Fly on the Wall – December

Fly on the Wall

Have you ever been curious about what goes on in other people’s homes when they think no one is watching? (hint: you might need a little help, if you know what I mean.) Here’s your chance to give in to your voyeuristic tendencies and be a fly on the wall as a group of brave bloggers opens the screen to let you in once a month. Watch and learn, my buzzy little friend! After you’ve read my post, click on the links at the bottom and fly over to to read the others.

fly1gifcropped

There have been so many things going on this month, I’m afraid you’ll drop from the wall and land with your little feet in the air, buzzing pathetically in circles by the time you read through this post. (Cheery thought, huh? Fa la la la la.) I don’t have kids to throw me little one-line humorous lines, so I have to resort to telling you all the fun stuff I’ve been up to.

Before I start listing all the festive fun stuff, there was an interesting conversation at Thanksgiving. Youngest son (Lord Voldemort) was here, and it was just the three of us. This would usually make The Man very happy, since he detests confusion and noise and people – especially on holidays. He had the house and all that food to himself, but was still a bit grumpy and…well…bossy.

Me to The Man: “Well, YOU woke up kind of bossy this morning.”
Lord V chimed in: “Yeah, about 5 decades ago.”
The Man: “That’s because there are so many people in this world that are intellectually unarmed. They need guidance.”

What can you possibly say to that?

fly1gifcropped

If you’ve read my blogs in the past you’ll know I’m just a wee bit OCD. I like to count stuff. I count dishes as I load them in the dishwasher. I count laundry as I fold it. I guess it’s just a way to relieve boredom and keep me on task. So all of the December countdowns I’ve been involved with have been so.much.fun!

There was 12 Cakes of Christmas, where a group of bloggers each chose a day to present a festive cake. Mine was a Brownie Bombe. What a fun bunch of ladies to work with!

There is my “24 Shirts of Christmas” countdown I’m currently doing on my personal Facebook page. Yes, I actually own 24 Christmas Shirts. Here are a few of my favorites:
MiscDec2013vixenshirt dec 11

 

 

 

And there was a fun virtual advent calendar a bunch of us did for Karen, of Baking in a Tornado (the organized genius behind Fly on the Wall.) We each picked a day to post something fun or sentimental for her to “open”. I created a cake recipe for her using hot cinnamon liqueur. You can see it here on Day 16.

Add in an Orange Cranberry cake for my Yummy Northwest Column and one for the Homemaker’s Club luncheon, and flour has been flying.


Orange Cranberry Cake

fly1gifcropped

Then (cue Johnny Mathis singing “We Need a Little Christmas” ) I saw a really cool log cabin made out of pretzel rods on Facebook. The reasonable version of this creation can be found on Worth Pinning’s awesome blog.

I, however, don’t like to do things the easy way. I prefer to stay up until 3:00 a.m. swearing like an ironworker. I had to complete my cabin by the next morning because my friend and fellow blogger Stacia, of the blog Dried-on-Milk, had challenged me to a pretzel cabin competition, and I’m not one to back away from something like that! To hell with the grandkids’ presents…the cabin came first!

I invited anyone and everyone to join in the fun on my Rowdy Baker web page, but….crickets. I think that made it official: Stacia and I were the only nutcases willing to throw reason aside in the middle of December and work on a totally non-essential project!

Here’s how it looked when I started. Um -the wine was just to get the creative juices flowing. And to lessen my frustration when trying to notch the brittle pretzels.

Ready, Set, GO!

Ready, Set, GO!

And…later. Much, much later:

Making a huge mess.

Making a huge mess.

How can you build a log house when the logs all look like this?

How can you build a log house when the logs all look like this?

The final result.

The final result.

Was it worth all the time, money, and patience? Hell, yeah!

For Stacia’s – ahem – unique take on the competition, check out her blog! Virtual Challenge

The man tolerates my messes because he has no choice. The kitchen looked like Christmas had exploded, and he just walked around looking dazed. We had our 35th anniversary this month…but this mess almost sent him over the edge. It can’t be easy living with me!

fly1gifcropped

In case anyone thinks I just ruined my chances for Grandmother of the Year, I want it known that after two all-nighters I managed to get both of the girls’ presents done and shipped JUST in time. A few years ago my youngest granddaughter, Taunee, was given an enormous candy cane for Christmas by her auntie and uncle. Taunee hates peppermint, but they didn’t know that. They got her a nice gift too, but her reaction was priceless and will always be repeated every year by the whole family:

“Whyfor you think peppermint is a good present? This is the most ruinist Christmas EVER!”

I did not want to be responsible for making any Christmas worse than that for the poor child! However…and this was The Man’s idea…we decorated our granddaughter’s presents with packages of Sixlets (you know, those little fake chocolate candies in the bright, toxic, food coloring shells) and then in the hopes that they would sneak and eat them before they were allowed to actually open the gifts, we included this photo inside one of the presents.nose candyHopefully they won’t read this and spoil the “surprise”!

fly1gifcropped

Now buzz off and check out these other blogs. And, MERRY CHRISTMAS to you!

Baking In a Tornado
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Follow Me Home
Spatulas on Parade
Sorry Kid, Your Mom Doesn’t Play Well With Others
The Momisodes
Moms Don’t Say That
Juicebox Confession
Writer B is Me
Dates 2 Diapers
Kiss My List Adventure into Domesticland

Fly on the Wall – November

Fly on the Wall

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.
fly1gifcropped

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

 

Love me some babies!

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!

fly1gifcropped

Happy Halloween!

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!

fly1gifcropped

Poor, neglected menfolk.

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.

fly1gifcropped

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??!!

WHAT is that SMELL??!!

His first bath. He didn't like it.

His first bath. He didn’t like it.

fly1gifcropped

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

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.

Canning venison. Lots of venison.

fly1gifcroppedYou 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. ..

fly1gifcropped

Check out these fun blogs!!!

Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Follow Me Home
Moore Organized Mayhem
Spatulas on Parade
Sorry Kid, Your Mom Doesn’t Play Well With Others
The Momisodes
Moms Don’t Say That
Juicebox Confession

Fly on the Wall – October

Fly on the Wall

It’s time for Fly on the Wall again! Each month you have the opportunity to see what’s really going on in the homes of 13 bloggers when they think no one is looking. As a fly on the wall, you’ll be privy to the dirt (in my case, figurative and literal) that others never see.
I hope you’ll read my post and then click on the links below and visit the other 12 crazies!

fly1gifcropped
This is the time of year that makes me frantic. Everything hits at once! I planted 300 garlic plants, canned two batches of applesauce and ten jars of huckleberry jam, froze tomato sauce, and sorted potatoes. What I haven’t done yet is prune all the raspberry and blueberry plants, cut down the asparagus, dry and grind garlic, turn the other giant basket of apples into sauce, and clean house, Why am I not getting things done? Read on….

Rowdy Facebook page hit 2,000 "likes"!

Rowdy Facebook page hit 2,000 “likes”!

It’s been a crazy-good month for me. You saw me shrieking and dancing when I got chosen as one of the thirteen finalists for Blogger Idol. There was another round of happy dancing when my Facebook page for The Rowdy Baker hit 2,000 “likes”, and some jaw-dropping astonishment when a frumpy looking little dessert (that tasted like HEAVEN, thank you very much) went crazy and gave me a shocking number of hits on my blog and Pinterest.

And now, after two weekly assignments, I’m still alive in Blogger Idol, thanks to votes from family, friends, and readers (they’re the same thing, right?) and probably possibly drunk judges. In just a few hours I’ll find out if my third post and reader votes got me through another week.

For our first assignment, we had to write our own eulogy. That was kind of creepy. I went in a strange direction and wrote a poem. I was worried that I’d made a huge mistake, but the judges were kind – or just befuddled – and I made it through.

