The Briefcase Stalemate: Fly on the Wall

Welcome to our monthly Fly on the Wall, a blog post written in snippets. Marcia, Diane, and I invite you to catch a glimpse of what you’d see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes, at our writing desks, and in our worlds. Come on in, buzz around, see what we've been up to. Bet you laugh! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boy: {{blink, blink}}

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

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

Speaking of the Yankees . . .

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

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

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

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

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

And I would!

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

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

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

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

Later that day, Hubs walks in the kitchen:

Hubs: Where are your balls?

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

Fudgy Peppermint Rounds

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

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

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

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

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

Me: You're welcome.

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

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

Hubs: What do you mean I owe you?

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

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

Me: Oh?

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

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

 

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

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

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

Me: How was last night? Did you sleep?

Mom: Feeling much better. Should be discharged soon.

Me: Discharged?

Mom: Meaning I will not need her any more.

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

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

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

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

Me: Oh, that explains a lot.

As I said, she's trying.

Speaking of texts . . . 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hubs: No, I meant . . .

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

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

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

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

 

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

Menopausal Mother 

On the Border

Fudgy Peppermint Rounds

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

1 large box (24 oz) Little Debbie Fudge Rounds

35 starlight mints hard candies

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frankenstein vs Ghosts: 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 guess it's fitting that it's October, because these past few weeks saw me freaking out about a ghost.

I walked into our home office one afternoon and found the printer turned on. It hadn't been on that morning, and no one had used it all day. I couldn't turn it off, which was also strange, so I unplugged it.

And didn't really think about it until a few days ago. I walked into the office and the monitor was turned on. We haven't used that monitor in at least 5 years, but there it was, the light at the bottom blinking off and on. 

I called Hubs, he unplugged it, but now I know. We have a ghost.

Are we talking Casper? Or The Shining? Stay tuned . . .

Everything was quiet on the ghost front. Which is good because, really, how many things can we unplug?

And then a few days later I was doing the laundry:

Me: Have you been sitting in the clothes dryer sneaking snacks at night?

Hubs: Huh?
Me: You can snack on anything you want, any time you want, but I'd appreciate it if you clean up after yourself.

Hubs: I wasn't snacking on anything last night. What are you talking about?

Me: I just opened the dryer to put the clothes in and there are 2 peanuts in there.

Hubs: How is that possible? Maybe the ghosts got hungry?

Me: And didn't clean up after themselves? How rude.

OK, this is getting really strange.

I guess you'd call this a Halloween story. It is, after all, about a crow. Or crowing, anyway.

First, my husband is a very conservative, traditional, conventional, color in the lines kind of guy. He doesn't put himself out there. In fact, there are times when I do and he's mortified (meh, get over it).

So, have you heard of this Aldi aisle of shame "caw caw" thing that's been going on? It's actually pretty funny. There's a whole tribe of Aldi lovers who shop there often and post about their favorite products to social media. But there's also an in-store thing this community does. When they're in the aisle of shame (the markdown aisle), if they see a great deal, they call out "caw, caw" like a crow. Those in the know will "caw, caw" back and come to see what deal they've found.

I told Hubs that we needed to go to Aldi to check out some of the shoppers' recommendations and to see what might happen to be in the aisle of shame. I explained that if we found a great deal, he had to call out "caw, caw."

There is no way he would ever do that. We talked about it a number of times, and I started taking it as a challenge, I kept telling him he was going to do it, and he kept telling me he wouldn't. 

Last night, I tried again. And again he was adamant.

Quoth my husband: Nevermore.

I thought the ghost had branched out and gotten into our cell phones, but . . .

Hubs called me from work asking if I'd tried to text him. I hadn't. He told me that he got a text from me that said "Nn9." The text had my name, and my phone number, and just that message.

This made no sense to me. Maybe I butt texted? Is that even possible? So, I grabbed my phone and, of course, there was no such text sent. How could his phone have gotten a text from me that my phone never sent?

The ghost?

He came home and I asked to see the text. There in his text messages was my name and my phone number. Next to it was, in red, the word "draft." I opened it up, backspaced on the message and it went away. I hadn't inadvertently texted him. Apparently, it was Hubs who had unintentionally started a text to me.

The ghost is off the hook for this one. But Hubs? Sometimes I really worry about that guy.

Hubs comes in the house late on a Saturday afternoon. I'm reading.

Hubs: What's smells delicious?

Me: Oh, a Dark Chocolate Raspberry Cake.

Hubs: Wow, did you make it?

Me: Well, it was either me or the ghost.

Hubs: If it was the ghost, hope he sticks around.

Did he just call me spectrally replaceable?

Dark Chocolate Raspberry Cake

I talked in my August post Pop Ups and Basal Twins about my Frankenstein makeover. I'd had an invasive Basal Cell Carcinoma removed and had a suture line up my left cheek. A week later I had a second one removed from the right side of my nose. That one required a skin graft and ended up infected.

So yeah, Frankenstein. 

