Luck and Winning: Secret Subject Swap

Welcome a Secret Subject Swap. This month 7 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: Have you ever won anything?
It was submitted by: Rena of Wandering Web Designer.

I'm not the luckiest person on the planet, but then I'm not the unluckiest either. When the boys were little and the powerball jackpot would get high, Hubs and I would each play a ticket and we'd let the boys pick numbers too. Inevitably the payout would be small, but wouldn't you know it would be one of them who had picked the winning numbers.

I think I told this story once before, but when I was working in the buying office for Zayre, I once won the grand prize at our holiday party. Well, I might not have won really, but I got the prize anyway. I think I may have told this story before on this blog, or parts of it anyway, I'm not sure. Between age and the number of years I've been blogging sometimes it's hard to remember what stories I have and haven't told. 

Anyway, Rena, since you asked, I'll tell it. We, each of us who went to the party, each were given a numbered ticket for a drawing later on in the night. The rules were, you had to be there to win, ensuring that most of us stayed until the end of the party. It wasn't all that hard to do, there was dancing, fun, socializing not just with coworkers but with significant others, booze, good food and sweet desserts.

Crockpot Pineapple Balsamic Chicken

I was at a table with a group of my immediate coworkers. I don't remember everyone who sat with us, but I know my friend Kathy was there. She was from California but was living in the Boston area with her boyfriend (now husband) who had come to go to MIT. And there was Ken. He was our boss, and a bit of a putz. He wasn't mean or difficult, just, well, I don't know, putzy. He was older and married, we were young and carefree, so we didn't have a lot in common with him, but we didn't dislike him either. 

Anyway, Ken decided to leave. And he gave his ticket to Kathy. You see where this is going, right?

So time for the drawing came. The first number chosen for the grand prize was Ken's. Of course. Putz. So Kathy, being an honest person, said that she had the winning ticket but it was Ken's and he had left. The rules were well known, they drew again. The winning number? Mine. I had won a trip for two to Hawaii.

Later, Kathy told me she was not happy, she should have just claimed the prize. I thought she was upset with me maybe thinking I should give her the trip, but we continued our friendship to this day (well, on FB anyway, she moved back to California a few years later) and she now tells me she doesn't remember being upset with me at all.

Ken, well he's another story. He was definitely unhappy with both Kathy and I. He thought Kathy should have claimed the prize for him (as if) and I should give the trip to him (yeah, right). Anyway, I took my sister to Honolulu and we extended the trip ourselves jumping over to Maui for a few days before returning. 

I have to mention here something I know I've talked about here on the blog. Years later, I went through infertility treatments, surgery and IVF attempts each with a 20% chance of ending in pregnancy, suffered a miscarriage after one, a chemical pregnancy after another, lost my older son's twin, yet somehow ended up giving birth twice. I can tell you without reservation that was the biggest lottery win of my life. Twice.


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:

Wandering Web Designer 
Spatulas on Parade 
Our Prime Years 
Sarah Nolan 
Part-time Working Hockey Mom 
Climaxed 

Crockpot Pineapple Balsamic Chicken

                                                              ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe


Ingredients:

3 large boneless, skinless chicken halves
salt, pepper, garlic powder
1 (20 oz) can pineapple chunks in juice
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
2 green onions, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes 
1 cup snap peas 
1 carrot, shredded or thinly peeled

OPT: cooked pasta or rice for serving

Directions:
*Grease your slow cooker.
*Trim the chicken breast halves and cut each into 3 - 4 pieces, season with salt, pepper and garlic powder, then place in the slow cooker.
*Drain the can of pineapple chunks, reserving the juice. Place the pineapple chunks in the fridge for later.
*Whisk together the pineapple juice, balsamic vinegar, green onions, garlic and red pepper flakes. Pour into the slow cooker and turn on to low. Cook for 4 hours. 
*Add the pineapple, snap peas and carrot. Cook for another hour and a half.
*OPT: Serve over pasta or rice.
 

