Fly on the Wall – Novembrrrr

Posted on November 21, 2014 by Lorinda

If you’re a fly on the wall in my home this month, you’ve come to the right place. It might be 5 degrees outside, but as usual The Man is feeding the woodburning stove like it’s a starving whale, and it’s warm and cozy in here. Like…shorts and tank top warm. So hang out for a while and see what’s happening around here, and then check out the links below to see what’s going on in 14 other bloggers’ homes!

My ~~older~~ sisters came for a visit – a cause for much excitement since my ~~oldest~~ sister Khym hadn’t been here before and I was tickled they were both coming. They drove six hours to get here…which is a pretty big effort!

My 60th birthday is coming up in a couple of months, and since no one in their right mind would drive here in the winter, they brought lots of fun little treats to celebrate early. Fun gourmet goodies, crafty stuff, music. Loved it! They also brought SLIDES! You know (or maybe you’re young and don’t know) old-time photographs in little squares of cardboard that are projected on a screen. Or bumpy wall. I could probably write a complete blog on our attempts to make the slide projector work, but in the end we got to see ourselves as children and teenagers. Good times!

The running joke was yelling “GET IN MAH BELLEH” in a deep voice every time I popped up on the screen, because I was SO fat. And my wonky eye and big tongue got a whole lot of laughs too. Damn, I was a mess.

We had fun with sister Jenny, who is officially known as the “Crazy Chicken Lady” now. We watched videos of her chickens, and laughed at her because she lets one sleep in her bed! Honest, it’s true!

And just because we couldn’t resist, while she was out in the dark on our front sidewalk, The Man went behind the house and blew on one of his predator calls. We heard her footsteps running for the porch, and she came skidding into the front door.

Now…if you came into the house after hearing something like that and saw your sisters laughing hysterically, wouldn’t you guess you’d been punked? Nope. She was insistent she’d heard something creepy. We laughed ’til we cried, and she finally figured it out. Snort.

Jenny also likes ice cream. A lot.

The Man: “The ice cream is on the counter”
Jenny: “Great. I will help myself immediately so there’s enough for me.”

Love those girls!

Oh, and one more sister story…and this one’s a doozy! They called on their way home, very excited, to tell us they’d seen a moose. In fact, not just one moose, but several. Apparently they were very skinny, but I said that was normal – they weren’t big and fat like cows, more muscle than fat. It didn’t even occur to me to question it, even after they said there was a mama and babies. Kind of the wrong time of year for that.

When the picture was posted on Facebook my son took one look at it and started laughing. They’d driven by a place that creates metal sculptures. Skinny??? Um, yeah…like maybe 1/2-inch thick. We all got a kick out of that, even the sisters.

Two days later, my son saw a huge bull moose. He described it to me and added “and it wasn’t even cut out of sheet metal”.

Speaking of game…last month in my Fly on the Wall post I described the disgusting elk head that was putrifying and stinking to high heaven in our backyard. I complained so vociferously that The Man went out there to cut the remaining dead crud from the skull so he could bleach it to hang in the Man Cave.

Unfortunately, he nicked himself with the knife. Do you have any idea how quickly that kind of bacteria turns into blood poisoning? At the speed of light, my friends.

After a week of pain, suffering, whining, Urgent Care, and a follow up at our doctor’s office, (and some really impressive peeling of his skin) the red line is gone and The Man is back to normal. The $75 that he was saving by cleaning the skull himself instead of letting the taxidermist do it ended up costing us a hell of a lot more.

Shaking my head. Just…………..shaking my head.

He’s pretty pumped up this year, though. He got his elk and a deer. He didn’t manage to shoot a bear for the trifecta, but he has been pounding his chest pretty thoroughly. Every time he starts a sentence with “So, there I was…” we all run from the room. Example:

The Man: “So, there I was. It was icy cold when I saw the deer in the distance.”
Me: “Why don’t you write a book so you can have it published and no one will buy it.”

He wants us to call him “The Legend” now. I know his gloating is (sort of) in jest, but I still might have to have a special shirt made for him for Christmas.

We all got our deer this year. I’ve decided this is the last time I’ll do it, but we have lots of meat in the freezer…a great feeling. I don’t have any objections to hunting per se; we use every bit of that meat. But I agonize over it when it is me who is doing the dastardly deed, so I’m leaving it up the guys from now on. Still, he was a beauty!

My Sweet Grands

My daughter posted this status: “Drinking coffee and swearing at the sewing machine. More like my mama every day, and proud of it!!” Yep. She probably learned more cuss words watching me try to sew than she did from her brothers. And yet…we keep trying. 🙂 Little Mack’s “Oompa Loompa” costume was worth the angst though!

I was feeling indulgent, and hit the kitchen on a mission. The resulting pastry was enough to put each of us into a sugar coma. I’m going to let the picture do the talking; the link is here for Pumpkin Cronuts.

The dogs are shedding. After pulling dog hair out of my mouth twice during the night, I mentioned that the sheets needed to be changed. Walking into the bedroom I see that the sheets have been pulled and left in a wad on the bed. A little later, this conversation occurred:

The Man: “Did you see I stripped the sheets for you?”
Me: (After a pause to think about the “for you” part of his question) “Um. Thank you. Do you mean for US?”
The Man: “For us.”
I started pulling the pillow cases off the pillows.
The Man: “Oh, you want to wash the pillowcases too?”
Me, dumbfounded: “One usually does wash the pillowcases along with the sheets.”

I cannot die. Ever. He wouldn’t survive.

Lord Voldemort: “Much like the female orgasm, the G-spot is a myth.”

No one can question why he’s still single.

I spent 6 glorious days visiting “the coast”, which means Seattle. I bounced from house to house freeloading off of friends from my past, and had a blast with 4 bloggers whom I’d never met. Ate too much, drank too much, spent too much, drove too much, and slept too little. All in all, a perfect trip! I’d add some funny stories, but you know….what happens on the coast stays on the coast!

Now I think I’m ready to hunker down for the winter!

Now buzz over to these great blogs – these ladies are seriously FUNNY!
Lorinda

Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
The Momisodes
Follow Me Home
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy
Spatulas on Parade
Someone Else’s Genius
Juicebox Confession
Go Mamma O
Battered Hope

Fly on the Wall – Ahhhhhhctober Edition

Posted on October 17, 2014 by Lorinda

Welcome to a Fly on the Wall group post. Today 13 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.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh…finally! It’s October and I can see light at the end of the tunnel. I still have some odds and ends to finish up – chores to be done before the snow flies – but things are slowing down and I’m able to spend more time playing in the kitchen. (Happy dance!)

I’ve baked some fall treats, much to The Man’s great satisfaction (garden and harvest make for a disappointing lack of “goodies”) but here’s something I’ve never made before! The smell of cinnamon, molasses, and oats was heavenly. Here’s what it looked like before I added the eggs, coconut oil, and molasses:

Mixing it up by hand in the big blue roasting pan.

Want a closer look??

Um….are those…worms?

