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.

None by None: Word Counters

 

Counting my words again.

Today my fellow Word Counters and I are sharing our monthly group post. Each month, one group member picks a number between 12 and 50. All participating bloggers are then challenged to write something (or a few somethings, as the case may be) using that exact number of words. Today we share what we all came up with.

 This month's number is 27. 
It was chosen by Me.

As I've been doing in these Word Counters posts, I've chosen a theme and am using my word count multiple times in keeping with the theme. This month I've chosen the theme None by None.

~ Do you remember ant farms? Ever have one? Not me. Ever want one? Still not me. Especially not now, anyway, and definitely not on my upstairs landing.

~ It started with siding. When we had some replaced on the west side of the house, the worker accidentally broke our window. And replaced it, of course.

~ We had no problems. Actually, I was pretty happy, the original window didn't open, was just glass, but the new one opens for a nice cross breeze.

~ Fast forward about three years, when we noticed one day, a big blank ant was crawling down the wall under that window. Then later, another. Oh, no.

~ The ants were marching. One by one. And two by two. And lots by lots. According to google, looking for something sweet. That could be a problem.

Strawberry Banana Bread

~ Recon mission: identify ingress point. We knew it had to be around that window, but never saw exactly where. Choosing between kill and deter, we chose deter.

~ They don't like cinnamon (those insect heathens). So I although I rubbed the window ledge with it, I certainly wasn't sprinkling it on my wall and carpeting.

~ Don't know if that deterred some, but certainly not all. Plan B time. Hubs found a gentle, indoor safe insecticide. And they stopped. For a few hours . . .

~ Sorry, I'm not sharing my baked goods, wall, stairway, and even (how far do ants go?) my bed {{shudder}}. No more Mrs. Nice Girl, this is war.

~ Plan C: divide and conquer. Vinegar's another deterrent. I sprayed the window, wall, carpet. Hubs sprayed a stronger insecticide outside, in the rocks and up the house.

~ The ants aren't marching. Or they've changed course (hopefully not to my neighbor's house). All's quiet on the western front, but us? We stand at the ready. 

Here are links to the other Word Counters posts:

On the Border 

Messymimi’s Meanderings 

 Strawberry Banana Bread         

                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
1 overripe banana

1 ripe banana

1/4 cup oil

3/4 cup brown sugar

1 egg

2/3 cup strawberry yogurt

1 1/4 cups flour

3/4 tsp cinnamon, divided

1/4 tsp salt

3/4 tsp baking soda

1 tsp sugar

3 TBSP strawberry preserves

Directions:
*Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Grease a loaf pan.

*Set aside 4 slices from the center of the ripe banana and set aside. Hull and slice one of the strawberries and set aside.

*Mash the remaining ripe banana, along with the overripe banana in a bowl with a fork. Whisk in the oil, brown sugar, egg, and yogurt.

*Mix in the flour, 1/2 tsp of the cinnamon, salt, and baking soda. Hull and chop the remaining strawberries. Fold into the dough. 

*Pour the dough into the prepared loaf pan. Even out, then arrange the reserved sliced banana and strawberry onto the top.

*Mix together the remaining cinnamon and the tsp of sugar, sprinkle over the top.

*Bake for 55 - 60 minutes, until the center of the top springs back to the touch. 

*Cool in the pan for 10 minutes before running a knife around the edges and removing from the pan. Whisk the strawberry preserves to loosen. Paint onto the top of the bread using a pastry brush. Cool completely before slicing.

Long Lonesome Detour: Use Your Words

 

Today’s post is a monthly writing challenge. If you’re new here, this is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once. All of the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s  participating knows who got their words and in what direction the recipient will take them. Until now. 

At the end of this post you’ll find links to the other blogs featuring this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they got and how they used them.

I'm using:  lost ~ highway ~ dark ~ metallic ~ rosy ~ laughter
They were submitted by Jenniy of Climaxed.

 

 

                          
"On a long lonesome highway, east of Omaha." 

Wait. Lost, not long? 

OK. Lost on a long lonesome highway, east of Omaha.

Bob Seger "Turn the Page" earworm aside, I gotta tell you, if you're looking for a long lonesome highway, west of Omaha is the way to go.

East of Omaha, well, way, way east, is "Boston you're my home."

For those of you not in the know, that's a quote from one of Boston's iconic songs.