For our second assignment, we had to write a newspaper article about a fictional crime we’d committed. They liked it. WHEW! Safe.

For our third assignment we had to write about something we did that we didn’t want to do. I wrote a sad piece (my daughter even called it a “Debbie Downer”) that made me cry the whole time I was writing and editing it. I’m hoping it was enough to move me into Week 4, which will be a double elimination (why does that make me want to giggle?) week. Scary.

Please check my blog every Wednesday at noon when the new assignments are posted to see if I’m still “in it to win it”. If I am, you can help me by voting. It’s so easy – and there will be simple instructions waiting for you.

fly1gifcropped

I don’t want to be indelicate here, since you are, after all, a Musca domestica, but I have this great joke my sister Khym sent me:

WHY SENIORS STILL NEED NEWSPAPERS

I was visiting my daughter last night when I asked if I could borrow a newspaper.

“This is the 21st century,” she said. “We don’t waste money on newspapers. Here, use my iPad.

I can tell you this: that fly never knew what hit him!

fly1gifcropped

See this face? You’ll probably be seeing a lot more of it. This crazy middle grandchild of mine just got through filming a show in LA. Can’t give you any more details, but she’s definitely on her way. You can be sure I’ll keep you posted!

Have your people call my people!

Have your people call my people!

fly1gifcropped

The cats are working it. All spring and summer they will have very little to do with us, occasionally gracing us with their presence long enough to scarf down a bowl of Meow Mix, but then heading right back to the front door. “Don’t pet me.”  “Don’t touch me.”  “Do NOT try to put me on your lap.” You’ve got to figure, warm weather brings excellent hunting conditions and these cats are hunters to the max.

But now the temps have dropped into the 20s at night, and all of a sudden they’re sucking up. Rubbing against our legs, rubbing against the dog, cuddling on the couch, getting in our laps. They KNOW what it feels like to be sleeping outside in sub-zero weather and are working every angle so they’ll get more warm couch time.

Hmpf. I’m a woman – I know how to hold a grudge! Every diffident strut past my proffered hand was logged in. Every huffy squirm when I tried to pick them up was tucked away as a direct insult. I will not be seduced into trusting them, only to be dumped in the spring when the swallows taunt them to play. Nope. I will be strong…indifferent…

Ahhhhhhhhhh. 72 degrees.

Ahhhhhhhhhh. 72 degrees.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’m such a sucker for a loud purr.

fly1gifcropped

OK, this is kind of crude, but The Man and I laughed for hours…DAYS over it. Let me set the stage for you. Youngest son (you know him as Lord Voldemort) is living in our guest room right now. The walls are horribly thin, and the toilet in the master bathroom is right against the wall where the headboard is in the guest room. You get the picture, right?

Lord V is the most disgusting 30 year old ever. He spends most of his time on a boat in Alaska, and hasn’t had any of his rough edges smoothed by a steady female companion. Some would say he’s a bit of a pig. YOU know, you’ve been on our wall all month. He doesn’t suppress any bodily noises at all, to my endless horror and his juvenile amusement. When I complained, he insisted that flatulence and burping whole sentences just got funnier each year.

So…he wanted to be awakened early in the morning to go hunting. Instead of knocking on his door, The Man knocked on the bathroom wall and then sat down on the commode. I don’t know what we had for dinner the night before, but I can tell you that it produced the longest, loudest, most sputtering noise ever. Lord V was totally grossed out. I have never EVER known him to get out of bed that fast. If he’d been a girl he’d have been squealing down the hall. Instead, he did the manly “yelling, bitching, swearing” thing. Obviously this young man can dish it out, but can’t take it. He was highly indignant that his dad had knocked first and then done that, bellyaching about it for days. Apparently it’s only funny if he is the one being gross. It served him right. I’d like to say that it made him change his ways, but we both know I’d be lying.

fly1gifcropped

I made some yummy cookies the other day. Too yummy, because they disappeared instantly. This should have been astonishing, because were at least six dozen of them, but I’ve seen this disappearing cookie phenomenon before, and wisely stashed some in the freezer. Unfortunately, I didn’t put them in a spinach bag like I used to, and The Man found them. I looked up from my book and there he was, on the couch, eating frozen cookies out of the bag. Rock hard frozen cookies!

I snapped a picture, and then when I mentioned the dreaded words “Fly on the Wall”, he gave me a rather unpleasant photo op. He didn’t think I’d share it, but after 35 years he should certainly know me better!
fly on wall pics 038fly on wall pics 040

fly1gifcropped

On that pleasant note, I hope you’ll buzz over to these other blogs and see what they’ve been up to.
Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Follow Me Home
Moore Organized Mayhem
Spatulas on Parade
Sorry Kid, Your Mom Doesn’t Play Well With Others
The Insomniac’s Dream
Trashy Blog
Dates 2 Diapers

Fly on the Wall – September

Fly on the Wall

Places, everyone! Um…watch out for that spider! I recommend staying up high on the wall, out of swatting reach but not in the corners where you’ll get tangled in the cobwebs. Now stop buzzing for a minute and listen!

Every month a group of bloggers gives you a glimpse of what you would see and hear if you were a fly on the wall in their homes. You’ll hear things that most people aren’t privy to, either because they aren’t important enough to be blog-worthy or because they’re inappropriate and potentially embarrassing. Don’t turn your little fly nose up at that; we KNOW what you like to eat outside! After you’ve skimmed through read my post, please click on the links at the bottom and check out the other 13 bloggers. See what they’ve been up to! fly1gifcropped September is my very favorite month. Would you care to guess why? Nope – I’m past the kids-back-to-school stuff. Huh uh, I don’t wear yoga pants. Nah, it’s too early for hot buttered rums! Give up? THE MAN GOES HUNTING!

For the small price of a two-day baking and cooking marathon, I get to send him and all the goodies out the door (buh bye!) for a week or more. Blessed silence! The whole bed! No cooking! This.Is.My.Time.

In theory. In reality, I actually got 4 days because my youngest son (“Lord Voldemort”) showed up, with a U-haul trailing behind him. He’s decided to move over to our side of the mountains. I love him dearly, but chaos sort of has a way of following him. You’ve been hanging out on the wall, so you know what I mean!

He settled in and then went out elk hunting with his beautiful big traditional bow that his brother made for him. Packing and driving over here had left him seriously tired. I’m pretty sure there was a hangover involved there, too. He scorns tree stands, just puts on a lot of camoflage and tries to blend in. Luckily he doesn’t scorn revolvers, becaue lying on the ground in a peaceful forest made him groggy, and he started dozing. He woke up just in time to see a pair of furry brown ears coming his way over a fallen tree and had a few seconds to abandon the big bow and draw his 44. He shot the bear at 8 feet.

Now, maybe he could have scared it off – but there sure wouldn’t have been time for a Plan B! So…he tagged the bear and brought it home. Don’t worry – I won’t post pictures. Except, here I am rendering bear fat.

Eeeeeuw. Rendering the bear fat.

Eeeeeuw. Rendering the bear fat.

It’s not a fun process, but it’s worth it to me. I use it in all kinds of things. The next night I made a chicken pot pie with a bear fat crust. Here’s a link to my Chicken Pot Pie recipe. I’m guessing you’ll be using shortening!

Chicken pot pie with bear fat crust!

Chicken pot pie with bear fat crust!

fly1gifcropped Did you know that bears have penis bones (or baculums)? It’s okay, I didn’t know that either. They do, and here’s the picture of one to prove it:

Lucky bears (well not this one!) have penis bones.

Lucky bears (well not this one!) have penis bones.

Here’s how the whole bear penis bone thing went:
Lord V: “Mom, would you boil this down while I’m butchering?”
Me: What is it?
Lord V: “It’s the penis bone.”
Me: “And you want me to put that thing in one of my pots and boil it on my stove? Not happening.”
Lord V (in his best wheedling tone): “Please? I’m really busy.”
Me: “So am I, and HELL NO!”
Lord V: “But it’s hollow. You can use it as a straw.”