Wait a minute. I think there might be a little extra protein in this mixture! Maybe it won’t be so obvious when it’s baked?

Eeeeuw, no, they’re still there. Just a little toasty now.

That’s okay – the ladies have no objection to their homemade “Flock Block”

So spoiled.

There are lots of recipes on the internet for Flock Blocks – a nice treat for the girls, especially in the winter when they’re stuck inside a lot and get bored. I pretty much winged my recipe, and it worked really well. They love it! If anyone’s interested, here’s how I did it.

Flock Block

Author: The Rowdy Baker

These flock blocks are a real treat for chickens. Don't be too generous with them though, or your girls won't eat their regular food. These aren't as hard as commercial flock blocks, and won't last as long, but you will feel good about the wholesome ingredients you use!

Ingredients

4 cups scratch
2 cups omega egg supplement
4 cups 9 grain rolled cereal
1 cup dried mealworms
1 cup raisins or dried cranberries
½ cup chia seeds
½ cup crushed oyster shells
1 cup wheat germ
1 cup wheat bran
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
6 eggs
1 cup molasses
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup melted coconut oil (or lard if you wish)

Instructions

Heat oven to 350 F.
In a very large pan, mix all ingredients through the cayenne pepper.
In a small bowl, beat the eggs, molasses, peanut butter, and coconut oil together until thoroughly combined. Add to dry ingredients.
Stir well, using your hands.
If you are using disposable foil pans, there is no need to grease the pans first. Simply press the mixture firmly into the pan. If you are using regular pans (bread pans, cake pans, pie pans, etc.) I advise spraying or greasing the pan first. Really pack the mixture down in the pan!
Bake for 30 minutes. Without opening the oven door, turn the heat off and let the blocks sit in the oven overnight.
This makes 6-8 large blocks. Wrap and freeze any that won't be used right away.

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Realistically, I can justify the expense and effort by considering it a “last meal” for some of them. I refuse to feed 20 chickens through the cold winter when I’m only getting four eggs a day…mostly from the 7 young hens. I’m afraid it’s time to do something about this situation. I’m heading to the coast to visit a Facebook friend I’ve never met before (squeee!) the first week of November, and hopefully when I come back there will be chicken in the freezer. That’s all I’m going to say about that.

October is when I get the urge to stock up for winter. I don’t know why; we’ve never been snowed in more than a week or two, but I can’t fight the compulsion to stock the shelves!

My neighbor and I went to Costco (a 3 hour round trip) and I spent an obscene amount of money on baking supplies. Ninety pounds of flour. Brown sugar, white sugar, powdered sugar. Chocolate chips. Nuts. Vanilla. Yeast. Cinnamon. Yep – I’m ready for holiday baking! Oh yes, and I got coffee and some basic supplies. My husband almost peed himself when he looked in the back of her truck and realized that everything back there was OURS. Know the best part? I forgot some stuff and she and I are making another trip next week. My list grows daily.

That neighbor, Pam, is so much fun! We think a lot alike, which is possibly a little scary. She had Starz added to her TV just so that I could come over and watch Outlander. I’ve read the series of books a bazillion times, and was dying to see the TV series. Bless her heart! It is even worth risking a mauling by her attack turkey to get to go watch it with her…and believe me, that bad boy wants a piece of me!!! He paces back and forth in front of the screen door, giving me the evil eye while I’m inside her house, then “escorts” me to my car. I hide behind her and get pretty creative with my defensive moves. Next time I go over I’ll take my camera so you can see what I mean!

Where we live, “open range” means keeping our fences mended and our gates closed during late summer to keep unwanted cows out of the yard and garden. If you live in an open range area, it is your responsibility to keep ranging animals off of your property. If you are in a closed range area, it’s the animal’s owners who are responsible. Oddly, the road in front of the house is the dividing line. The people across the way are in open range. We are not. But…cows don’t know this, so we keep our fence closed when cows are on the move.

Most of the time.

I honestly don’t mind it when the cows visit. They look great grazing on our hill, and make me wish we owned a few. But cows leave a lot of runny piles of poop everywhere, and because I leave the orchard gate open so the chickens can free range, the temptation to gnaw on the apple trees is just too much for them. The Man left the gate open and the cows came in and helped themselves to apples. I’d already picked all I wanted, but went to shoo them out of the orchard anyhow. Out of six cows, five of them “shooed”. The other one stood his (yes, this one was a young steer) ground.

Being the tough (cough cough) gal that I am, I picked up the hose and swung it his way a few times. He looked bemused.
He was not impressed.
Daisy and Otis had no intention of herding this guy out, so I picked up Daisy’s ball and lobbed it at the steer. For the record, I throw like a girl.
He was still not impressed.
Daisy did chase the ball as it flew in his general direction, but that just made him kick up his heels a bit.
He was most definitely not impressed, nor was he amused.
So I went towards him, swinging my arms and yelling. I stomped my feet.
He stomped his back and came towards me…not quite what I had in mind.

He won. Pffft. Those apple trees needed pruning anyhow.

It was dark when The Man got home, and apparently he didn’t understand my predicament.

Him: “Did you lock up the chickens?”
Me: “NO! There were cows in there.”
Him: “Did you close the orchard gate?”
Me: Giving him the look. “NO! There were still cows in there.”
Him: “Did you close the chicken door?”
Me: “What part of “there were cows in there” don’t you understand?!”

This from a man who is afraid to put his hand in the nesting box to get an egg if there is a chicken in there. Pffft.

Even though I know better (I’m sure these sites are gathering critical information from me like what my favorite color is and what genre of music makes me want to dance) I can’t stop playing those stupid quizzes on Facebook. I can tell you that I know almost all of the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody, my favorite decade is the ’80s, and my nickname is “Sunshine”. I suck at music trivia (unless it’s old country lyrics), identifying books by their last lines, and have forgotten a lot of the old “Friends” episodes. I’m terrible at anything that has to do with history. I’m warm, caring, and should have been a chef. There’s more…way too much more. I think I need an intervention!

In case you’re worried that I might run out of pumpkin for fall recipes, I can assure you…there are lots more where these came from!

The funny striped pumpkins are called “Lady Godiva” because they have naked seeds. – no shells. They pop a little like popcorn in the oven and are delicious. The pumpkin itself isn’t really worth eating, but the chickens and deer love it, so it’s not wasted. I harvested about 20 of these babies…and I’m thrilled. Such a yummy, healthy snack!

Lady Godiva seeds.

I’m very excited, because my sisters are coming to visit this weekend. One hasn’t been here in a couple of years, and the other has never seen the place. I warned them to leave their white gloves at home, but you know how that is, right? I have two days to get this place in shape. I’ve warned Lord Voldemort that if he comes this way he’ll be sleeping on a cot in the shop. We’re going to be looking at carousel after carousel of SLIDES. Slides from when we were young. And cute. Sigh. I should have lots of funny stories for you next month!

