are mysteries. I especially love when I can get a multibook series, it's like binge watching a TV show, and I can get invested in the characters over multiple books.

I'd just started a 6 book bundle.

Hubs: What are you reading?
Me: I'm halfway through the first book of a 6 book bundle.

Hubs: Do you like it?
Me: Yes, great so far, it's well written and I really like the main character.

Not much later I came stomping into the kitchen, muttering under my breath.

Hubs: I thought you were reading.

Me: I was, but I deleted the books.

Hubs: Why? You said you liked the main character.

Me: Not any more. She has poor taste.

Hubs: Poor taste?
Me: She said she liked warm water lobster better than Maine lobster.

Hubs: You know it's just one line from a fictional character in a book, right?
Me: I don't care, that's a dealbreaker, I've lost all respect for her.

Hubs: Well I hope the next series you try out has characters with higher culinary standards.

Me: Me too! That's a couple of wasted hours of my life I'm never getting back.

We recently switched cell phone providers (funny post about that coming up soon). Hubs signed us up and got us all new sim cards. When he got home, we all checked out our new service, calling and texting each other. Everything was fine.

The next day, Hubs texted me, asking me to respond if I got his text because he can't call me.

Can't call me? I tried to call him and couldn't, got a message that I had reached the cell provider's payment line. I tried calling College Boy, same results.

I was very concerned that none of us would be reachable, but Hubs came home with some good news/bad news. Good news, he and College boy could make and receive calls. The bad news, of course, is that it seemed to be just me. I kept trying all night with no luck.

The next morning, on the way to work, before going to the cell store, he called me. My phone rang and I answered. I called him back, too. And we texted.

Hubs was trying to think of all of these technical reasons for the glitch, but I knew exactly what had happened. My old phone, like my old self, just needed a good night's sleep.

 

 

 

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

Menopausal Mother

Peaches & Cream Bars

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
6 oz shelled pecan halves

5 TBSP brown sugar, divided

1/8 tsp plus 1/4 tsp cinnamon, divided

2 TBSP butter, melted

8 oz cream cheese, softened

1/2 tsp vanilla

1 box (3 oz) peach jello

1 large or 2 small ripe peaches

1 container (5.3 oz) peach yogurt

OPT: peach slices for decoration and/or whipped cream for serving

Directions:

*Grease an 8 X 8 baking dish. Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

*Place the pecans, 2 TBSP brown sugar, and 1/8 tsp cinnamon in a food processor and pulse until they resemble  

crumbs. While pulsing, add the melted butter through the chute and pulse a few more times until incorporated.

*Press into the bottom of the pan and bake for 10 minutes. Cool on the counter for 20 minutes, then refrigerate until cold.

*Beat the cream cheese, vanilla, remaining brown sugar, and remaining cinnamon until smooth. Carefully spread over cooled crust. Refrigerate.

*Boil 1 cup of water. Dissolve the peach jello poweder and set aside for 10 minutes to cool slightly. 

*Pit, skin, and chop the peaches. Sprinkle evenly over the cream cheese layer.

*Whisk the yogurt into the jello. Pour evenly over thepeaches and refrigerate for at least 45 minutes before cutting.

*OPT: top with peach slices, serve with whipped cream.

Gotta Have Pancakes: Fly on the Wall

 Welcome to a monthly Fly on the Wall group post. Today 3 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 told a few stories in last month's Fly on the Wall about me becoming a bit forgetful. It's not all the time, but it's here and there and I do get frustrated by it.

 

I had read something recently that said that if you brush your teeth with your non-dominant hand, it helps support connections in your brain. OK, maybe true, maybe not, but what have I got to lose?

 

So, I started brushing my teeth with my left hand. And, ah, the power of suggestion, but I could feel myself getting brighter, more alert.

 

One morning I was in a rush and just brushed my teeth with my dominant hand. Later that day:

Hubs: Did you go out into the garage?
Me: Yes, why?

Hubs: You forgot to turn the light off out there.

Me: That's because I didn't brush my teeth with my left hand.

Hubs: {{blink, blink}}.

 

I did eventually explain to Hubs that I had read that brushing my teeth with my left hand was supposed to help my memory. I don't think he quite got the point.

A few days later:

Me: Did you forget to stop and get the mail on the way home?
Hubs: I did. So, I guess that brain theory doesn't work, I've been brushing my teeth with my left hand.

Me: But you're left-handed.

 

I was standing at the kitchen slider watching the leaves dropping from the trees along the wood line behind my house when I started singing. I didn't realize that College Boy was in the house.

Me (singing Moondance): "And all the leaves on the trees are falling, to the sound of the breezes that blow."