Both are starting to heal but they aren't there yet. But I also have a few precancerous spots on my face. These will be frozen off with Cryotherapy. They'll blister, but that's the easiest way to deal with them.

And, trying to be a silver lining kinda person, I'm thinking if I do the Cryotherapy right before Halloween, my monster face will be at its scariest.

Completing my evil plan to scare the trick or treaters off and keep all the candy for myself.

Ah, the things I'll do for a big bowl of chocolate . . . Muah ha ha ha {{evil laugh}}.

 

Me: I have a great idea of how to get rid of our ghosts.

Hubs: Oh no, you know your great ideas usually scare me.

Me: Well, scare is actually the point.

Hubs: OK . . .

Me: But first I have a question.

Hubs: What?

Me: Do you think ghosts are afraid of Frankenstein?

I wrote a post, back when I first started this blog, about what I'd do if faced with a zombie plague. I called the piece A Sense of Balance, and if you haven't read it, you should, it's funny. 

So, in this Halloween month when I've been having my Frankenstein monster make-over, there's been a little balance around here. 

My deck had a princess make-over.

I designed it myself, picking out a plank with red overtones, going for a henna look over a dark brown or a grey. There are many options for the railing: metal, wood, glass. Of course, things are never that easy when I'm involved. I worked out a hybrid. Metal posts and top rails, but with mixed centers. I wanted the classic spindles along the sides, but didn't want my woods views hampered, so glass along the front. They were able to work that out for me.

The beauty to my beast.

Balance.

Forget Frankenstein, after this conversation (I SO love spoofing my family), they are thinking I'm more witch.

Usually, for Halloween dinner, I make my Harvest Soup and my Cinnamon Cranraisin Pumpkin Bread. It's our tradition.

But this year I have heard of a new (to me) soup, and in the name of mixing April Fools with Halloween, I thought I'd suggest it.

Me: I'm thinking of switching up soup recipes this Halloween.

Hubs: Instead of your Harvest Soup?
Me: A new recipe I saw, it's a Jamaican soup.

Hubs: Jamaican? Like your Jamaican Shrimp and Crab Chowder?
Me: Jamaican flavor profile, but I'm sure it will be quite different.

College Boy: Sounds good, I can be here to try that.

Me: Great! It's called Jamaican Chicken Foot and Cow Skin Soup. I hear it's quite popular.

Hubs: Oh wait, Halloween? I think I have a meeting that night.

College Boy: I forgot I'll be working late on Halloween.

Me: Bak, bak, bak, you chickens. I'm getting out my caldron. Careful, I may put your feet in my soup.

Witch's Caldron Giant Cookie

Truth is, Chicken Foot and Cow Skin Soup is a real dish. And if I could maybe switch out the chicken foot for wings and the cow skin for chicharrones sprinkled over the top, I bet all those island flavors would be delish.

I have a couple of favorite reading spots in the house. One is a huge overstuffed chair in the bedroom for cold winter days. The other is a recliner in the office right by the window. I like this one at this time of year.

I have bookshelves, a long desk, and little decorative pieces sprinkled around the room. On the desk is a small piece that looks like a trunk.

Lately, when I'm reading in the late morning, I hear a ping sound. It seems to be coming from the trunk. At first I ignored it, but it was happening pretty much every day. Just once, but most days.

So . . . are the ghosts maybe stuck inside? But I thought they could just go right through objects. They aren't like a genie in a bottle, right?

Or are they just trying to make a point. In a Frankenstein vs ghosts competition, I just may be losing the battle.

There may be things I don't know, but there's one thing I'm very sure of. There is no way in hell I'm opening that trunk.

 

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

Menopausal Mother 

On the Border

Dark Chocolate Raspberry Cake

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

1 cup water

1 packet (1.25 oz) raspberry chocolate cocoa mix

about 3 TBSP baking cocoa

1 box (15.25 oz) dark chocolate cake mix

1/2 cup oil

3/4 cup raspberry yogurt

4 eggs

8 oz cream cheese, room temperature

1/2 cup raspberry jam

1/4 cup powdered sugar

1 can (16 oz) dark chocolate frosting

Directions:

*Boil the water. Add the raspberry chocolate cocoa mix and stir until dissolved. Refrigerate for 20 minutes.

*Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease three 9 inch cake pans and "flour" them with the baking cocoa.

*Beat the cake mix, oil, yogurt, and eggs until smooth. Add the cooled raspberry cocoa and beat for 2 minutes. Divide evenly into the prepared baking pans.

*Bake for 15 - 20 minutes, until the center springs back to the touch. Cool in the pans for 10 minutes before removing. Trim the tops so they are flat.

*Place the bottom layer on a serving plate.

*Beat together the cream cheese, raspberry jam, and powdered sugar. Reserve 1/2 cup for decorating the top of the cake. Spread a thin layer of the remaining raspberry filling onto the bottom cake layer. Repeat with the second cake layer and remaining filling.

*Add the top layer of the cake. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.

*Frost the top and sides with the dark chocolate frosting. Decorate the top with the reserved cream cheese filling.