Buzz around, see what you think, then click on these links for a peek into some other homes:

Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
The Momisodes
Follow Me Home
Crumpets and Bollocks
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy
Spatulas on Parade
Someone Else’s Genius
Battered Hope

Fly on the Wall (stuck in squirrel mode)

Posted on September 19, 2014 by Lorinda

Welcome to our Fly on the Wall group post. Today 14 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,and then check out the other houses too! Links to all of the crazy bloggers are at the bottom of this post.

Summer is slipping past us quickly, which means frantic scrambling at our place. Our first frost meant complete panic, as I picked as much of the harvest as possible. I saved most of it, but the “light frost” turned into a “killing freeze” and anything I missed or didn’t have time to deal with was history. Here’s the sad proof:

Dead beans.

Wait, did I say sad? I was so sick of picking beans, that I was actually relieved to see them die, DIE, DIE!!! Whew. I feel better.

Dealing with the bounty means I haven’t posted a blog post since last month’s Fly on the Wall! And yet, I have been lucky enough to have understanding followers, because my Facebook page just hit 5,000 likes – which is incredibly exciting to me! I was trying to figure out what to write on the pumpkin and the pie for my photo. I had some help:

The Man: “Put 5,000 on the pumpkin and gracias (only he pronounced it “graw-shus” on the pie.”
Me: “Graw-shus? Maybe you need to go back to Spanish class.”
The Man: “I was just being fecalcetious.”
Oh.

Wooo HOOOO!

As if the garden wasn’t enough to deal with, it was also hunting season. (Here’s where you’ll want to scroll waaaaay down the page if you’re anti-hunting or a vegetarian. Okay…I warned you!)

Let me set the stage here, okay? I love hunting season! We have a deal: I make lots of food and he leaves for 10 days or so. Sweet, huh? Except…he got an elk after just a few days. So not only did he come home early, he came home dragging a bazillion pounds of gory meat with him. While I’m thrilled to have meat security, it took us almost 2 days to cut and package the meat because (and though I say “we” I mean “he”) we cannot have any fat, gristle, or bone in our meat. That means each piece must be cut with surgical precision. All scraps are frozen for the dogs, so nothing is wasted, but my hands looked like prunes before we finished because I had to keep washing my hands, cutting boards, and knives to “start clean”. OCD much?

Do you remember last year when I showed you what a bear penis bone looked like? Well, this year I had something even more impressive, but was afraid of offending too many of you. Let’s just say that a bull elk is called a bull for good reason, and leave it at that! I really don’t want the picture out there for anyone to Google, so use your imagination. Just….whoa!

Now comes the REALLY nasty part. The Man, in his efforts to thwart marauding neighbor dogs and cheat the coyotes, put the poor elk’s head up on the garage roof, under the assumption bugs would clean it off and then he could bleach the skull for the wall in his man cave. (Don’t think I didn’t notice you disappeared for a few days, little fly.) After that frost we had very warm weather, and the smell got worse and worse. I was at the brink of buying a case of face masks or moving to my daughter’s when he gave in and removed it. It’s now soaking in a big tank of soapy water. No smell, so I guess that’s a step in the right direction. Ugh.

The man hadn’t been gone 30 minutes when my dryer stopped dead. No flicker, no pulse. Figures. So I hung everything on the line and resigned myself to roughing it. (It’s a top loading, computerized prima donna dryer, not easily repaired.) My son, Lord Voldemort, rolled his eyes when I wanted to try my computer “cure”, which was to unplug it and plug it back in. Guess what? Uh huh, oh yeah, who’s the dryer fixer here? That be me!

We have two chest freezers, and both are full to the top with meat and veggies. It makes my squirrel instincts happy to see all that food for winter. I’m on to dehydrating things now, because that doesn’t take up much room. A trip to Costco for coffee and ~~wine~~ dog food and I’ll be ready for the snow to fly!

Russ: “Man, that Middle East is a messed up place. Makes you wonder why Israel doesn’t just move their country somewhere else.”
He’s a bright guy – much more into politics than I – so I’m pretty sure he was messing with me. But…WHAT?!

Gardening isn’t all grunting and dirt. Sometimes it provides amusement. Case in point:

Cute little potato family.

I have a few other examples that are also rated “G”.

Just to show how much influence a female has over a male, Daisy has finally taught old stodgy Otis to throw caution to the wind and play! It may not look like much fun, but they’re having a great time wrestling together. Makes me happy.

It’s all fun and games until someone gets a leg chewed off!

This has been an “all work, no play” kind of month. If anything funny was said it probably just went right over my head. I see some calm times coming though – after the tomatoes and apples are processed and the garlic is dried and the dry corn is picked and the potatoes are sorted, and the elderberries are made into syrup…well, I’ll try to make time to jot down funnies as they happen. ‘Til then, click on the links below for some good laughs.

Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
The Momisodes
Follow Me Home
Go Momma O
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy
Spatulas on Parade
Juicebox Confession
Someone Else’s Genius
Battered Hope

Fly on the Wall – August

Posted on August 22, 2014 by Lorinda

Welcome to Fly on the Wall, where you get to buzz around and see what goes on in my home, and in those of 10 other bloggers. Little happenings that don’t warrant their own post, but may still be of interest. Things that may make you raise your little fly eyebrows! Come see, and then buzz along and visit the other blogs posted at the bottom.

I bailed on Fly last month because my daughter and grandkids were here visiting. I figured they’d give me lots of good laughs for this month’s post, but I was so caught up in the visit I kept forgetting to write the good stuff down. I did manage to scribble a couple of notes, thank goodness! Here’s what I had:

Grandpa tried to “help” Sophie put makeup on. Said he’d get her ready for middle school. Sophie politely reminded him that she wasn’t going to clown college.

Taunee, looking at a pic of her mom on the wall: Mom, you were so pretty when you were little. You looked perfect. You looked just like me! (This child oozes confidence.)

Taunee had a prank planned for ~~Uncle Dean~~ Lord Voldemort, but couldn’t help dropping hints. When he started to question her, she told him it was a “surprise”. He told her she’d be surprised when the Turd Fairy left something under her pillow. I really wish I wasn’t such a visual person.

The girls: “Show us more skulls, Uncle Voldemort. Show us more skulls and bones.” Um, yeah. He has a weird collection. He did make Taunee happy by sending her home with a pair of shed deer antlers…I believe he’d had a bit to drink at the time, because he doesn’t usually part with any of his collection. My daughter’s new name for her brother is “Drunkle ~~Dean~~ Voldemort.”

Mr. Mack discovered “vroom vrooms” I love it! He’s been kind of a city boy, but Pa and me purt near took care of that!

While they were here we had a really, really wild storm. It was brief, but intense. I may have shrieked when lighting and thunder hit at the exact same time and I was with the kids outside by the chicken coop. There was a lot of damage in the area, but we came out of it okay, except for the flour corn. It was just beginning to pollinate when the storm struck, so no cornmeal for us this year. It was very exciting for the kids, though.