Here is a guy who can argue the crutches away from a one-legged man, and this was his best argument??? Bleh.

I have researched this baculum thing and find that monogamous creatures are less inclined to have these bones. Who the heck thought THAT was a good idea? Rotten deal, if you ask me. Just sayin’. fly1gifcropped I’d never eaten bear, and was understandably leery. I’m now a fan. It was delicious – just like a very tender beef pot roast. Honest! We had bear stew the next night. (So much for my no-cooking-eat-M&Ms-in-bed-ME-TIME!) Then The Man got home from hunting and the guys had bear fat biscuits and gravy for breakfast and bear stroganoff for dinner. And there is now double the chaos and noise. fly1gifcropped Chickens are molting so the eggs are getting scarce. But HOLY COW, some of them are doing their best to show me they’re not ready for the stew pot yet. Would you look at this?

Um....OW?

Um….OW?

fly1gifcropped In a moment of self-indulgence after The Man went hunting and before Lord V showed up, I may have sampled this – in the name of research, of course.

Apple Syrup Martinis

Apple Syrup Martinis

My Yummy Northwest column for September was all about apples, and the apple syrup recipe is one I got from the gal who cuts my hair. I’m finding all kinds of wonderful uses for it. In this case, just put a little syrup in the martini glass, add vodka, and stir. Or, yes, you could put it in one of those shakers with some ice and shake. Either way – delightful!fly1gifcropped And because I can’t end any Fly on the Wall post without poking fun at my husband, and because I can NOT resist telling tales that I’ve been forbidden to tell, I will spill my guts about something that happened in the shop.I wasn’t actually in the shop (thank goodness) when this moment occurrred. The Man and his friend Greg were out there sitting in their chairs and talking like a couple of old coots. Lord V and I were in the kitchen. There was a very loud, weird-sounding gunshot and I jumped and possibly said something very bad.

Mr. Cautious was showing his friend the new gun Lord V bought and somehow forgot the first rule of gun safety. CONSIDER EVERY GUN LOADED!!! He shot a hole through the roof of the metal building. It’s a small hole, easily patched, but scary nonetheless. The Man was horrified and sheepish at the same time, because he is always so careful!

I will be using this scenario frequently, trust me. Can’t you hear it? He’ll be saying something like “You parked the car too close to the garage door” and I’ll say “At least I didn’t shoot a hole through the roof.” Oh yes, this is my ace in the hole. fly1gifcropped Buzz over to these awesome blogs!
Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
The Momisodes
Follow Me Home
Moore Organized Mayhem
Hypnotic Bard
Spatulas on Parade
Sorry Kid, Your Mom Doesn’t Play Well With Others
Searching for Sanity
Writer B is Me

Fly on the Wall – August

Fly on the Wall

Every month a group of bloggers post what a fly would have seen and heard if it had been on a wall in their household. Little snippets of life that don’t add up to a blog, but may be worth tattling about. After you’ve read my post, please click on the links at the bottom and check out the others. fly1gifcropped

Do you wonder, little fly, why you’re still there on my wall? It’s because I can’t reach you and my husband can’t hear your constant buzzing. It’s no secret that he doesn’t hear well. We have the $7,000 hearing aids in a box in the bedroom as proof. He often doesn’t hear me when I talk to him (surprise, surprise) and then randomly thinks he hears me when I haven’t said a word.

Him, bellowing from the kitchen: “I can’t hear you!”
Me, from bedroom: “I didn’t say anything!”
Him, from kitchen: “Okay, that’s why.”

It’s a good thing he can’t hear eye-rolls.fly1gifcropped

Each summer I wait anxiously for huckleberry season. Those beautiful purple berries are featured prominently in my baked goods (yeah, yeah, and margaritas) throughout the year, and a good huckleberry year is cause for celebration. This was a GREAT year for huckleberries, but unfortunately my participation in it ended on our first outing when I sprained my ankle. My hero husband, however, went back out three times and brought home fifteen pounds of berries, which helped to ease the pain a bit.

huckleberries

Picture this: I feel and hear my ankle snap at the same time as the stick I stepped on snapped. Not a good sound. This ankle has been sprained several times, so I’m not new to the sensation, but this one really, really hurt! AND, to add insult to injury, I lost almost my whole bucket of berries. Any lurking bears got an earful. By the time it numbed up a bit and I could breathe again, my husband and our two friends helped me with the long hop back to the vehicle. I absolutely couldn’t make it any farther and dramatically flopped on the hood of the car. Then…then…popped my head up and demanded that my husband take a picture of me for Fly on the Wall.

Is that dedication to you guys or what?  He took one look at me and said he didn’t think it was a good idea, but I insisted. When I got home from the ER and looked at the photos, I realized that he was rrrr  rriiii right. (Please don’t tell him I said that!) I love you all dearly, and was willing to put a photo out there of my filthy, red-faced, ponytailed self, but these were heinous and you are NOT going to see them. Just use your imaginations if you must. Trust me, even the bears would have turned up their noses at the sight.fly1gifcropped

miscaugust 013

The Man really stepped up to the plate—not only with his ability to make gourmet meals, but with his artistic flair in the presentation of the food. Salads had perfect slices of tomato arranged around the edge and cucumber slices that looked like flowers. He toasted pecans and grated fresh Parmesan cheese. He sliced chicken breast and fanned it on the plate. He created a green bean dish that would make you cry happy tears.

He’s pretty much screwed, because I now know what he’s capable of. (And that, my friends, is the reason I have never learned to use the lawn mower, snow plow, or weed-eater.)

Chef's salad supreme!

Chef’s salad supreme!

Weeks of cooking, doing dishes, and general fetching and carrying has taken its toll, however, because the other day he was complaining:

Him: “I feel like I started cooking two weeks ago and haven’t stopped!”
Me (smugly): “Welcome to my world”
Him: “No, thank you!”

Ah. Validation.fly1gifcropped

I knew I was pushing my luck, but I had this recipe developing in my brain (you have to do something when you’re lying on the couch all day being waited on) for huckleberry cookies and was desperate to see if it worked. It took four days, but I finally coaxed him into baking them for me. I printed up the recipe with lots of special notes on how to smash bananas, where to find the brown sugar, which kind of oatmeal to use…that kind of thing. I even got the crutches and went in the kitchen to help him, but was accused of micro-managing, so back to the couch I went.

The cookies smelled good. Really good! They looked perfect. Then I bit into one. Salty. Worried that I’d misjudged, I asked if he was sure he’d only used a half teaspoon and he assured me he had. Then he went and got the spoon. The half tablespoon. So…triple the salt, cinnamon, and baking soda. Yikes! Still edible, but not blog-able.

Banana Blueberry Cookies

Banana Blueberry Cookies

Since I can put weight on my foot now with one crutch, I tried making them again yesterday (using blueberries since most people don’t have access to mountain huckleberries) and they were much better without half the spice cabinet in them. Here’s the recipe.