Her Time. Chapter Four: Destiny

Today is a bittersweet day. I'm publishing the final chapter of the latest in a series of writing collaborations we call the Progressive Story Project. Each story, told in a few chapters, is written by a number of bloggers, each building on the segments of the story submitted by the previous authors. The result is always a fun read.

I want to say again that I am so grateful to the friends who participated in crafting this current story. They each gifted me with their thoughts, their imaginations, their time and their words.

Here are the links to the previous chapters in this story. Be sure you're up to date before reading today's conclusion:
Her Time. Chapter One: Out of Focus
Her Time. Chapter Two: Leader of the Flight
Her Time. Chapter Three: Take Off

As always, for each segment in this chapter, I've listed the author of that portion in the top right corner.

Her Time
Chapter Four: Destiny

Kimberly of When I Grow Up

"Do you trust her?" 

The voice in his ear startled him. Michael had forgotten about the other woman who was now close at his side, so close that he could feel her breath on his neck.

"Of course," he said. "Almost from the day I met her, I knew we'd be together forever."

The woman, who he was now sure was Camryn's great great grandmother reached for his other hand. A sharp floral scent hit him. It smelled of spring. It was that flower that Camryn loved so much. He had always thought the smell overpowering. What was it called? He looked at the woman who so resembbled his wife and it hit him. It was a hyacinth which was also her name. Why had he never made the connection before?

Camryn and Hyacinth grasped his hands and they both turned and looked questioningly at him. Without even thinking he said, "Yes, yes. I am with you. Of course I couldn't let you do this alone." He still wasn't sure what "this" was, but knew that it was what he had to do. Perhaps he was under some sort of spell, but now that he had committed, he felt free, almost as if he could float on air.

The trio moved down the middle of the street, toward a faint light. He noticed a fog creeping in from the outside edges of the street. The woman began to sing.

Jenniy of Climaxed

Michael couldn't be sure what was going on, but he also couldn't leave his wife to do whatever this was alone. It was terrifying. Stark naked in the streets? Glowing lights? A crowd of chanting, yelling, stomping strangers and a long dead relative burned for being a witch holding his hand? If he hadn't seen it for himself, he would have laughed in her face had she told him. No wonder she'd gone sneaking around in the night.

Their song grew louder while the crowd followed and joined in. He still couldn't understand the words . . . it had to be a different language. That was the only explanation.

He heard a low bark and glanced beside them to see Shelby padding along as the fog thickened and drew closer. That dog . . . he'd always shrugged off the intensity of her connection to his wife even while knowing it was a bit out of the ordinary, so the least surprising thing of the night was her presence, and he found comfort in that. There was no way possible Shelby would be here walking along like this was any other night if something was seriously wrong. Shelby would know, and she'd protect Camryn at all costs. She always had. 

The four of them and the crowd behind them were drawing nearer to the light. He could now tell that it was coming from the cemetery in the oldest part of own - the one with the unmarked graves where the witches were rumored to have been tortued, burned and hidden away, unfit for Christian burials. It made sense, he guessed. All sorts of strong, capable women like Hyacinth had met their ends unfairly here. Perhaps they were meant to be recognized and laid to rest finally after all this time? But what did that have to do with The Flight? And Camryn's being the Chosen One? 

The trio (and Shelby) stopped abruptly in front of the cemetery gates, and he watched in fascination as the glowing lights he'd seen took shape and stood before him as women just as real as the ones holding his hands.

The crowd behind him kept their chanting but his wife and her great, great grandmother began moving through the growing group of women. He watched on in fascination just as bewildered as ever, but he wasn't scared anymore He should have been, but whatever was going on had given him the greatest sense of peace he'd ever known. 

All the while, Camryn herself was more driven than she'd ever been. The only problem was that she wasn't sure what she was being driven to do still. 

Espresso Layer Bars

Karen of Baking In A Tornado

Carly took another bite of her Espresso Layer Bar and looked up at her mother. "Go on, Mom."