I dumped sand into a big tub, added a pile of loose change, and stirred. Instant fun. Here’s the best part: instead of fighting over the coins, I heard Taunee say to Sophie “there’s a quarter over there, by your hand”. How sweet was that? Better yet, Sophie’s response was “Here, you can have it”. Bravo, Mom and Dad – you’re raising those girls right!

Digging for gold.

It was hot and smoky while the girls were here, due to all the wildfires in Washington State. Really hot.

C’mon, you know what you’re supposed to say.

“HOW HOT WAS IT?” you ask?

This hot.

russ breaks hammock dogs laughing edited

I’m pretty sure the dogs are laughing!

Our hammock had a tear in it (thanks to Otis, our yellow lab) and I thought I had repaired it pretty well before the kids got here. Oh, it was all fun and games…until Grandpa got in. Luckily, my daughter was right there with the camera when he fell through. On his bad back. Bwa ha ha ha ha. Snort. Can’t help it!

I’ve been curing my garlic on the back porch, and one batch was spread across a wicker basket for air circulation. Working at the sink I heard a weird rustling sound. Since this is snake territory, I was a little concerned and went out back to see. Someone had knocked the basket over because apparently it was the perfect spot to nest. I shooed her off, but an hour later she gave a repeat performance. She won. I love garlic chicken.

So….fire, wind, flood, hail. Where are the locusts? Oh, wait – they’re in the garden…if you consider grasshoppers to be the same thing, that is. I opened the garden gates to let the chickens in so they could eat the hoppers, and they went straight for my buckwheat. That wasn’t the deal – so the gates are closed. I’ll pick and hand deliver the grasshoppers to the girls, I guess. They’re just so freakishly strong! It feels like something is exploding in my hand when I carry them. Eeeeuw.

What was I thinking when I ordered 7 different types of green beans? Usually germination is hit-or-miss, so I planted extra in each row. I’ve picked over 60 pounds of beans. Some were given away, but most were trimmed, blanched, and frozen. Snapping or trimming takes time, so I did something unusual for me, and put in movies to watch while I worked. Not just any movies – musicals! Oklahoma, Hans Christian Anderson, My Fair Lady, Carousel. Terrible, wonderful musicals. The Man has spent a lot of time outside. We do, however, have bean security. And still they keep growing…

11 pounds. This is just 3 rows. I have 9.

Speaking of beans, The Man just turned 60 and here was his cake:

Happy birthday to youuuu.

Just kidding. I made him a peach trifle.

Peach Trifle

Here’s the recipe, if you’re interested. You’ll need:

One angel food cake (if you’re feeling inspired, here’s my recipe: Angelberry Cake)
Whipping cream – lots! About a quart
4-5 large peaches
One batch of “Peachy Creamy Pastry Cream” (below)

Peachy Creamy Pastry Cream

Author: The Rowdy Baker

Perfect for so many things! Layer it in a trifle, fill a cream puff, or eat it from a spoon 🙂

Ingredients

5 tablespoons cornstarch
½ cup sugar
½ cup lukewarm water
4 egg yolks
¾ cups heavy cream
¾ cups whole milk
4 tablespoons peach schnapps
2 cups whipped cream

Instructions

In a medium bowl, whisk together the cornstarch and sugar. Add the water and whisk well. Add the egg yolks and beat until combined.
In a medium saucepan, heat the cream and milk until it is bubbly and just beginning to boil. Add half of the hot mixture to the cornstarch mixture while whisking.
Whisk the egg mixture back into the pan with the simmering cream and milk. Cook and whisk on medium-low heat until thick. Whisk like you mean it! You don't want it to scorch.
Remove from heat and add the peach schnapps. (Stand back - the fumes will get you!)
Allow the cream to cool completely, stirring occasionally. Lightly cover with waxed paper while it is cooling so it doesn't form a skin on top.
Once the pastry cream is cool, fold whipped cream into it.
Keep chilled until ready to use.

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To assemble the trifle:

Reserve 3/4 cup heavy cream for making the Peachy Creamy Pastry Cream. Whip the rest of the quart (about 3 cups) until thick. Add 1/2 cup powdered sugar and whip until stiff peaks form. Keep chilled until ready to use.
Make pastry cream.
Cut the angel food cake into small cubes (or tear it, if you prefer).
Peel and cut peaches into bite-size pieces, dipping them in lemon water (or Sprite…a helpful hint from my friend Cydnee at Tampa Cake Girl) to keep them from browning. (Reserve a few slices for the top)
In a trifle dish, layer CAKE, PASTRY CREAM, PEACHES, WHIPPING CREAM. Repeat. If you have room, top with a layer of cake and then pipe whipping cream on the top. Decorate with peach slices, if desired.

I was making cookies and the man tried to snag one. When I explained I needed them for a photo shoot first, he said:
“You’re not nice to me, and it’s almost my birthday.”
“But it’s not your birthday. I don’t have to be nice to you until your birthday”
“Yes you do, you have to start building up. Nicer and nicer and nicer until my birthday, and then taper off slowly.”
Hmmmm. I didn’t know there was an actual protocol for this. I tried. Kinda.

Here’s what The Man got for his birthday. He calls it his Cabela’s Club Member coffin. It kind of creeps me out, especially when he folds his hands on his chest.

The Man hurt his back and was flat on the guest bed (which is firmer, lower) calling for cookies, medicine, etc. I had just put a load of wash into the dryer when he yelled loudly for me and I went running.
“That comes right in the window when it’s open” he said.
I was drawing a blank. “What’s coming in the window?”
“The dryer”
“The dryer” He was taking pain meds, but really?? “The dryer’s coming through the window?”
“Can’t you smell it? The wet. The fabric softener”
I wasn’t using fabric softener, so…it must have been “the wet.”
I closed the window.

My gardening pants have been slowly giving away in the back. Today was the day. The Man said “I think we need to go find you a patch kit”. I felt around, and…..oh, crap. And I’d been bent over weeding with my butt to the road. Lovely. At least I wasn’t wearing my polka dotted undies. At least I was WEARING undies.

I usually get a real kick out of the search engine phrases people use when they find my blog. But…Oh, MAN! This one was either hysterically funny or disgustingly gross, depending on your tolerance level. I have to admit I mostly laughed.

I noticed that I was getting a whole lot of views on an old Fly on the Wall post from a certain group of people. The tough thing is, it will be hard for me to explain it to you without using words that will bring more people with this…uh…inclination to my blog.

I know!!! When I get to one of those words I’ll bold it and spell it backwards, okay?

I posted an appetizer last year in my Fly on the Wall. It was for a baby shower, and featured refried bean filled puff pastry ypoop srepaid. Apparently this was very attractive to a group of people who like to get together and change each other’s srepaid, and they were kind of excited about serving my appetizers. I’m pretty open-minded and tolerant, but this is a little over the top for me. The views have been tapering off, which is a very good thing. Whatever you do, do NOT Google “repaid parties”.

On that cheery note, (and I realize that since you’re a fly, that might not have been too gross for you) please go visit these other wonderful blogs!