Banana Blueberry Cookies
Print
Recipe type: Cookies
Author:
Makes 42 cookies These make a wonderful breakfast when you're in a hurry!
Ingredients
  • 1 cup virgin coconut oil
  • 1 cup brown sugar, firmly packed
  • 1 egg
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla
  • 1½ cups flour
  • ½ teaspoon baking soda
  • ½ teaspoon salt
  • ½ teaspoon cinnamon
  • ¼ teaspoon nutmeg
  • ½ cup chopped walnuts
  • ½ cup shredded coconut
  • 1 cup (about 3) very ripe bananas, mashed
  • 2 cups quick rolled oats
  • ¼ cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
  • 1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries
Instructions
  1. Heat oven to 375F.
  2. Lightly grease cookie sheets. (Or, since the blueberries tend to stick to the pan, you might want to use parchment paper.)
  3. Mix together coconut oil, brown sugar, egg, and vanilla until creamy.
  4. Add flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg and mix together well.
  5. Add walnuts, coconut, bananas, oats, and chocolate chips. Mix together well.
  6. Fold in the berries.
  7. Drop by rounded tablespoons onto cookie sheets, at least 1" apart. Bake for 12 minutes and cool on rack.

fly1gifcropped

The same mild winter and cool spring that gave us a good year for berries gave us a VERY bad year for yellow jackets. I mean, ghastly. Here is a photo of a pile-o’-bees that were dumped out of three bee traps. One year I counted the yellow jackets in a full trap and it was over 1,000, so you’re looking at a minimum of 3,000 nasty, mean, relentless wasps, with a few bald-faced hornets mixed in. In case you’re wondering, bald-faced hornets have the temperament of yellow jackets on steroids and will chase you down until you reach the safety of a building. They must die.

Eeeuw. Have some wasps!

Eeeuw. Have some wasps!

Right after this picture was taken, fresh traps were hung and by that afternoon the traps were almost half full again. It is making a dent, though, and hopefully we’ll be out of lockdown soon. Right now we (and the dogs and chickens) are only able to go outside early in the morning or after the sun sets. I will always remember this summer as the “Reign of Terror”.miscaugust 031fly1gifcropped

I’m pretty sure I’m older than 90% of the foodie bloggers out there, so you’ll have to try to imagine the angst that goes into the prospect of a 40th high school reunion. My last minute weight loss hopes were dashed by two inactive weeks on the couch with my own professional chef who was discovering the joys of cooking. Damn. So the focus was on clothes.

Three events were planned: a Friday “casual night” at the local tavern, a Saturday “evening casual” dinner event, and a Sunday picnic in the park for my elementary school.

Casual night. Hmmmm. I think we’re the first generation to be heading into our 60s wearing jeans―no polyester pants for us! I’m pretty sure my overalls wouldn’t be appropriate, though. So…jeans and a comfy top. Easy. But on crutches, shoes were the problem. I’m vertically challenged, so I like to wear heels. The dog has systematically chewed up most of my flat shoe options, so I had the choice between wearing the checkered tennis shoes that don’t go with the patterned top, (though this meant I could use just one crutch), or the sandals with a nice wedgy heel that I wouldn’t topple off of unless I really hit the wine hard (with both crutches for support).  I guess you know which one I chose.

Hmmm. Which would YOU choose?

Hmmm. Which would YOU choose?

Evening casual. What the hell is that??? A cocktail dress? (chubby knees, not happening) Did you know that there are almost no dresses out there for evening casual that aren’t sleeveless? (flabby arms, not happening) or form-fitting? (Where did my waist go? Not happening.) This was getting grim. I ordered a dress I liked but it needed heels, otherwise I looked like I was heading to church. Crap…back it went. Remember, the only store in our area is WalMart (SO not happening) and I was stuck on the couch, so a trip to the nearest city was out of the question. Time was running out and I was at the mercy of Amazon.

I ordered a fun skirt with sequins, which wasn’t as tacky as it sounds. After consulting with my fashion expert/daughter, it was determined that this skirt needed a green top. Not just any green…kind of a deep blue green. Two blouses were ordered. Neither one matched. I settled for a red and white dress, but then had the shoe conundrum again. Rush shipping delivered red shoes with crutch-friendly heels the day before I left. Just for the record, I’m wondering―who is the genius that said women aren’t allowed to wear pantyhose anymore? Pffft.

The picnic would be a slam-dunk, thank goodness. Tee shirt and jeans.

This is just the tip of the iceberg. There’s hair, nails, and all those girly things that a much-abused husband will NOT shop for. (Bye-bye, push-up bra…definitely not happening.) There was also my lovely green and brown ankle that wouldn’t go with anything except a camo outfit from Cabelas. Green, brown and swollen. At 58 (and yes, I’m sure you’ve already done the math and this is not a big surprise) the only thing on my body that was TRIM was my ankles. Sigh.

So much was not happening. I won’t even go into my various attempts to give myself a French manicure. I garden, play guitar, and wash loads and loads of dishes every day. My nails were a mess. To do something about it I would have needed to have a steady hand and two eyes that focused at approximately the same distance. I settled for making sure they were clean. Meh.

But in the end, the whole thing was a riot! I didn’t notice if shoes matched dresses, if nails were done, and Lord knows I didn’t notice if push-up bras were worn. As a matter of fact, if it hadn’t been for pictures I couldn’t tell you what anyone wore. These people were friendly and fun; the rest just didn’t matter. It really, truly didn’t. It wasn’t high school, wasn’t about fitting in, and most of us had grown up and realized that it was friendship and memories that were important.

Well…except for the guy that commented to me that he liked the name tags because that meant he could stare at women’s boobs without getting in trouble. I guess there’s always one that’s lost in the 70s.reunion croppedfly1gifcropped

I’ve noticed you’re sort of buzzing in weak circles. Either you’re past your prime or my high drama is exhausting you! Why don’t you go check out these other blogs. If you’re still around, I’ll see you next month.

Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
The Momisodes
Follow Me Home
Moore Organized Mayhem
Hypnotic Bard
Spatulas on Parade
Sorry Kid, Your Mom Doesn’t Play Well With Others
Dates 2 Diapers
Trashy Blog
Barbara & 1923

Fly on the Wall – July

Fly on the Wall
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. Come on in and buzz around my house, and then click on the links at the bottom of the page and check out the other posts!

fly1gifcroppedYou know…I’ve tried my best to be gracious and welcoming, inviting you into my house month after month. But you are beginning to get on my nerves, staying too long and bringing all your friends and relatives with you to buzz around my face when I’m working. I hate to do this, I really do, but unless you leave your pack of hooligan besties at home, I’m going to have to bring out the big guns!Big_Size_Mosquito_Swatter

Thank you. That’s more like it!fly1gifcropped

You have no problem coming and going as you please, since I’m in and out of the house a hundred times a day. Weeding, picking, watering…garden season is in full swing. I’ve picked over 20 pounds of raspberries, with many many more ready to ripen. You get swatted at every time I make jam, don’t you? At least you know enough to ditch the kitchen when my husband points the vacuum wand at you!

The back porch smells like a skunk because I’m drying garlic. I wish you could smell it here when I start dehydrating garlic and onions for my spice mixtures. Whooooeeeee. Smells like an Italian restaurant exploded. But in a good way, of course.

fly1gifcropped

Most of the time I’m pretty cheerful. Pollyanna-ish, even. Except when I’m being a raving bitch. It was in the high 90s Wednesday, which is sure to make me grumpy, and I was feeling very sorry for myself when I surveyed the mountain of dishes in my kitchen. So…I wrote a post. I’m pretty sure anyone over 40 can relate, and if you’re younger…your day will come! Wednesday Whine

Blog5 071fly1gifcropped

 

fly on wall pics 027It’s not all work and sweat though. My friend Sue sent me over a bottle of wine, a fluffy, feathery wine stopper, and a box of Jelly Bath. I knew exactly what to do with the wine and stopper, of course, but hadn’t tried the Jelly Bath before. I Googled it and decided our septic tank was too sensitive to put it in the tub, but OH.MY.WORD…what a foot bath! It just took a little to turn a big bowl of hot water into a squishy, heavenly, indulgent soak. The mixture stayed hot for a looong time, and I loved every second of it.

The hammock got washed and hung for the summer. We put yellow jacket traps in all the surrounding trees (yes, it totally looks ghetto) and they’re leaving me alone to swing and read in peace. Sweet.miscjunejuly 051

fly1gifcropped

Totally random, I know, but in case anyone is wondering, this old gal wears Spongebob jammies. On second thought, if anyone IS wondering, that’s really creepy. Let me know so I can ban you from my blog. That is all.fly1gifcropped

Last month I showed you my “weeder’s tan” – that strip of tan across my back where my shirt rides up and my pants ride down as I’m bent over weeding. I’ve found a way to eliminate that, and it doesn’t require any stinky self-tanner!