College Boy: You know why so many of them are falling like that right?
Me: The breezes?
College Boy: No, they're trying to escape your singing.

Now that's just mean. Possibly true, but definitely mean.

 

College Boy had come in through the garage, put his shoes in his locker in the laundry room and was headed upstairs when I thought I caught a glimpse of something.

Me: Let me see the bottom of your foot. Are you wearing socks with holes in them?

College Boy (holding up his foot, with no shame, btw): Yeah.

 

 

Me: That's more hole than sock. Throw that out.

College Boy: Want to see the other sock? It doesn't have one single hole.

Me: Well, that's good.

College Boy (holding up the other foot): It has two!

As a mother I need to ask, why do we even bother trying?

College Boy (calling down from upstairs): Are you making pancakes?

Me: No. 

College Boy: What do I smell?
Me: I'm baking a cake.

College Boy: Why do I smell pancakes?

Me: I don't know, all I'm baking right now is a cake.

College Boy: Is it pancake flavored?
Me: No.

College Boy: Well, now I want pancakes.

Me: I've got cake . . .

But damn that power of suggestion. Now I, too, just had to have pancakes.

Pecan Oatmeal Pancakes

I wrote a few weeks ago about PurDude surprising me on my birthday. While he was here, I guess I inadvertently chipped away at his view of his mom. I was sitting in the den when a friend sent in some word prompts for the Use Your Words challenge I run. 

 

Me (to myself): Hmmm.

PurDude: What?
Me: Oh, I was looking at the words a friend sent me and I've never heard this one before.

PurDude: What do you mean?
Me: I have to Google this word, I don't know it.

PurDude: But you know all the words.

Me: What?

PurDude: You know all the words.

Me: I don't know this one.

PurDude: What else have I believed that's actually untrue?
Me: Huh?

PurDude: That's great, now I'm going to have to reevaluate my entire childhood.

 

The time came, all to fast, when he had to make the drive back to Boulder. We had a conversation that's become pretty standard for us.

 

PurDude: I'm going to go back home tomorrow.

Me: No.

PurDude: Yeah, I have to.

Me: No.

PurDude: You knew I wasn't staying forever, right?
Me: No.

PurDude: I have my weekly food service package coming Sunday morning and I have to work on Monday.

Me: No.

PurDude: Based on this conversation, I think I need to apologize for every conversation we had when I was a toddler.

 

College Boy was in the kitchen early, and loudly banging around getting out a bowl, spoon, and glass for his breakfast.

Me: You're making an awful lot of noise.

College Boy: I'm just getting my breakfast.

Me: Stop being obstreperous.

College Boy: What's that?
Me: Google it, I had to. And I ended up ruining your brother's whole childhood.

College Boy: Ruined his childhood?

Me: Yeah, he thought I was perfect, now he knows I'm not.

College Boy: Well you won't ruin my childhood, I already know you're not perfect.

Me: Thanks. Or not.

 

 

I was working on a recipe for my Triple Chocolate Dome Cake and wasn't sure what size the bowl was that I planned to use. I Googled "pyrex bowl sizes," knowing I could figure it out from there. The first thing that came up was "bong joint sizes."

Me: Hmm, that's weird.

College Boy: What?
Me: I was googling bowl sizes and the first thing that came up was something about there being 3 bong joint sizes. I thought you either smoked a bong or a joint, but I've never heard of a bong joint.

College Boy: There are bongs that can accommodate joints.

Me: Well, I guess I learned something new today.

College Boy: There are actually joint menorahs, you light all the joint candles at once.

Me: OK. More information that I needed. But I guess I'm now well prepared if the subject ever comes up on Jeopardy.

College Boy went to college nearby, just an hour away. In his locker in the laundry room I'd keep a bag and fill it with supplies for him that he'd take back to school after a visit.

 

PurDude, as you know, went to school 9 hours away. He couldn't stop by for visits, we'd have to fly him home. I'd always tell him not to pack toiletries, I'd have them here for him and he could take them back with him. I'm not sure why I felt bad about not supplementing his basics on a more regular basis since his budget while away was that I had access to his bank account and whenever it started to get depleted, I transferred money in and built it back up.

 

He's been out of college for years, but after that first year he moved 8 hours away in the other direction. Whenever he comes home I tell him the same thing, don't bring toiletries, I'll have a fresh supply here and he can take them with him.

 

While PurDude was home for my birthday, I gathered up supplies for him, but 10 days later when he was packing to leave, I notice he'd not packed the deodorant.  

Me: Don't forget to take the deodorant.

PurDude: I don't need it.

Me: Just put it in your cabinet at home and you'll have an extra there.