Baking In a Tornado
Just a Little Nutty
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Spatulas on Parade
Stacy Sews and Schools
The Momisodes
Someone Else’s Genius
Menopausal Mother
Go Mama O
Follow Me Home

Fly on the Wall – June

Posted on June 20, 2014 by Lorinda

Each month a group of bloggers gets together to write about the little things that happened in their homes that you’d only know about if you were a fly on their walls. This month there are 15 of us, so you have your choice of drama! As for me, I’m not happy with you at all, little fly.

This month, I have a bone to pick with you. Why can’t you earn your keep instead of being a freeloader on my wall? Now I’m going to have to buy some ladybugs to help out with the bug situation in the garden. You can eat poop, right? Then WHY can’t you eat Colorado Potato Beetles? Or at least the eggs. Here I am, welcoming you into my home every month, and you won’t even help out? Pfffft.

These little guys are back this year. It was an ongoing war last gardening season, with hundreds and hundreds of beetles picked off the potato plants by hand. They were moved to a ~~bucket of soapy water~~ lovely house with a pool. It appears this year will be more of the same. Picking off the bugs is the easy part (if you don’t consider my permanent stoop from bending over like that). It’s those darn eggs they lay under the leaves. Hard to find, and when you DO find them they have to be (eeeeeuw) squished. Ugh.

This is war. WAR, I say!

I belong to a Homemakers Club, which is something you probably won’t find if you live in the city. Here, it’s a thing. We have a token youngster or two, but most of us are well past middle age, with many women in their 80’s and even a couple of ladies in their 90’s. I love them all dearly, but as you can imagine, our meetings are pretty sedate. Uneventful…

Until the last one.

For an activity, one of the ladies was showing us how to fold hand towels like they do on the cruise ships. My partner and I were given instructions for making a monkey, and after 10 minutes of frustration I gave up. She tried a little longer, but we both finally admitted defeat, though we got a lot of laughs out of the attempt. One lady was making a swan. She held it up for all to see, and either I was the first to notice, or just the first to say it out loud, but it looked exactly like…well…something that could have used a little blue pill.

I started laughing and delicately choked out something about a “phallic symbol”, worried that I would shock some of the more elderly members. I obviously didn’t give them enough credit, because let me tell you…that thing made the rounds! Everyone at our table had to have a turn playing with it, posing it in different ways. Hysterical (and surprisingly earthy) conversations made for a refreshingly fun meeting! And everyone thinks we just read minutes and have bake sales. Hah!

Anyone who knows me well would describe me as “organized”, “meticulous”, “efficient”…even “tidy”.
Excuse me while I clean up the wine that I just snorted out my nose!
I thought you might want to take a look at my awesome filing system. You know, for bills, receipts, etc.
Behold, my purse. It’s not a big purse; I bought it at a children’s store! It was, however, getting a little heavy. Makes for a sore shoulder, you know?

My poor, little, abused purse.

Here is what came OUT of that purse. I haven’t had the courage to sort through it yet. I’m pretty sure I will find grocery lists ranging from yesterday back to Christmas. The Man wanted me to plant some funny stuff in there, but I think this is horrifying enough.

My purse, deconstructed.

You know what’s really bad? I have a similar purse hanging in the closet that should be thrown away, but I haven’t done that because it has all of my 2012 “filing” in it.

I need an intervention.

Three weeks ago I took a picture of the garden after the tomatoes were planted. The rows looked nice and clean, with very few weeds…so glad I took a picture of that, just as a wonderful, wonderful memory. June bites me on the butt every year. I get stuff planted and then the weather takes a dive, with torrents of rain, thunderstorms, hail…you name it. So while I’m huddling inside and the veggie plants are sulking outside, the weeds are taking advantage of the water and cool temperatures and exploding. By the time the sun comes back and I go out to survey my beautiful garden, the weeds have taken over. Every.Single.Year. I fight a good battle but never, ever win the war.

Today I worked on the onions. Here is what I got weeded:

So pretty after they’ve been weeded.

And here is what I have left to do:

There really are onions between those weeds!

Pray for me.

I love getting mail. Well, real mail that doesn’t have “final notice” printed on it in red, or “Lorinda, please come back to us” on it. So when I got an unexpected package in the mail from my friend Mary, I was really excited…and rightfully so! She brought THIS back from her vacation to Hawaii.

She and I now have two matching Christmas tops! There is nothing she could have brought me that would have been more thrilling (well…maybe a huge box of those chocolate covered macadamia nuts. Are you getting this Mary?) because I rock Christmas shirts.

If you were following me last Christmas, you’ll know that I have enough Christmas shirts to wear a different one each day of December – kind of like a Nativity calendar. That is, I did have that many, until my evil daughter made me throw away the one with the fake collar. I admit, it was pretty lame.

So now I’m back in action. And do you know what????

Plugin supplied by Your Christmas Countdown

Bwa ha ha ha. Only 187 days left ’til Christmas!

It’s pretty much been all work, no play this month. But next month my grandkids will be here visiting, so I should have LOTS of great material for you. For now, here are some other places to buzz by and check out. See you next month!
Lorinda

Baking In a Tornado
Just a Little Nutty
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Spatulas on Parade
Stacy Sews and Schools
The Momisodes
Someone Else’s Genius
Battered Hope
Menopausal Mother
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy
Juicebox Confession
Black Sheep Mom
Go Mama O
elleroy was here

Fly on the Wall – Rated “R” for Rowdy

Posted on May 23, 2014 by Lorinda

Welcome to a Fly on the Wall group post. Today 12 bloggers are inviting you to catch a glimpse of what you’d see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes, and I’m one of them. Come on in and buzz around my house.

I LOVE May, for so many reasons. My favorite holiday is in May. Would you like to take a guess at what it is?

No, it’s not Cinco de Mayo, though I did enjoy a lovely huckleberry margarita with my enchiladas.

No, it’s not Mother’s Day, though I had a very nice day.

No, it’s not Memorial Day. Besides, that hasn’t even happened yet.

Give up?

Planting

It is NAKED GARDENING DAY! Last year I declined to participate. In all fairness, the weather was pretty crappy. This year I had no excuse, so…yeah…well, at least long enough for The Man to get some pics. He had great fun trying to get the least flattering angles (and positions) possible. Thanks, big guy.

Tilling

Um…tractoring?

There are much worse pics, but I’ll “draw the curtain of charity over the rest of the scene” and spare you. Oh, wait…one more! I made a dirt angel. And then soaked in a bath.

On Mother’s DayThe Man made me breakfast. We had toast, fried eggs, and thin-sliced venison steaks. Delicious! And he didn’t leave much of a mess. I felt spoiled, especially since he reminds me that I am not his mother. Hmmm…sometimes I wonder.

When I told him the one thing I wanted for Mother’s Day was for him to pet our cat (He doesn’t like cats, and suffers because I insist on letting them in the house.) he looked at her and said: “She has venomous eyes.” Seriously? She has CAT EYES! She got insulted and wandered off. Maybe next year.