Haylie looked at her beautiful daughter. Twenty one years old yesterday and just about to graduate college. She couldn't be more proud. "I really don't know much more, honey. My mother never told me because she never knew herself. I know you didn't know your grandmother, Carly, my parents disappeared before you were born. It's one of the reasons I keep her picture on the wall of the study."

"And that's why Camryn's picture sits alongside Hyacinth's," Carly added.

"Yes," Haylie interjected, "along with Hyacinth's".

"Hyacinth is my . . . ?" Carly asked.

"My 3 times great grandmother, your 4 times great grandmother."

"The trunk you mentioned in the story, Mom, it's the one in our attic now?"

"Yes. And some day it will be in yours."

"If your parents disappeared, how can you know all of this? Who told you?"

Haylie steeled herself, this part of the story remains the most painful. "When they first vanished, we were terrified, heartbroken, lost. The police did a lengthy and in depth investigation," she began, "in fact, as far as they are concerned, the disappearance of Camryn and Michael remains an open missing persons' case."

"But you know more."

"Years later your aunt and uncle and I did some DNA testing and ancestry research which lead us all the way back to the Salem Witch trials. We took a trip to Salem where a museum there dedicated to the trials had personal journals dating back to the 1700s. The name engraved on the front of one of them was Forsight. We knew that our 3 times great grandmother used this last name so we got permission to view the journal, apparently kept by one of her ancestors. That's where we learned what little we know about our family history, a recurring event intertwined in that history called The Flight, and that some of the women of our family are called upon, when needed, to be the Leader."

Haylie sighed and continued "I can't prove all of the details of the story I've told you today. We three, the children of Camryn and Michael, talked at length after that visit to Salem. We've added details we can't know of course, but based on what we have always known of our parents and their relationship, and what details we learned about our family history, this is exactly what we believe happened. All of us."

"Why are you telling me all this now, Mom?"

"Because you're 21. You're old enough to know. Camryn, my mom, was taken by surprise, even ended up in the hospital, that much is fact. If I disappear, or if I'm not needed but you're called on to be the next Leader of the Flight, I want you to know as much as I do and to not be afraid. Whatever the Flight is, whatever the Leader does, I can promise you this, it is noble and honorable and right and that your grandmother loved me with all of her heart. Wherever she is, she still does. And she will have nothing but love for you. Go with her or not, that's your choice, but know that she would never hurt you."

Carly stood up and wrapped her arms around her mother, hugging tight. "Thank you, Mom."

Haylie looked at her daughter with tears in her eyes. "And if it does turn out to be you, I want you to do something I wish I could do myself."

"Anything, Mom."

"Kiss my mom and dad for me. Tell them I am so grateful to them for my childhood, that I adore them, I always will." 

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Below is a list of the talented bloggers who joined me in authoring this story, along with links to their blogs ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
 

Sarah of Sarah Nolan
Jenniy of Climaxed
Lydia of Cluttered Genius 
Kimberly of When I Grow Up
Jules of The Bergham Chronicles
Dawn of Spatulas on Parade
Diane of On the Border
Tamara of Part-time Working Hockey Mom
Rena of Wandering Web Designer and The Blogging 911 


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Links to past Progressive Story Projects ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

2014: A Holiday Story

2015: Storm Past

2015: A Holiday Story (picked up where the original left off)

2016: Sincerely Sarah

2017: Take Aim

2017: Skin Deep

2018: Mystery at the Castle

Espresso Layer Bars        
                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
3/4 stick butter, melted
1 1/4 cups chocolate graham cracker crumbs
1/2 cup toffee baking chips
1/2 cup macadamia nuts, chopped
1 cup espresso baking chips
1 cup white chocolate chips
1 can sweetened condensed milk.

Directions:
*Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9 X 13 baking dish.
*Mix together the melted butter and the chocolate graham cracker crumbs. Press into the bottom of the prepared dish.
*Layer the toffee baking chips over the crust, then continue to layer the ingredients, the macadamia nuts, then the espresso baking chips, then the white chocolate chips. 
*Drizzle the sweetened condensed milk over the top. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until the edges are browned and the center is bubbly hot.
*Cool. Run a knife around the edges and slice into 24 bars.