There are a few songs well known as being associated with Boston. Not exactly complimentary, but . . . One of them is Dirty Water," sung by the Standells. It's about the not so clean Charles River: 

"Down by the river,

down by the banks of the river Charles."
"That's where you'll find me,

along with lovers, muggers and thieves."
"Well, I love that dirty water,

Oh, oh, Boston you're my home."

Yeah, we're super proud of that one.

And then there's "Charlie on the M.T.A." (the Metropolitan Transit Authority, Boston's subway system) sung by The Kingston Trio. It's actually a really fun, funny, and political song about a man who got onto the M.T.A. and due to price increases could not get off:

"Charlie handed in his dime at the Kendall Square station,

and he changed for Jamaica Plain,

when he got there the conductor told him "one more nickel," 

Charlie couldn't get off of that train."

"Did he ever return?

No, he never returned, and is fate is still unlearned, poor old Charlie.

He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Boston,

he's the man who never returned."

Boston may be a place of beloved dirty water and never ending M.T.A. rides, but it is decidedly not a place where you'd find long lonesome highways. Unless it's first thing in the morning on New Year's day. Which is where I found myself many years ago.

I don't remember the exact year, certainly long before cell phones, which would have impacted my situation greatly. I think that I was home from college for winter break, and staying at my dad's house. He and his wife were going on vacation, they were leaving at dark o'clock in the morning of New Year's day, and guess who was elected to drive them to the airport.

If you know Boston traffic (or can even imagine it), you'll understand why, on the way back, I'd mistakenly think that my 30 minute drive would be a breeze. Everything was rosy, I had the highway to myself! No traffic congestion, no one merging at the expense of the life of others (me), no one weaving in and out of traffic. The revelers from the night before had made their way wherever, and no one in their right mind was awake yet. 

But what about someone not necessarily in their right mind?

 

 

 

I had just started out,was cruising along in dad's big metallic land boat, radio turned up high, when a car pulled up beside me. OK, there was one other person on the road. But he looked at me, then he pulled behind me. And stayed there. 

I was concerned. So concerned that I was watching him more than the road, and missed the turnoff to the other highway that would take me home. By the time I figured that out, I was, well, who knows where.

I was lost. I needed to get off that highway, but was afraid to take just any exit, I didn't want to end up on any route where I may have to stop at a light, not with this guy behind me.

 

So I needed to get off that highway, and I needed to not get off that highway.

At one point he came up beside me again and was waving at me to pull over. Nope. Maybe he was a nice guy, wanting to buy me a cup of coffee. Maybe his plans included me sleeping with the fish in the dirty water of the Charles River (insert maniacal laughter here). I wasn't about to find out, after all, I had kids to make, sweets to bake, pies in which to partake . . . 

 

 

Caramel Oreo Pie

 

 

I kept driving, he kept following, and I started singing snippets of those 3 songs still jumbling around in my head.

 

(singing): Will she ever return, no she'll never return, and her fate is still unlearned . . . 

I'm happy to report that I neither ended up taking a long nap in the Charles River, nor suffered Charlie of the MTA's fate (but it was close). 

  

 (singing): "Charlie's wife goes down to the Scolly Square station,

every day, at quarter past two,

and through the open window she hands Charlie a sandwich,

as the train comes rumbling through!"

The guy followed me for a while, tried again to get me to pull over, followed me some more. At some point he took an exit. I, of course was still lost. And nothing was open.

(singing): "And you don't feel much like ridin', you just wish the trip was though." 

 

Now I could get off . . . but where? 

My strategy turned out to be taking any route with a number I recognized, till I got to another route with a number I recognized, heading in a direction I thought I needed to go, until I eventually (miraculously) made it to my home town.

(singing): "You pretend it doesn't bother you but you just want to explode."

Although it had been a while since I'd seen the guy, I was spooked. I didn't want to go to dad's empty house, down a long lonesome driveway, (with woods on one side and backing up to the reservoir), so I went to Mom's. I parked the car in her driveway, ran into the house and locked the door. My 30 minute drive had only taken 3 hours.

Mom: Hi, I'm surprised to see you here.

Me: I'm just coming back from the airport.

Mom: Now? Their flight was hours ago.

Me: I took a little detour.

Mom: Oh, where?
Me: I kinda came home via Cape Cod.

Mom: Cape Cod???

Me: Don't ask. 

Mom: {{blink, blink}}.

Me: Got any pie?