My baby chicks aren’t exactly babies anymore. They’ve officially reached the gawky adolescent stage that we all remember so vividly. I let them loose in the greenhouse on a nice overcast day (so we wouldn’t have a lot of roasted game hens for dinner; it gets hot in there!) and didn’t think it through. Getting them from their little brooder box into a tub to haul out to the greenhouse was pretty easy, though they screamed like I was killing them. Getting them from the greenhouse back into the tub was a challenge. I think a few of them gave themselves concussions trying to escape through the greenhouse walls. No more outings for them! By this time next month they will be in the “Big Girl Coop”. Sigh…..they grow up so quickly.

Speaking of chickens:

The Man takes great glee in pointing it out to me when I leave the oven on. He doesn’t merely turn it off, he barks loudly:
“Oven off?”
And though I hate to give him the satisfaction, I then have to admit I forgot. (I do this often.) So the other day we were having a very early dinner because I had to get good pictures of the meal for a column I was doing, and when he went back in the kitchen for a second helping, this is how the conversation went:

“Oven off?”
“I thought I DID turn it off!”
“It says 350”
I blinked, confused. Then I looked up at the clock.
“Um. That’s what time it is.”
Hah! Take THAT! He had the decency to look a little embarrassed. Fist pump! Small victories…

I was making homemade tomato sauce, an all-day project. I tasted it and said “yummm. I could just eat THIS for dinner.”
Him: if you add meat, cheese, and noodles, I could too.”
He loves his spaghetti.

My Rowdy Facebook page hit 4,000 likes this month. That was HUGE for me – very exciting! (If even 10% of those people actually read my blog I’d be in hog heaven, but I’m still glad to see them on my page.) I finally produced a cake I’d been dreaming about for months, just in the nick of time to celebrate the milestone. I’ve got to tell you, I put a lot of time and effort into that cake.

But here’s what kills me. Last Fall I did a simple Pumpkin Dump Cake, not thinking it would get much interest. I got thousands of views, and a whole lot of shares. The most I’ve ever gotten for anything. This cake? This cake I slaved over? Maybe 40 views altogether. So, take pity on me and at least go and see my Apple Blossom Cake. You don’t have to read the whole thing, but it would sure boost my morale to see it do better than the dump cake for just one day. Otherwise I’m going to start making more dump cakes. Every flavor known to man!!

Russ: “So here’s something. The word “plus”. P-L-U-S”

I nodded with a quizzical look on my face. He often asks me to confirm spellings, but this seemed awfully basic. Then he continued: “I guess if you remember that, you won’t spell “pus” wrong.”
Um…got it. Thank you.

This was actually not quite as random as it seemed. Someone on Facebook had asked her readers to give their most despised word. The word we could go our whole life without hearing again. I wrote “puss” (meaning “pus”) and then realized I’d misspelled it, so I was freaking out loudly as I scrambled to edit my comment. Obviously, he noticed. I don’t like either word, but “pus” is definitely the worst. I probably will remember how to spell it from now on.

Crazy Daisy loves water. I mean, this girl love love LOVES water. She goes nuts when I’m trying to water the garden. I have to keep stopping so I can aim the hose at her. She prefers it full blast, so she can open her mouth and drink it, making disgusting slurping and snorting sounds. I don’t know how she can do that (the water comes out fast), but she does. She’s easy to amuse, anyhow.

I spent about 3 hours of total frustration trying to load a video of her on here. I may be stubborn, but there are limits and I hit mine. So you just get a photo.

The Man was cooking breakfast (yes, twice in one month!) and made a disgusted sound. He invited me to come in the kitchen and look at the gross egg he had just cracked open. I was busy and did NOT want to see a gross egg right before we ate, so I declined. He threw it away. Then another. And another! What the…I should have gone in there at that point, I guess. Later when I went to pull out the store bought eggs for a cake (older egg whites whip up better) there were some missing. He had thrown them away because the yolks were weird. They were pale, as store bought eggs are. We are so used to our orange colored yolks that he thought something was wrong with them! Yep…I think we officially just shed our “Coastie” status and should now be considered country folks. But if he starts calling me “Mother” he’s out on his ear.

The sun’s out and the chicken poop is warming up, little fly, so you might want to go buzz around outside for a while. Or better yet, try these fun blogs:

Baking In a Tornado
Just a Little Nutty
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Spatulas on Parade
Stacy Sews and Schools
The Momisodes
Someone Else’s Genius
Battered Hope
Menopausal Mother
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy
Sorry Kid, Your Mom Doesn’t Play Well With Others

Fly on the Wall – March

Posted on March 21, 2014 by Lorinda

Welcome to a Fly on the Wall group post. Today 14 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.

Let’s see, my buzzy friend. You hitched a ride in my car with me to California last month, survived a blizzard, had fun at Disneyland with my daughter and her family, and then you hung around with me while I was sick and being a most unpleasant house guest. That’s where we left the story last month.

We traveled to Modesto, you and I, to visit my oldest son and his wife. I spent a few days recuperating, dozing and reading, while you explored their back yard. (They have 2 dogs, so I KNOW what you were doing out there. Gross.)

In the evenings we talked, ate, and drank wine, and I learned things about my kids’ teenage years that I’m probably glad I didn’t know at the time. If any of you readers have young children, your day will come! Usually when I hear these stories I nod wisely and say “We knew more than you think we did” which makes us look omniscient and makes them think they never really got away with anything. You might save that little gem for later when they tell you stuff that makes your hair stand on end.

From there I made my way north again. Since my poor grandchildren had been stuck with “Gross Grandma” for two weeks while I was sick and crabby, I had to try a little damage control. I was heading to my cousin’s in Oregon, but had enough time to put on makeup and curl my hair and sweep through Redding with a gift for each child. See? I can be “Fun Grandma!” I brought Taunee the Ken doll she wanted badly. I was there less than two hours, but by the time I left Ken had hooked up with Barbie, was sweet talking her, and they’d produced a baby. That guy works fast!!

I was off and running again, north to Oregon.

More good food, wine, and a comfy bed at Cousin John and his lovely wife Kathy’s home. I could really get used to having others cook for me! After a couple of days of pampering, I felt good enough to head home. Luckily, the weather was delightful and I had long (12 hours) but uneventful drive home. Yes! I know I was happy to tumble out of the car at home, and I’m sure my little fly companion was too. I came home to a clean house, dinner in the oven, and a relieved husband. Sweet.

Egg production has been down in the chicken yard, but every time we start talking about…um…eliminating some of the old chickens, they start laying like crazy. Here’s an egg we got recently. I can just see one of the old girls going: “Must.Produce.Egg.Gruuuunt. Nope, that’s the best I can do.”

What the….

Really? That’s all you’ve got?!

Big whoop.

And, while I have eggs on my mind, The Man came up with an idea for little cakes that turned out so cute. Here’s a link to my blog for Deviled Cakes. I’m going to put them on the table during our Ladies Spring Tea next month and see the funny reactions. Maybe I’ll get a couple of good pictures for next month’s Fly on the Wall.