Ahhhhh.

Ahhhhh.

I hate to use the word “inhibited”, because it sounds so uptight, but I was certainly a modest young woman in the early ’70s. Definitely not a “dance naked to the music under a black light” kind of girl. Now I am coming into my own and discovering how liberating it is to sun worship (aka: picking peas and weeding) without a pesky shirt in my way. As long as I stay in the upper left quadrant of my garden, I have total privacy. Well, at least I thought I did until I saw YOU buzzing in the kitchen window. See anything you like, fly?!

fly1gifcropped

fly on wall pics 032 croppedAs a fly on my wall, you’re privy to everything that is going on – not just the funny and entertaining stuff. So you’ve seen a lot of eyes wiped and noses blown recently, because our beloved German Shorthaired Pointer, Heidi, is in her final days. The vet gave her a month, but I think we will be taking her for the long ride in the next few days. She’s full of cancer, and I won’t let her suffer.

We’re going to bring her home and lay her to rest by the chicken coop where she can guard her feathered friends.

Escorting the prisoner back to the flock.

Escorting the prisoner back to the flock.

She’s had the best life any dog could hope to enjoy – hills to run, gophers to unearth, chickens to herd, and lots of love. I know I’ll see her at the bridge.

fly1gifcropped

I’m sure it smacks of passive-aggressive behavior, but since my husband never reads my blogs, I feel perfectly justified in poking fun at him. There are no small children here with their clever little thoughts, so I have to find my material where I can.

Whoops!

Whoops!

He’s been losing weight, and is too frugal to buy new jeans. He went out to gather eggs and came back up the porch with both hands full of eggs and his pants beginning to fall down. By the time he got over to the counter they were around his ankles, and I just happened to have the camera in front of me. Oh yes…I got the shot even though I was laughing so hard I thought it would be all blurry. Actually, I got two photos, but the next one has him turning around glaring at the camera (okay, at me!) and I don’t think anyone wants to see that!

That’s all I’ve got, so this would be a good time to go visit these wonderful blogs:

Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
The Momisodes
Follow Me Home
Moore Organized Mayhem
Hypnotic Bard
Spatulas on Parade
Sorry Kid, Your Mom Doesn’t Play Well With Others

Fly on the Wall – June

Fly on the Wall

Welcome to June’s Fly on the Wall, where you pretend to be a fly on the wall of 14 bloggers, and we in turn give you the down and dirty details of our daily lives. When you’re finished going through my dirty laundry, please click on the links at the bottom for more!

I am amazed that you took time out of your garage party schedule to come hang out on my wall. Seriously…how many of there ARE you and why do you love my garage so much? Don’t make me release the spiders!fly1gifcropped

So. The neighbor’s cows were trying to visit again, and The Man was out of town picking up his new truck and then visiting the grandbabies in California and friends and family in Oregon. (Don’t EVEN get me started on the unfairness of that.) I briefly considered grabbing his .44 and leaping on the quad, yelling “Yee Haw”, but then I remembered I didn’t know how to start the quad. I closed the gate instead.fly1gifcropped

Youngest son buzzed by for a quick visit to see what was on his seven – count ’em, SEVEN! – game cameras that are spread with scientific precision through the nearby woods. Moose, elk, bear, cougar, bobcat, rabbit, and skunk were caught posing for the cameras. Needless to say, I’m going to be a wee bit nervous next month when it’s huckleberry picking season.Photos By Trail Camera

He also, bless his heart, brought a lovely summer cold with him. As soon as he left, you probably saw me with gloves and bleach, cleaning any surface he might have touched. I’m no germaphobe (after all, you houseflies carry almost two million kinds of bacteria, and I’m letting you hang on my wall unmolested) but I also don’t have time to be sick!

Here’s this month’s before and after picture.

Dining room table before my son's visit.

Dining room table before my son’s visit.

Dining room after son's visit.

Dining room during  son’s visit.

fly1gifcropped
Did you hear about the fly that flew through a screen door? He strained himself.

fly1gifcropped
Weed
Gardening season is in full swing around here. I’ve been trying to wear my overalls because they’re sturdy and stay up where they belong, unlike my gardening jeans. When I’m bent over weeding in regular clothes, I tend to get a really classy farmer’s tan…a strip between the bottom of my ratty tee shirt and the top of my deplorable jeans. Like this:

farmer tan
I guess I could break down and buy some “mom jeans”, but I think I’d rather sport the overalls…though they come with their own problems. For one, I look like a complete bumpkin. I know I am, but I don’t necessarily want to look like one! They also are not easily removable if a bug/spider/tick crawls up your leg, and I assure you that tucking the pants into my socks doesn’t help the bumpkin look one little bit.

But the BIGGEST problem is, I try to drink a lot of water to stay hydrated when I’m slaving away, and when nature calls there are gloves that need to be removed and four devious little hooks and buttons that need to be undone in a big hurry on the way to the house. While urine is actually a very good garden fertilizer, I think it should be used in a more controlled manner, if at all.

I think the overalls are going to go the way of gardening gloves – good intentions will be tossed aside – and if you stick around long enough you’ll probably see me heading out there in my jammies.

Gotta go, gotta go, gotta GO!

Gotta go, gotta go, gotta GO!

fly1gifcropped

I love baby showers, and took these hors d’oeuvres to one given for my friend Taylor, who’s having twins in August. They’re poopy baby diaper appetizers. You don’t need a recipe. Just roll out puff pastry, cut it into triangles, smear with a mixture of refried beans and browned burger, fold up into a diaper shape, and bake at 400F until they’re lightly brown. Bet you can’t eat just one!

Poopy baby diaper puff pastries. Yummmm.

Poopy baby diaper puff pastries. Yummmm.

fly1gifcroppedAnyone want a dog? He’s a very nice four year old yellow lab. He was a rescue dog, and while he’s improved immensely, he still has a neurosis or two. We can safely leave him at home now, but if he’s left in the house for even a few minutes when someone is here visiting, he chews something. He just can’t handle being inside while everyone else is out.

When he chewed up my couch, we hauled it to the dump and made do with just the loveseat and a couple of recliners. But…a neighbor came by and I was talking to her for just a minute (and didn’t want Otis to jump on her) so I left him in. A minute turned into twenty, and this…THIS is what happened. My poor loveseat.

Bad dog. Bad, bad dog.

Bad dog. Bad, bad dog.

Why do they make cushions that you can’t remove without tearing out staples? You can’t exactly patch something like that, either. What you can do is take a lovely fleece throw and tuck it in all around. Good enough! And…neuroses and all, I guess I’ll keep that bad boy. He’s very sorry.

Sorry, Mom.

Sorry, Mom. Please don’t hang one of those shame signs around my neck!

fly1gifcropped I know this isn’t funny or clever or shocking, but I got some beautiful photos here this month and want to share them with you.

The calm before the storm.

The calm before the storm.

Crisp and spicy radishes.

Crisp and spicy radishes.

Chickens in the peonies.

Chickens in the peonies.

And because I can’t resist, even though I’ve been forbidden to add this to the post (bwa ha ha), your little fly ears weren’t wrong…you absolutely DID hear The Man in the kitchen making a cup of tea and singing: “I’m a little teapot short and round. Here is my handle, here is my weiner.”