PurDude: Not necessary.

Me: Why not?

PurDude: I'm still working on the supply of deodorant from you during my college days!

 

 

 

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

Menopausal Mother 

Wandering Web Designer 

 

Pecan Oatmeal Pancakes

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients (makes 6 - 8 pancakes):

2/3 cup flour

1/3 cup quick oats

2 TBSP brown sugar

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

1/3 cup chopped pecans

5.3 oz container of Greek yogurt, plain or the flavor of your choice, I used toasted coconut flavor 

1/3 cup milk

1/4 tsp almond extract

1 egg

6 TBSP butter, divided

 

Directions:
*Melt 2 TBSP butter and set aside.

*Place the quick oats in a food processor and process until fine.

*Whisk together the flour, crushed oats, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and pecans in a large bowl.

*Add the melted butter to the dry ingredients, along with the yogurt, milk, almond extract, and egg. Mix just until incorporated, do not over mix.

*Heat 1/2 TBSP butter in a saute pan over medium heat. When hot, add a little less than 1/4 cup pancake batter and spread from the center to a circle about 4 inches in diameter.

*Once the batter starts to bubble, flip the pancake over and lower the temperature a little. Cook until browned, about 2 minutes. Remove from pan, keep warm, and repeat with the remaining butter and batter.

The First Million

Phew, we did it. Made it through the holiday season. Well, most of it anyway. There's still tonight, but a lot of advanced prepping and a few bottles of Prosecco tell me that the stresses of the holiday season are basically behind me. 

But no rest for the weary (and oh hell, am I weary), it's also the time to start thinking ahead to next year. No I'm not one of those people who are already working their way down their 2020 gift shopping list. What's on my mind isn't buying (yeah, I can just hear Hubs' sigh of relief), I'm thinking about selling. Especially since, I'm sorry to say, I haven't even made my first million yet. So I'm working on some products for next holiday season. Since everyone else is doing it, I'm jumping on the giving-the-elf-on-the-shelf-a-run-for-its-money bandwagon.

Not for the first time, either. I had a thought many years ago, even wrote a post called Menorah on the Door-ah. I was on the right track, since there's now a Mensch on the Bench which, I have to admit is a much better idea than the ones I had. I mean, a menorah on your door may give you a concussion, but turns out that's not the bad behavior deterrent moms are looking for at holiday time {{sigh}}. So close and yet so far.

But this year sold me on trying again. I mean if someone's making money selling Snoop on a Stoop and DeVito on a Dorito, even I have a chance wouldn't you say? Easy peasy. 

I just need one little thing from you. No, I'm not looking for investors (although if you want to volunteer I won't turn you away). I'm actually asking for assistance of the market research type. You know, like you're my control group. Here's the situation, I've narrowed it down to my top 3 options. Two target parents with a specific need and the third for those parents who reach the end of their rope during holiday season (yeah, I can see you nodding your head). It makes sense, though, initially anyway, that I'm going to have to focus on just one, the one that will best encourage those kids to behave dammit. Take a look at my prototypes and then let me know, which one is my ticket to the millionaires' club?


1. For those moms whose kids need to be reminded to tell the truth, there's KellyAnne in the Frying Pan.

KellyAnne in the Frying Pan

2. For those families whose children know right from wrong, but appear to be having issues in the execution, there's Bill Barr in a Car (going far).

Bill Barr in a Car (going far)

3. This one's for all those moms who are at the tearing-your-hair-out stage, and aren't ashamed to scare the bejeezus out of those kids if that's what it takes. Come on, don't judge, I'm not alone here. This guy is the epitome of knowing when the little ones have been bad or good because he sees you everywhere! No more calls from the teacher, the neighbor, the coach . . . Clown on the Town is on the job.

Clown on the Town 

I think this one may just be it. Covers all the bases, doesn't he?

While you're contemplating your vote, I'm off to cook some apples for tomorrow afternoon's Apple Pie Eggnog Milkshakes. Wishing a safe New Year's Eve and a happy and healthy 2020 to you and yours.

Apple Pie Eggnog Milkshake

PS: I'd like to ask you one more favor. Whether you've liked my Baking In A Tornado FB page or not, can you just check it? Friends are reporting (and I've seen) that FB is deleting "likes" from me. These are friends and family who know they've liked the page, even still get notifications of my posts in their news feed, but have found when they look, that they do not currently register as liking it. So if you want to support the blog, please go to my page and be sure the "like" button and "thumbs up" are blue and says "liked". Thank you.