Yes, these really are CAKES!

If you think Caesar had it rough, look at what the Ides of March brought us:

Ugh. Not the day I was hoping for…

I love winter, and I love spring, but I really dread this in-between mess. Beware the Ides of March, indeed!

Easter candy is my most uncontrollable guilty pleasure. When the kids were little I’d buy tons of candy for “decorating” but would put the boring stuff like jelly beans and salt water taffy in the cute little bowls and hide the good stuff for myself. The Reeses peanut butter eggs, Cadbury mini-eggs, Russell Stover marshmallow eggs…all were stashed in closets, or sometimes in the freezer disguised as bags of “broccoli”. I know, I know…I’m unspeakably ashamed. My children will probably end up on an analyst’s couch one day talking about how withholding their mother was.

I admit I had a carton of marshmallow eggs hidden in the baking cabinet this year, but for the most part, I’ve gotten so much better about sharing. I HAVE!

Mine! Mine! Mine!

Speaking of Easter, every year I make sugar eggs. I don’t know why, exactly; it’s just an urge. Bags of icing of every color, sugar eggs in various stages of completion, sugar egg carcasses that bit the dust…my ~~dining room table~~ craft table is covered with debris. Rather than clean it up, I have convinced myself that I must make more sugar eggs. There’s no sense in cleaning it up if I’m going to make more, right??? Um. Anyone want an egg?

Hooooeeeeee. Did I do that?

Right now there is more sugar flying than flour, but still…I love this gift my daughter made me!

Love that girl!

That’s it for me. It’s been a pretty dull month here. My youngest son (aka: Lord Voldemort) will be here next week, so I should have some good stories to tell. Until then, try buzzing around these other homes and see what’s happening!

Baking In a Tornado
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Follow Me Home
Spatulas on Parade
Stacy Sews and Schools
The Momisodes
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy
Someone Else’s Genius
Pink Heart String
Spinster Snacks
Juicebox Confession

January Fly on the Wall (my 1 year anniversary edition!)

Posted on January 24, 2014 by Lorinda

I can’t believe it’s been a year since I joined Fly and started doing my dirty laundry in public! I love this venue and am always willing to spill my guts, so writing a Fly on the Wall post each month is fun and challenging and…cathartic. If you’ve missed any of them, you can always scroll down my home page and choose Fly on the Wall from the categories on the right. You’ll learn more than you ever wanted to know about me AND my reluctant family.

Hubby has lightened up (or just been slowly broken down) over the year and allows me to post semi-embarrassing photos of him. However, “He Who Shall Not Be Named on Social Media Sites” (or Lord Voldemort) is still holding tough. I tried to sneak a photo of him in there a while back and he is still in a snit over it. Meh.

In case you’re new to the whole “Fly” phenomenon, a group of bloggers gets together each month and describes what a fly on the wall of their house would hear and see. Things that either aren’t usually discussed in public or that aren’t worth writing an entire blog about. YOU are the fly, and here is what was happening in my house. (The links to the other 13 bloggers’ posts are at the bottom of the page. You don’t think I’d give them to you before you had the chance to read my post, do you? I’m not that nice!)

Somehow I manage to write posts, comment and opinionate on 5,847 Facebook statuses a day, and edit photos with an archaic laptop that is on its last legs. I broke the hinges so the lid flops willy-nilly. I vacuumed off the “U” key cover. I somehow managed to eliminate my editing option and now have to move each photo to Picmonkey to crop and save. I also managed to blow out 2 of the 3 ports, which is causing me grief. And my mouse turned its little belly up and died. You have been hearing some VERY bad language this month, and I’m truly sorry about offending your little fly ears. (I’m embarrassed to admit how long I spent at this point trying to put ears on a photo of a fly. I give up. Guess you’ll have to just imagine it.)

You heard something like this:

“Oh, crap. This is hard. I can’t do this without my F*@/%*G mouse! How am I supposed to copy this? It won’t let me scroll down! What the @*?/% did it just do? Holy s%*t!” Well, I’m sure you get the general idea.

Oh, such a sick little puppy.

And then Lord V (who is getting more impatient as each day progresses) has to come and show me how the youngsters do it, with their finger on that little square part of the computer. He gets really upset when I use two hands. Apparently this is like driving with two feet. Unacceptable. I am supposed to be able to hold down the left clicky thing with my thumb and then move the cursor with the finger on the SAME HAND! He assures me it will come naturally after some practice.

When he’s not looking, I cheat. Don’t squeal on me, okay?

The good thing is, he’s so tired of helping me that he’s promised to bring his “old” laptop back the next time he comes this way and give it to me. It is light-years newer and better than this one, so I’m truly thrilled to be getting my son’s hand-me-downs. Pathetic, huh?

In spite of this handicap, I will bravely carry on.

I’m sure all the bad language in the beginning of this post has clued you in, but if not…and you think that THIS…

…is what I’m like, well, hey. That works for me! Someone else thought so too, because I got a SUNSHINE AWARD from friend and fellow blogger Tamara of Confessions of a part-time working mom. She’s delusional, but I love her. Mwah!

For Christmas Eve our good friends Missy and Joseph braved the ice and snow and came over for dinner. We feasted on crab chowder and french rolls, and they brought all kinds of snacky stuff. The highlight for me was Joseph’s fudge. He substituted Irish Cream for the evaporated milk. He also used chopped unsalted mixed nuts in place of walnuts. May I just say…….burp?

I’m really glad everything turned out well, (though between the eggnog and the wine, I probably wouldn’t have cared too much) because the next day – Christmas Day – I had a major baking fail. It happens. Doesn’t this look like a yummy pumpkin pie? We didn’t have one for Thanksgiving and someone was pouting about it, so I made a nice one with the last of my expensive brandy in it.

Hooray!!! Pumpkin pie for Christmas dinner!

Hooray!!! Pumpkin pie for Christmas dessert!

Sigh. Next time I’ll remember the sugar!

And in case you’re wondering, no amount of whipped cream (or brandy) in the world can salvage a sugarless pumpkin pie. The chickens loved it, though. Merry Christmas, ladies.

Here’s justice for you: whenever Lord Vodemort is over here, one of his favorite activities is “brushing” the hair off of our yellow lab with his hand (he calls it petting. Hah.) and depositing it on the carpet or furniture, with a promise to clean it up later. I’m sure you can guess that “later” never happens.

So. I combed Otis every chance I got, and used the pile of yellow fur to make Lord V a special pillow for Christmas. It’s really nice – with cougar and deer and bear on it. He doesn’t have a clue what’s inside, and unless he actually reads one of my blog posts, he will never know.

But I will. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha.

Making the pillow. (Not enough hair – had to use some poly too.)

Otis liked it!

I’m almost through with the physical therapy for my ankle. It bends all directions. It’s pretty strong. It’s only painful if I stand for hours at a time. I can even walk down stairs now without going sideways like a crab. Do you know what I can’t do? What I fail miserably at and will probably keep me in therapy for the rest of my life? I can’t balance.