Nope, they never ever grow up!!!fly1gifcropped

Please visit these wonderful bloggers and see what they’ve been up to this month:
Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
The Momisodes
Follow Me Home
Moore Organized Mayhem
Hypnotic Bard
Spatulas on Parade
Dates to Diapers
Not Everyone Can Be a Mermaid
Evil Joy Speaks

 

Fly on the Wall – May

Fly on the Wall

 

Wow, the last month went by quickly! It’s time for Fly on the Wall again – a chance for you to see what’s really going on in the homes of 13 bloggers when they think no one is looking. As a fly on the wall in our homes, you’ll be privy to the dirt (in my case, figurative and literal) that others never see. Quick…someone’s getting ready to open the door. Get ready to zip inside!
fly1atiny

Babies – we have babies! Out of ten eggs under our broody hen, seven hatched. And you, my little fly friend, are missing a huge opportunity. The brooder box is very fragrant right now, because Mama gets really annoyed when I try to clean it out!

Six are little Buff Orpingtons, but one was a green egg, which makes it half Buff and half Araucana. The little misfit has sergeant stripes on its wings – so cute! Can’t play with them because Hoochie Mama freaks out and stomps all over them, trying to scoot them under her wings. Wish they could stay little and cute. And oh, I wish they could all be girls, since roos will get nuked go to “Freezer Boot Camp” this Fall.

possible dups 011

Speaking of chickens, I just have to tell you…cleaning out the coop is a BIG job. I shoveled it out last time, so The Man got the duty this time. You’re a fly, right? So you’d probably feel right at home buzzing around this guy:

Isn't this your long-lost cousin?

Isn’t this your long-lost cousin?

fly1atiny
I’m a ham. I have many humiliating examples I can produce to prove this, but believe me…it’s a fact. So when I was asked to be the “Zonk” for our “Let’s Make a Deal” tea for Homemaker’s Club, I was very pleased to put on my flowered dress and dorky hat, and – padded from boobs to bum, with front tooth blacked out – become “Daisy May.” I don’t know why anyone chose what was behind the curtain, because it was usually me, in a housedress sweeping dirt under a rug with (fake) cigarette hanging from my mouth, pruning a dead tree (and sharing some of my wine with it), in a lounge chair at the “beach” in my mumu, or playing “Clementine” on the guitar. Fun times!

Oh my darlin'...oh my darlin'...

Oh my darlin’…oh my darlin’…

I settled on “Clementine” because everyone knows that song, and I wanted them to sing along. But I also realized the my father had left me a real legacy when he sang songs to us around the campfire; I have a lot of “hillbilly” type songs filed away in my brain. Some of them start with catchy lyrics like “There’s a pappy at the gate with a loaded 38” and “Slap her down again, Pa – slap her down again.” It made me sad, made me smile, and made me wish I’d taught these old songs to my children. I guess that’s what grandchildren are for!fly1atiny

You were hanging out here during the 10th annual World Naked Gardening Day.  Did you see anything interesting? Uh…no. Huh uh. I have been known to weed topless in the back garden just because it feels awesome and no one can see me, but naked is too scary. Yikes.

Gardening did get done, however. The beautiful weather led to hopes of an early Summer. We have a short season (usually can’t plant most things until Memorial Day) so this was very exciting. Many things went into the dirt with high hopes and crossed fingers. Just in case you’re curious, THIS is what my arm looks like when I take my gardening gloves off!

A common occurrence here in the summer!

A common occurrence here in the summer!

So just when I was feeling hopeful, THIS happened.

May? Really?

May? Really?

Bet you’re glad you were safely stuck to my wall, huh? We had five minutes of heavy rain and hail at the same time, blowing sideways at what I would determine was hurricane force. Accompanied by thunder, lightning, and barking dogs. Seriously scary stuff. There will probably be no fruit in our little orchard this year – the stupid hail tore off blossoms and some of the new leaves. Other than that, most of the newly planted garden wasn’t affected. Except for some of the strawberries. And the celery. And the basil.fly1atiny

“He Who Shall Not Be Named On Facebook” was here for a brief visit. I love my son, but the butthead has a real fascination with letting our yellow lab on the couch and petting him vigorously – with fur flying everywhere. He made a modest attempt at scooping some of it up this time (for a change) but instead of putting it in the garbage he made poor Otis a toupee and laughed uproariously. Idiot. Don’t tell him, but I know what he’s getting for Christmas. I’m brushing Otis regularly and saving all his hair, and I’m going to make him a pillow! I think that’s only fair.

Poor Otis and his "toupee"

Poor Otis and his “toupee”

He is not amused.

He is not amused.

fly1atinyYesterday was another ladies’ luncheon. There was a cake baking contest and my S’mores cake took first place. Did I mention that only three of us entered? Still…it’s a yummy cake, and worth posting a recipe. For the 3 layer version, you can go to my original post at Yummy Northwest S’mores Cake

2 layer S'mores Cake (after the judges tried a piece.)

2 layer S’mores Cake (after the judges tried a piece.)

S'mores Cake
Print
Author:
Ingredients
  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 2 teaspoons baking soda
  • ¾ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
  • 2 cups sugar
  • 1 cup vegetable oil (I used peanut oil)
  • 1 cup hot coffee
  • 1 cup milk
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla
  • 1 recipe Graham Cracker Layer
  • 1 recipe Chocolate Ganache
  • 1 recipe Marshmallow Frosting
Instructions
  1. Make one recipe Graham Cracker Layer (see below)
  2. Heat the oven to 350 F.
  3. Grease and flour two 9-inch round pans. (I use parchment on the bottom of the pan and spray it and the sides of the pan with Baker's Joy.)
  4. Divide the graham cracker mixture evenly into both pans, reserving 2 tablespoons for decorating the cake if desired. Press firmly.
  5. In a large mixing bowl, sift together dry ingredients.
  6. Add oil, coffee and milk and mix at medium speed for 2 minutes.
  7. Add the eggs and vanilla, and beat for 2 more minutes. Expect the batter to be thin.
  8. Pour into prepared pans. Bake for about 30-35 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean when inserted in the middle.
  9. ***While cake is baking, make your ganache! See below for the recipe.***
  10. Cool in pans on racks for 15 minutes and then turn out and cool completely on racks.
  11. To assemble, place one cake on a plate or cake board, graham cracker side up. Spread with ganache. Place the second layer over the first, graham cracker side down. Frost sides with ganache and pipe around the top and bottom.
  12. Fill the top with marshmallow frosting (see recipe below) and sprinkle with reserved graham cracker mixture.
  13. Decorate with marshmallows, Hershey bars, and pieces of graham cracker if you wish.

GRAHAM CRACKER LAYER
2 cups graham cracker crumbs
1/2 cup brown sugar, firmly packed
1/2 cup butter, melted
1/2 cup pecans, finely chopped (optional)

Combine all of the ingredients in a small bowl

Pouring cake batter over graham cracker layer.

Pouring cake batter over graham cracker layer.

CHOCOLATE GANACHE
16 ounces good quality dark chocolate (don’t use chocolate chips!)
2 cups whipping cream, preferably ultra-pasteurized

Chop chocolate into very small pieces and place in a medium bowl.
Heat cream in a small pan until it just begins to boil, and pour it over the chocolate. Let it sit for a couple of minutes and then stir gently until blended.
Let the ganache sit at room temperature, stirring occasionally, until it thickens to spreading consistency. This will probably take at least 2 hours. The longer it sits the thicker it gets! If it gets too thick, you can place the bowl in a larger bowl of warm water and stir gently. Don’t ever add liquids to ganache!

MARSHMALLOW FROSTING
2 egg whites
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
1/4 cup sugar
3/4 cup light corn syrup

In medium bowl, beat egg whites, salt, and vanilla at medium speed until foamy.
Gradually add sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time, beating at high speed until soft peaks form and sugar is dissolved.
In a small saucepan over medium heat, bring corn syrup just to a boil. Holding the pan high above the egg mixture, pour in a very thin stream, beating at highest speed until frosting is thick.
If you make this ahead, keep it lightly covered until needed.

Pouring a thin stream of boiling corn syrup into egg mixture.

Pouring a thin stream of boiling corn syrup into egg mixture.