Her Time. Chapter Three: Take Off

I'm continuing to share today the next chapter in our current, the 8th, Progressive Story Project. This is a creative writing exercise taken on by a number of bloggers. Each time we participate in this project, we write a piece of fiction, crafted by all, building on what those ahead of us have written. As always, for each section of this chapter, if you look above and to the far right of the segment, you'll see the name of the author of that piece of the story and a link to their blog.

If you haven't already done so, be sure to read the previous chapters so you're up to date on the story:
Her Time. Chapter One: Out of Focus
Her Time. Chapter Two: Leader of the Flight

Her Time
Chapter Three:

Tamara of Part-time Working Hockey Mom

When Michael had to get up to pee in the middle of the night, he noticed that the other side of the bed was empty. At first he wasn't worried. Typically Camryn would be lying on the living room sofa, all curled up underneath her favorite blanket, reading - or more often than not, have dozed off with her book still in her hand.

Not this time, though.

What was going on here? First she ended up at the hospital in a coma-like condition, now she couldn't be found anywhere in the house. It looked as though Shelby, their dog, was missing as well

Michael put on jeans, a sweater and sneakers, grabbed a flashlight and opened the front door.  It wasn't locked.

How strange.

He locked the door behind him, switched on his flashlight and began walking.

"Caaaaamryn! Sheeeeelby!" he cried every couple of minutes as he briskly marched on their usual dog walk trail along the river, shining on the path before and around him. "Where aaaaaaare you?"

He felt increasingly anxious. This was not like his wife to just leave the house in the middle of the night.

Suddenly he remembered the text message he got when he was at the hospital. I said something about the 23rd street. Was this text supposed to be for Camryn? Did she have a secret affair? Who was she meeting? What was it that she was mumbling? Something about getting ready for departure, a flight?

His fingers were trembling as he logged on to his phone to check his messages. No new texts. And strangely, the one talking about the 23rd street was gone. He dialed Camryn's number. It rang, and rang, and rang.

He was ready to call the police when . . .

Sarah of Sarah Nolan

He needed to check back home in case she returned, but she still wasn't there. Just in case, he called her one last time. The upbeat sound of Camryn's ringtone sliced through the quiet, startling him. Walking into their room, he glanced over to see her phone laying on the nightstand where she always left it. She wouldn't have left without it. He glanced at the phone, typing in the same code he used to unlock his phone and saw that there was an unread text message.

"The time has come."

"What time?" Michael exclaimed, frustrated with all the riddles. "I'm putting an end to this right now!" Grabbing his keys, Michael hit the remote start on the key fob, starting the car. Making sure he had his wallet, Michael jumped in the car and headed toward 23rd street. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and realized it was 11:58 . . . 2 minutes until midnight. Putting pressure on the gas pedal, Michael navigated the empty streets of the small suburban town until he reached 23rd street.

Parking on the side of the street, Michael got out and looked both ways. The street was empty.

His frustration growing, Michael started to get back in his car when the dark street lit up with a brilliant white glow, so bright it was almost blinding. Turning toward the light, Michael put his hand up to shield from the light.

Walking toward what seemed to be the source of the light, Michael felt his mouth drop open in disbelief.

Standing in the middle of the street, awash in the glow of the light, was his wife.

She didn't have a stitch of clothing on.

Cranberry Pepita Cookies

Lydia of Cluttered Genius

"Camryn?" Michael watched as she stood in front of him, unseeing. He called her again. "Camryn?" She looked toward him but definitely not at him. Michael took a few steps forward only to see Camryn raise her arms to the sky. Suddenly, a low hum, almost a grumble, began to come from everywhere. Michael looked around but couldn't find the source of the noise.

"Camryn. CAM-RYN. This isn't funny. What are you doing? Why are you naked? CAMRYN!" Michael's voice turned desperate as Camryn ignored him and turned her face upward. The low hum grew louder. He felt the earth shaking as the light became so intense that Michael had to cover his eyes.