Now…I never could balance well, but since right now I can balance better on my uninjured ankle, it’s obvious that my bad ankle has taken my natural uncoordination to a new level. And not being able to balance well would just lead to more slips and sprains…or worse. So I am practicing.

I love my therapist, I really do. She’s awesome, and funny, and kind. Except when she puts me on a big half-ball. Flat on the bottom, domed on the top. Spongy. Hard to stand on. Since I kept falling off when I tried to stand on it, we graduated to the next step and she THREW BALLS AT ME while I clung precariously on this instrument of torture. You know what else I suck at? Throwing a ball. Ask my son – I can’t even throw a ball from my chair to the couch where he is sitting. So of course I am expected to stand on a ball, throwing a ball.

I just can’t talk about it anymore. Sniff.

Last Sunday was the big game. The game that is sending the Seattle Seahawks to the Superbowl! My daughter and her family now live in California, but still were loyally rooting for the Hawks…even at a 49ers party they went to. Here is grandson Mack “persuading” a young 49ers fan that the Hawks were the best team!

His mom swears he was going in for a kiss, but I see him looking for the jugular.

I usually end with some embarrassing photo or story about my husband, but for the life of me I can’t come up with one this month. I’m truly sorry – I’ll watch him like a hawk next month!

Here are 12 fun blogs to go visit. See what kind of craziness they’ve been up to!

Baking In a Tornado
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Follow Me Home
Spatulas on Parade
The Momisodes
Stacy Sews and Schools
Searching for Sanity
The Lazy Mom’s Cooking Blog
Pink Heart String
Spinster Snacks

Fly on the Wall – November

Posted on November 22, 2013 by Lorinda

Have you ever wished you could be a fly on the wall in someone’s home? Each month a group of brave bloggers lets you in through that pesky hole in the screen so you can see what really goes on when they think no one is watching. This month there are 13 of us who are doing our dirty laundry in public. Come and see! When you’re finished with my post, please click on the links below and visit the other 12 crazy women.

Whew, what an eventful month! Not all sunshine and roses, but enough drama to rate my own reality show.

Love me some babies!

I babysat twin baby boys for a weekend. Holy CRAP! They are wonderful, sweet, easygoing babies, but it’s been a few decades since I was solely responsible for even ONE infant. Two was a little daunting (I’m glad I’m not footing that diaper bill) but so much fun. I’d been needing a baby fix and I got it. Sweet gummy baby smiles made up for all the diapers, even if I did come home smelling like eau de spit up!

Happy Halloween!

So much for Halloween around here. No trick or treaters. Nada. The first few years we lived here I bought candy bars “just in case”. The kind I like, of course…Butterfingers, Reese’s, Snickers. I’ve finally given up hope, and the only concession to Halloween was my “BOO!” shirt and these contacts. I think the wrinkles scare me more than the eyeballs, though. Eeeeeek!

PLEASE don’t vote for The Rowdy Baker…we want our cook back!!!

Poor guys – life was pretty rough for them during the Blogger Idol competition. Just when my sprained ankle was healing and the man got to turn in his apron, I got all involved with Idol. It was a blast, but it took a lot out of me, and meals were pretty much ~~uninspired~~ nonexistent. They were hungry. Oh, so hungry.

Then the ups and downs of being a contestant on Blogger Idol came to a halt. I wrote a post that I loved, but unfortunately the judges were unimpressed. So much for fame and fortune! I was on my way to a funeral six hours away when my husband called to tell me I’d been eliminated. I was bummed – but under the sad circumstances, getting the boot from Idol didn’t seem all that devastating. There’s nothing like losing a good friend to put losing a contest into perspective!

The whole Idol experience was…well…eye opening! Behind the scenes is a raunchy, sometimes shockingly explicit, hysterically funny world where drama runs rampant and egos are often bruised. I met some wonderful people. In fact (yes, shameless plug here) my friend Jen is still going strong and is in the top five. Voting is today, until midnight central time, so if you have 10 seconds to spare, would you please click on this link and vote for Real Life Parenting? You don’t have to sign in or anything…just scroll down to the blue area and vote! If I couldn’t win the coveted #1 spot, I’d sure love to see her get it.

Bad boy Otis has pushed his luck again. At least it didn’t involve pulling stuffing out of furniture this time, but….EEEEEUUUUWW! What the…?

WHAT is that SMELL??!!

His first bath. He didn’t like it.

Hunting season came and went. We’re 3 for 3, folks! 3 for 3! Here’s how it went down:

Youngest son (aka: Lord Voldemort) got his buck first. He worked hard for that deer. Hours of scouting and setting up cameras in the woods paid off and he got a very nice whitetail. He rubbed it in a bit, because his dad hadn’t gotten one yet. He’d wave his little hunting tag holder around, talking about how light it was feeling since he’d tagged a bear and a deer.

I bought my first license this year – not because I wanted to hunt, but because I’d told Lord V that I would buy a deer tag if he would watch Chicago all the way through, which he did. Now, technically I just had to buy a tag. I didn’t say I would actually shoot a deer! But those tags are $45 – and I hated the thought that it would go unfilled. There were also some heated “discussions” about the implied meaning of the bet. So…I said I’d try, but didn’t know if I could actually pull the trigger.

You know that healing ankle I talked about? Turns out it wasn’t really healing. It was just waiting to bite me in the ass again. Apparently I ruptured one ligament completely and tore another. So here I am in an air boot, in plenty of pain (when I’m not actively taking…ahem… liquid pain relief) and I’m supposed to bag a deer? I took the easy way out. We have 20 acres and a lot of deer on our hill, so I sat in the shop with my .243 pointed out the window and got lucky at daybreak on day two. I got a perfect shot at 240 yards. I think the distance helped, because I couldn’t see his big beautiful eyes.

Bittersweet moment

My deer was smaller than Lord V’s, but we still joined forces to tease and torture The Man. We were pretty relentless, but it’s not often that we get that opportunity. He paid us back by getting a buck that was very similar to Lord V’s.

So…guess what I’ve been doing?

Canning venison. Lots of venison.

You know how I always tell a story on my husband? This isn’t a story, per se. It’s more like me, venting. I try not to whine on Facebook, but I posted this and it got some interesting responses.

I was complaining because there were a whole bunch of really cute shoes on a website I was in, and it had just occurred to me that in all likelihood I would never be able to wear heels again because of this stupid ankle. That’s a big deal. I love heels, though I rarely have an opportunity to wear them. I’m short – heels help! The man just looked at me blankly and said “Why would you want to wear them at 60?” OK. In the first place, I am NOT 60 yet. Not for 14 months and 9 days. And…(sputter)…seriously? I’m just supposed to throw in the towel and start wearing sensible shoes and a plastic rain cap? I was alternating between finding this hysterically funny and horribly insulting.

Excuse me, but I’ll have to catch you next month. I believe there’s a Lawrence Welk Marathon coming on. ..

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