Apple Pie Eggnog Milkshake

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients (makes 3 - 4):
2 apples, cored, peeled and sliced
1 TBSP butter
3 TBSP brown sugar
3/4 tsp cinnamon
2 TBSP caramel sauce (ice cream topping)
1/2 cup eggnog (can substitute milk)
4 cups vanilla ice cream
1/4 cup Fireball Whiskey (can omit)

OPT: whipped cream and/or caramel sauce for serving 

Directions:
*Melt the butter over medium heat in a saute pan. Add the apples, brown sugar and cinnamon.
*Cook, stirring now and then, until the apples are soft, about 10 - 15 minutes. Remove from heat, mix in the caramel sauce and the eggnog. Set aside to cool a little, about 10 minutes. 
*Once the apple mixture has cooled a little, place the ice cream, whiskey (if using) and apple mixture into a blender. Blend until smooth. Move the blender jar to the freezer and freeze for one hour or until it thickens to your preferred consistency.
*OPT: top with whipped cream and/or caramel sauce  for serving.

No Pants Day, the Dress (or not) Rehearsal

No Pants Day is actually a thing. Not a joke, like people really do it. It's celebrated, yes, in the exact way that you think, on the first Friday in May. The history is a little sketchy, I've read more than one story about its inception, but one that I hear is that it started out at a college university as a way to welcome Spring and to celebrate the end of spring semester. I can remember my college days so I get that, the sheer joy of letting loose and letting off some steam and just being silly when the semester nears its end, spring has finally arrived and summer break is around the corner. But it then caught on and is celebrated in multiple other countries. Explain that.

Personally, I think there is a much more practical reason for the day. It's a baby step. For those not able to comfortably just jump into tomorrow's holiday, World Naked Gardening Day, it's a lead in. Today no pants, tomorrow no . . . ummm  . . . anything. So this is your the dress (or not) rehearsal, tomorrow's the real deal, live audience and all. My thought process is, if you have the balls (well, not necessarily literally) to walk around without any pants on, you're already part way there. Tomorrow all you have to do is lose the top and drop the tidy whities more restrictive accouterments.

Don't panic, no reason to think about tomorrow quite yet, let's just do today. 

Let me just say that as holidays go, I think this one is my spirit animal. It's easier than you think, freeing really. No choosing which pants go with that shirt. No fretting because the pants that go with that shirt are in the wash. No holding your breath to get that top snap snapped (is that just me after a long cold winter?). No worrying about having to politely listen to the whole spiel of that door to door salesman (and probably no worrying about them ever returning to your house again either). No worrying about splitting that back seam bending over to get that blob on the floor or having to pre-treat that stain on your pants leg when batter flies out of the mixer. Pants free baking, that could catch on.

Strawberry Margarita Cake  

 
Now the other part of No Pants Day is that, when you're out and about, you're supposed to pretend that you're unaware that you have no pants on. Speaking as someone who once went to work without realizing that she forgot to put a bra on (further proof that I am not a morning person, btw) until heading, at a rapid speed, downstairs to a meeting, I'm definitely equipped to handle this particular requirement.

Despite the enthusiastic zeal with which I approach celebrating today's "preparation" holiday, I still don't know about tomorrow's World Naked Gardening Day. Not necessarily for the reason you think. It isn't actually the naked part that's stopping me (lie), it's the gardening part. You see, the previous owners of our house planted these beautiful dwarf burning bushes along our walkway. I've got some vulnerable body parts and, well, those bushes have thorns. 

 Before you go, click on this link another No Pants Day celebration: 

Dawn of Spatulas on Parade shares Knock Your Pants Off Orange Cake.

Strawberry Margarita Cake         
                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
1 cup chopped strawberries
2 TBSP tequila
1 TBSP orange liqueur
3 TBSP sweetened lime juice

1 box yellow cake mix
1 cup water
1 tsp lime zest
1/3 cup oil
3 eggs

1 can (16 oz) vanilla frosting
1 TBSP tequila
2 TBSP orange liqueur

Directions:
*Mix the chopped strawberries with 2 TBSP tequila, 1 TBSP orange liqueur and 3 TBSP sweetened lime juice. Set aside for one hour, mixing now and then.
*Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour a 9 X 13 baking pan.
*Beat the cake mix, water, lime zest, oil and eggs for 2 minutes.
*Drain the strawberries well, reserving the liquid. Set the liquid aside. Mix the strawberries into the cake batter and spread into the prepared pan. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until the center springs back to the touch. Cool completely.
*Pierce the cake all over with a fork. Pour the reserved liquid over the cake and allow to soak in.
*Beat the prepared frosting with the remaining TBSP of tequila and the remaining 2 TBSP of orange liqueur. Spread over the cooled cake.