 

 

 

 

Here are links to all the other Use Your Words posts:

 

Climaxed

The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver 

On the Border 

 

Caramel Oreo Pie         

                                                                         ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
1 (9 inch) Oreo pie crust

3 egg yolks

1 can (14 oz) sweetened condensed milk

1/3 cup caramel sauce

1/2 tsp vanilla

6 Oreo cookies, crushed 

 

OPT: chocolate sauce, caramel sauce, and/or whipped cream for serving

Directions:

*Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

*Whisk together the egg yolks, sweetened condensed milk, vanilla, and caramel sauce.
*Mix in the crushed cookies. Pour into the crust and bake for 30 minutes. Remove from the oven carefully, the pie will be browned but the center will not have set yet.

*Allow to cool to room temperature before refrigerating. Once pie is cold, slice and serve topped with chocolate sauce, caramel sauce, and/or whipped cream for serving, if desired. Keep leftovers covered and refrigerated.

Hide nor Hare: Word Counters

 

 

Counting my words again. 

Today my fellow Word Counters and I are sharing our monthly group post. Each month one group member picks  a number between 12 and 50. All participating bloggers are then challenged to write something (or a few somethings, as the case may be) using that exact number of words. Today we all share what we came up with. 

 This month's number is 43. 
It was chosen by Diane of On the Border.

As I've been doing in these Word Counters posts, I've chosen a theme and am using my word count multiple times in keeping with the theme. This month I've chosen the theme Missing (i.e., where have all the rabbits gone?).

 

~ I write, each year at this time, about nature, what we see in our yard. I talk about the flowers that grow in my gardens, the trees along the wood line, and the critters (large and small, scary and interesting) who wander about.

 

~ I've written about woodpeckers pecking holes in our siding, costing us hundreds of dollars in repairs each year. I've written about the majestic hawks who come right up and sit on our deck. And the owls who perch on our roofline to hunt.

~ Turkeys who come to visit, sometimes right up to our door. There are geese, deer and fawns, moles who do their own damage, but to our lawn, a fox now and then, possums, moles, raccoons, and the pedestrian rabbits, spiders, squirrels, bees, flies . . .

~ Today, some are missing. I'm not sure why. I went to sit on the back deck today, looked down to see a spider crawling on my leg, decided my three seconds outdoors were enough and came back in. Nope, spiders aren't missing. Figures.

~ My giant bees are. First time I saw them, I ran, screaming. Eventually they'd buzz around me while watering my plants, then follow me on to the next pot. We'd meet daily, they were harmless, friendly even. We got used to each other.

~ Yes, I've been drinking. But that doesn't change the fact that after years of expecting to see them, this year I'm watering alone. Of course the smaller yellow jackets, wasps, and hornets, you know, the ones that sting, they're still around. Of course.

 

Blackberry Lemonade Fizz

~ The strangest thing is the rabbits. Normally, they're everywhere, like the squirrels. We see them all over the lawn, from large rabbits, to tiny babies in nests dug into holes in our lawn, to young ones, scurrying away when we open the door.

~ Rabbits are everywhere in spring. There's a reason they say "breed like rabbits." This spring, we saw none. The woods, the lawn, the gardens, neither hide nor hare. The hares were hiding. Didn't see our first bunny until July, we've seen five since. 

~ We heard of a coyote out back this spring. Supposedly it went after a neighbor, but he (the neighbor, not the coyote) still has all of his body parts (the ones we can see), so he's superman, or that story may be exaggerated. 

 

~ I can see you making the correlation, enter the coyote, exit the rabbits, making a Sherlock Holmes style deduction, that the coyote ate all the rabbits. But every single one? Skipping the squirrels (and the spiders, but they're probably not quite as filling).

~ So where did all the rabbits go? The giant bees, too. And while I'm asking questions, anyone know how to talk a coyote into eating spiders (without getting close to him . . . just in case I happen to look like a roadrunner). Meep meep.

Here are links to the other Word Counters posts:

On the Border 

Messymimi’s Meanderings 

Blackberry Lemonade Fizz  

                                                                                      ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients (makes about 3):

12 blackberries

1 bottle (12 oz) hard lemonade

4 oz vodka

8 oz blackberry lemonade sparkling water 

 

1 cup ice

OPT: blackberries and/or sliced lemon to garnish

Directions:

*In a pitcher, mix together the lemonade and vodka. Add the blackberries and refrigerate for 4 hours.

*Divide the ice into 3 (10 - 12 oz) cocktail glasses. Remove the pitcher from the refrigerator, scoop out the blackberries and add 4 to each glass. 

*Divide the hard lemonade mixture evenly into the 3 glasses. Fill the glasses the rest of the way with the sparkling water. 

*Garnish with blackberries and/or sliced lemon, if desired.