Suddenly, and from everywhere, people began running toward Camryn. She laughed out loud and spun around. Those who were coming from all directions circled her, and the next thing Michael knew, she was hidden. The crowd grasped hands, and began swaying, and the hum disappeared in the sound of their feet stomping in rhythm.

No longer frozen from shock, Michael started moving forward and tried to push between the crowd. Their hands held tight to one another, and he couldn't get through.

In a moment of panic, Michael did the only thing he could think of: he joined them. Stomping his feet and swaying, Michael quickly found their rhythm. Two of the crowd members on either side of him looked at him with a smile and stepped slightly aside to let him in between them. They took his hands, and at once he was part of the circle.

The white light was still bright enough that Michael couldn't see much beyond the few inches in front of him. He was trying his best to find Camryn, to see her through the crowd and the light. She seemed to be nowhere, as if the light had literally swallowed her.

The crowd began to chant. It sounded like nonsense words, and Michael couldn't quite catch on to join them. He kept the rhythm in the stomping and held tight to the hands he had so they wouldn't let go. The chanting grew louder and louder, and the crowd began to move slowly toward the center where Camryn had been.

Soon, the chanting was actually yelling. Michael's ears hurt with the sheer volume of the crowd's unified voice. Right as he was about to let go of the hands he was holding so that he could cover his ears, the crowd stopped cold and the light was gone. Everyone stood stock still except Michael whose hands were frozen next to his ears. In the darkness, there seemed to be a void. He couldn't see anything around him. That is, until he was pushed by someone behind him in to the center of the crowd.

Jules of The Bergham Chronicles

He found himself suddenly face to face with Camryn. The crowd was quietly surrounding them, and the bright light seemed to be gone, but Camryn still had a glow about her. It reminded Michael of how she had looked while pregnant with each of their children. She was a beautiful woman, he'd dare say the most beautiful woman, but pregnancy seemed to increase the beauty.

He looked into her eyes, the same eyes he'd enjoyed gazing into for as long as he could remember. It was the same as always, and yet totally different. Camryn was still the same woman he had married, but something was different. She smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his chin. A tingling sensation shot through his chin, and a warmth filled his soul.

He was about to ask her what was going on, when she began to speak. "You're my chosen one, Michael. You always have been, from the very first moment we met."

"I love you too," he replied quietly, his eyes searching her face for clues as to what was happening. He suddenly realized she wasn't alone. A beautiful woman, who looked strikingly like Camryn's distant grandmother, who was the subject of a couple of paintings they owned, was standing quietly at her side. He looked from woman to woman, amazed by the resemblance, he nearly missed Camryn's quiet voice.

"I'd like you to remain at my side" she said, as she squeezed his hand. "I want you to forever be my chosen one. I'm not sure I can do this without you, Michael, and I absolutely don't want to. However, if this is all too much for you, I understand."

"If what is too much?" Michael questioned, as his eyes searched her beautiful face. "What exactly are you talking about?"

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Click here to read the conclusion, Destiny ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cranberry Pepita Cookies        
                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients (makes 3 dozen):
1 stick butter, softened
1/2 cup pumpkin puree
1/2 cup sugar
3/4 cup brown sugar
1 egg
2 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp pumpkin pie spice
1/2 cup shelled pepitas
1/2 cup cranraisins

1/4 cup sugar
1/2 tsp cinnamon

Directions:
*Cream butter, pumpkin puree, 1/2 cups sugar and 3/4 cup brown sugar until smooth, then beat in the egg.
*Slowly at first, beat the flour, baking soda, salt, 1 tsp cinnamon and pumpkin pie spice.
*By hand, mix in the pepitas and cranraisins. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for an hour or up to a day.
*Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Cover baking sheets with parchment paper.
*Mix together the 1/2 cup of sugar and 1/2 tsp cinnamon.
*Roll the dough into approximately 1 inch balls. Roll each ball in cinnamon/sugar mixture, place on cookie sheets and bake for 13 minutes.