I actually left for the luncheon with an almost clean kitchen. Unheard of. Usually I cover every surface with dishes and pans, but I made a valiant effort to clean up after myself this time. Of course, there were those pesky chocolate cake batter spatters from cupboard to floor, and a few assorted bowls and measuring cups, but all in all it was amazing, since I was finishing the cake and baking croissants at 5:30 AM. BEFORE COFFEE! A tidy kitchen  made for a more pleasant homecoming after the luncheon, but spoiled my whole “look at what a freakin’ mess I make” photo shoot idea. Next time!

fly1atiny

I’ll leave you with these “before” and “after” action shots of The Man:

BEFORE BREAKFAST

BEFORE BREAKFAST

AFTER BREAKFAST!

AFTER BREAKFAST!

Yep, he’s a keeper!fly1atiny

Well…if you hurry into the kitchen there are probably still some sticky bits on the countertop for your pleasure. Oh, who am I kidding? There’s no rush; it’s not going to get cleaned until tomorrow anyhow. When you’re through, please buzz over to these other blogs and check out what THEY have on THEIR counters.

Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
The Momisodes
Follow Me Home
Moore Organized Mayhem
Hypnotic Bard
Tiny Steps Mommy
Spatulas on Parade
Mom Rants and Comfy Pants

 

 

Fly on the Wall – April

Fly on the Wall

Are you interested in seeing what other people do at home when they think no one is watching? Every month a group of bloggers give you a glimpse on “Fly on the Wall”. Here’s mine – hope you’ll read through to the bottom, where you’ll get the links for the other 11 blogs! fly1gifcropped

Cookies, cookies, cookies. Every surface was covered with cookies in different stages, because I somehow decided that hitting 1,000 “likes” on my Rowdy Baker Facebook page meant I should make 1,000 cookies. I thought I’d have plenty of time, but a sweet blogger pimped me out a bit and the last 50 “likes” happened very quickly.

Do I need to tell you I didn’t make 1,000 cookies? Not even close. I think I hit 250, which was still pretty impressive, since they were large rolled cookies (what was I thinking?) and I added icing and put names on some of them before I pooped out. If you don’t see your name it’s because it’s off to the side and I cropped the photo. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

Keep your fuzzy little fly butt off my cookies!!!

Keep your fuzzy little fly butt off my cookies!!!

I was doing the happy dance when I hit 1,000 but The Man was less impressed. I believe he just grunted “yeah?” (such a charmer) so I didn’t share my bottle of champagne with him. I was a little sorry about that the next morning. I will say he perked up a bit and showed some enthusiasm when he realized the photos were done and the cookies were fair game.
fly1gifcropped
Baking in a Tornado posted a comment on her Facebook page about ironing, which immediately took me back to my childhood. I spent a lot of time ironing since Mom worked and it seemed like everything in our house was pressed. When I was younger and less skilled I ironed handkerchiefs, dishtowels, sheets, and pillowcases. As I grew older I was trusted with actual clothing, including nightgowns. Yes, nightgowns. I can tell you right now that you should NOT use a hot iron on a sheer gown. Nope.

What my mother taught me – and I think of this every time I iron anything – was to go slowly and spend more time smoothing than ironing. It takes less time to do it right than to go back and try to remove a crease in the wrong spot.

Heads up! This is more than a tip about ironing; it’s very wise, and applies to so many circumstances. I need to remember to smooth things over so I don’t say the wrong thing. I need to learn to think before I speak because it’s a lot harder (or impossible) to backpedal and take back wrong or hurtful words. Sometimes you just can’t iron out those creases.

Smooth, smooth, smooth!
fly1gifcropped
I have messes everywhere. Little bits of paper cover the dining room table and floor as I wrap the stems of almost 100 paper flowers for my Homemaker’s Club spring tea. A small group of  us made the flowers, but ran out of oompf before the stems were wrapped, and we wanted some daisies too, so…I volunteered. I don’t mind – it’s actually kind of fun, but with my short attention span I just do a few and then get bored and walk away. That’s okay; we like eating in our recliners. I should just give up and call it a craft table.

Making messes...it's what I do.

Making messes…it’s what I do.

fly1gifcroppedLeftover oatmeal usually goes to the chickens. Somehow I always make way too much! (They love it, and I love to indulge them a bit.) But today I looked at that oatmeal and then looked at the bag of dark chocolate-covered raisins, and experimented. Though my method of adding and mixing defied the rules, and the dough seemed heavy and sticky, it made really nice, puffy, cake-like cookies with slightly chewy bottoms and plump chocolate raisins peeking out.

I should have added the whole bag, but a lot some of them spilled out…into my mouth.

Leftover Oatmeal Cookies with chocolate covered raisins!

Leftover Oatmeal Cookies with chocolate covered raisins!

Cooked Oatmeal Cookies (with chocolate raisins)
Print
Author:
I made these cookies with leftover oatmeal, which had raisins and cinnamon in it. Add a little cinnamon if you like.
Ingredients
  • 2 cups cooked oatmeal ("Quick" or "Old-Fashioned". Just follow the cooking instructions)
  • ½ cup coconut oil, softened but not melted
  • ½ cup brown sugar
  • ½ cup white sugar
  • 2 eggs
  • 1 tablespoon vanilla
  • 2 cups flour
  • 2 teaspoons baking powder
  • ½ teaspoon salt
  • 1 cup chocolate covered raisins (or more!)
Instructions
  1. Heat oven to 350 F.
  2. Lightly grease cookie sheet.
  3. In a large bowl combine the cooked oatmeal, coconut oil, brown sugar, white sugar, eggs, and vanilla. Mix well with an electric mixer - about 2 minutes.
  4. Combine the flour, baking powder, and salt and add to cookie mixture. Mix well.
  5. Stir in the chocolate covered raisins.
  6. Scoop onto the prepared baking sheet, leaving an inch between cookies; they won't spread much.
  7. Bake 12-14 minutes, or until the bottoms are golden brown. Cool on a rack.
Mix everything but the dry ingredients together.

Mix everything but the dry ingredients together.

Add the chocolate covered raisins. Oh, go ahead...dump in the whole bag!

Add the chocolate covered raisins. Oh, go ahead…dump in the whole bag!

fly1gifcroppedOur young rooster has finally found a home. I take him to town tomorrow to rendezvous with his new owner. She has a brand new chicken coop and has even rounded up a few hot babes for my randy roo. He should be in heaven. He’s been bullied by our old rooster for months, and now will be cock of the walk. Here he is, running from Big Red!

Run, Rooster, run!!!

Run, Rooster, run!!!

fly1gifcroppedWhile you’ve been rubbing your legs together on my wall, I’ve been out working with The Man to get our greenhouse ready. New dirt, compost, and straw to (hopefully) keep the weeds at bay…it’s a thing of beauty. And we didn’t kill each other. This is a big plus, because we DO NOT WORK WELL TOGETHER. We have a lower garden and an upper garden, and I try to always be in the one where he isn’t. Today I wasn’t raking out the dirt “correctly” so I gave up and screened compost instead. He wasn’t pulling off the flakes of straw neatly and butting them up against each other…grrr…so he gave up and went to cut cardboard. See? We’ve got it all worked out. Separate corners.

Yep...you just stay there, and no one will get hurt!

Yep…you just stay there, and no one will get hurt!

fly1gifcroppedProud Mama alert! My daughter Brenna just started her own blog, and I expect nothing but amazing posts in the future. She’s a wonderful writer, cook, mother, and photographer, and has a wicked humor to boot. I’m setting your bar high, Honey! Go give her some love, my friends. Click on the picture of my (ahem) beautiful grandbabies to see her introduction. Nut Without a Shell

Here is a list of links to eleven wonderful bloggers who played along this month. Please buzz over to their house and visit!

Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
The Momisodes
Follow Me Home
Moore Organized Mayhem
Hypnotic Bard
Tiny Steps Mommy
Outsmarted Mommy

Fly on the Wall for March

Fly on the Wall
Here we go again! Every month a group of bloggers gets together to give you little snippets of what life is really like in their house when no one’s watching. (Except for you – because you’re actually a little fly on the wall…out of reach of the flyswatter, hopefully!)

Here’s your chance to see what went on in two households, as I spend three weeks visiting my daughter in California and get to meet my new grandson for the first time. When you are through with this blog, please check out the links below for more dirt!
fly1atiny
Even if you’ve been doing your calisthenics, a fly can only travel about six miles in a day, so you probably just hung out at my house while I was in California. If so, this is what you would have seen:
The whole Deadwood series.
The whole Lonesome Dove series.
The whole Streets of Laredo series.
The whole Dead Man’s Walk series.

You also probably got to listen to a lot of fascinating phone conversations, because The Man talks on the phone more than most adolescent girls. You now know more about hunting than you ever, ever wanted to know. And conspiracy theories.

In the meantime, however, your relatives in California were chilling on the wall at my daughter Brenna’s house, where it is much more entertaining.
fly1atiny
March 1st finds us scurrying out the door on our way to the Dr. Seuss breakfast at the girls’ elementary school. Taunee is in jammies (because it’s also pajama day) but Sophie is rocking a new outfit, complete with a furry vest. Yes indeed, we hit the mall yesterday – a big treat for me, since I live up in the hills, far from any decent shopping.

You won’t have long to wait. We’ll be back soon to load the “Better than Crack Brownies (though to be politically correct, at school Sophie calls them Better than Crackle Brownies) and jugs of milk into the car for Sophie’s class, to celebrate her birthday. Those 4th graders will go through two pans of brownies and almost two gallons of milk!

The house is decorated for tonight’s slumber party. Sophie and I made lots of hot pink and black paper roses to go with her pink and black zebra theme.

Just a few of MANY flowers we made.

Just a few of MANY flowers we made.

I hope you brought your little fly ear protection. Five girls can make a LOT of noise during a slumber party. Here’s a link to my blog, if you’re dying to know how to make a zebra cake! Sophie’s Zebra Party
fly1atiny

taun and eema mustaches

“Eema” (that would be me) and Taunee. Wonder where she gets her goofiness from…

You may have noticed that Taunee is a source of constant entertainment. Here are a few of the things you’ve heard already:

Brenna: “Taunee, what’s that blue stuff in your hair?”
Taunee: “I don’t know – what’s it taste like?”

Taunee is in her nightgown. The dog is sniffing her butt and she’s giggling.
Brenna: “Taun, don’t let the dog do that!”
Taunee: “Whaaaat? I LIKE it.”

Baby, screaming loudly
Taunee: “He sounds like a fire drill!”

And in the “Things You Don’t Expect to Hear” category:

Taunee: “Did you put an apple in my lunch?”
Brenna: “No. They were too big and you wouldn’t have time to eat anything else.”
Taunee: “Awwwwwww.”
Brenna: “But I did pack you grapes and a Cutie”
Taunee: “Yay!”
Brenna: “And I didn’t pack you any chocolate today”
Taunee: “THANK you!”

In explanation, she OD’d on chocolate recently and learned that it was better going down than it was coming up. For now, she’s a no-chocolate girl. So I’m guessing that she’ll eat all the jelly beans this Easter and her big sister, Sophie, will get to eat all the Cadbury Mini Eggs. Score, Soph!!!
fly1atiny
I’m annoyed that I live in an area of the country that doesn’t have a food specialty. You know…a thing. In the Redding area, olives are big. Instead of wine, you can go to an olive tasting. If they had martini tastings to go with the olives, I’d be one happy woman.

Here’s the best part, though. Friday is always tri-tip day. It seems like every business has their own barbecues set up outside, slow roasting beef all day. This produces a little chunk of heaven that is wrapped in foil and (for a price) sent home with you. It’s oh, so good. Brenna made some twice-baked potatoes and I made a salad, and we were all in a food coma by 8pm.

I know I look a little crazed. But if you were on a "plant based diet" that you blew off while on vacation, you'd be excited about all this beef too!

I know I look a little crazed. But if you were on a “plant based diet” that you blew off while on vacation, you’d be excited about all this beef too!

fly1atiny

Sophie taught herself the “Cup Song” from Pitch Perfect in one night. Oh, to have that kind of memory and retention again. The song is stuck in my head – probably forever. She also amazed and delighted the admiring crowd (us) by performing the tripod and singing the Star Spangled Banner at the same time. Repeatedly.

Bet you can't do it!

Bet you can’t do it!

fly1atiny
And as for baby Mack?

He was not amused!

He was not amused! Brenna, however, sports the orange mustache without a whimper.

fly1atiny
Brenna’s voice called down the hall: “Chris?” My mother instincts were immediately on alert by the tone – especially since the second and third calls were higher pitched and louder. Chris went running. A few moments later, Brenna came into the kitchen, looking a wee bit shaken. A little SNAKE had just been slithering around in her bathroom sink. What the… I don’t want to know how that could happen, but I was grateful that there was only a day left before I flew back home, and I waited to take a shower until I was safely back in my own bathroom. I’m not afraid of snakes, but in the sink? Huh-uh. No way.

fly1atiny

Ugh. They say THIS is the worst part. Somehow I doubt that.

Ugh. They say THIS is the worst part. Somehow I doubt that.

And now, I’m home again. See all the stuff on the tray? Can you guess what I get to do tomorrow? Ugh. I had a very casual doctor, and put off this whole colonoscopy business for years without getting lectured. But now I have a new doctor, and somehow I find myself bustled into this clinic and that, having all the tests I’ve been avoiding forever.

I have my fears about this. I’m terrified of anesthesia – not just that I might not wake back up, but that if I do there’s no telling what I might say. I’ve thought of so many inappropriate things I could spill my guts about that now I’ve practically guaranteed it’ll happen, and the medical staff will probably be laughing with friends over drinks tomorrow night, saying “You’ll never guess what this woman said today…”

Thinking happy thoughts. Thinking of my happy place. Puppies. Babies. Recipes.fly1atiny

Whew. That lovely procedure is over. I’m home – a little shaky, violated, but glad to have that behind (heh heh) me. Lovely nurses, a hysterically funny anesthesiologist, warm blankets, and a delicious lunch afterwards. Not to mention a sweet power nap! Yes, I could do that again.fly1atiny

And on this cheery note, I’ll pass on the recipe for Sophie’s favorite cookie. We made them while I was visiting, and the whole batch disappeared almost immediately. I’m sure you’ve all had these, but if you think about it, they look like something a fly would LOVE.

"Cow Pies", also known as "Boiled Cookies"

“Cow Pies”, also known as “Boiled Cookies”

Cow Pies
Print
Author:
Serves: 24
I love to use chunky peanut butter, and sometimes add chopped peanuts with the oats. The recipe makes about 24, but trust me - you'll probably want to double it!
Ingredients
  • 2 cups sugar
  • ¼ cup cocoa powder
  • ½ cup butter
  • ½ cup milk
  • 1 pinch salt
  • ½ cup peanut butter
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla
  • 3 cups quick oats
Instructions
  1. In a large saucepan, combine sugar, cocoa, butter, and milk. Bring to a rolling boil and then let the mixture boil for one minute, stirring constantly.
  2. Remove from heat and add a pinch of salt and the peanut butter. Stir until well blended.
  3. Stir in vanilla and oats.
  4. Drop by large teaspoons (or use a scoop!) onto waxed paper to cool.

Fly away and check out these great blogs!

Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
My Brain on Kids
Just a Little Nutty
Menopausal Mother
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
The Momisodes
Follow Me Home
Moore Organized Mayhem
Finding Felicity
Caramel Living