My family found out well after the fact that I had a blog. I did it in secret. I didn't discuss it with anybody except my alter-ego, "my evil twin, Jennifer" who encouraged me in the name of sanity to write something, ANYTHING. Jennifer felt that it would be healthy for me (I mean "us") to have a creative outlet. She warned me not to tell anyone.
But I did. Tell someone, that is. I told the Bearded One. About a month or so into it I was sitting at the breakfast bar typing.
"Email?" he asked.
"No, blogging," I replied, offhand and very casually.
"YOU HAVE A BLOG!???" he responded. Obviously completely unconcerned at the prospect. "I'll bet you spend all of your time bitching about your job and us."
That last bit was a strict declarative sentence rather than a question in disguise.
Feeling the need to reassure him, I let him read a couple of entries. Specifically this one and this one.
"Oh, that's cute. But you didn't mention...." was his response.
I followed that up by reassuring him that I would remain anonymous, that I didn't WANT our relatives to know all about my writing as it really was creative rather than newsworthy, and that I knew VERY WELL that writing about employers could get one into deep, deep trouble.
Once knowing that I wasn't saying mean things about him, he completely forgot about the blog. Everything about it. Including the title.
On occasion, I do let him read an entry before I post it. Usually when he is sitting the the room while I type. He invariably has a few things of his own to add. Which is fine with me. My evil twin Jennifer tells me that he needs a creative outlet too.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Clean vs. Organized
So much for my abilities as a nag...
The conversation went something like this:
Me: "So why isn't your room clean?
Stubble: "It is."
Me: "No it isn't. There is crap all over the bed and stacks of CDs all over the place."
Stubble: "That is organization. I thought you said that you wanted it CLEAN."
Me "I DID!"
Stubble: "Then why didn't you say so."
Me: (mentally beating my forehead on the doorjab (repeatedly)) "Here is a tub for all of the CDs in your room. The bunch on the dresser fell on the cat."
The conversation went something like this:
Me: "So why isn't your room clean?
Stubble: "It is."
Me: "No it isn't. There is crap all over the bed and stacks of CDs all over the place."
Stubble: "That is organization. I thought you said that you wanted it CLEAN."
Me "I DID!"
Stubble: "Then why didn't you say so."
Me: (mentally beating my forehead on the doorjab (repeatedly)) "Here is a tub for all of the CDs in your room. The bunch on the dresser fell on the cat."
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Because It's What I Do Best (part 2)
Nagging.
I am really a champ at nagging. The National Superbowl of Nagging Champion, actually. Because I am, at heart, altruistic, I would like to take this opportunity to share all that I have learned over the years:
Nagging works best when used sparingly:
A neverending barrage just sets the compliance bar higher. It is like escalation in warfare - at a certain point nothing works but annihilation (and then who would you share holiday dinners with?).
Nagging works best when done quietly:
The shouted "How many times do I have to say this..." only causes the stereo (or TV or Xbox) to be turned up...and once you have expended all of that energy, you won't have it any in reserve for the long haul.
Nagging, done properly is better torture than fingernails on a chalkboard:
It is incessant. It is intermittent. (both excellent psychological concepts and not at all as contradictory as they may at first seem). Eventually making it stop and keeping it from starting again is all that matters.
The latest "topic" for the nagging is clean bedrooms. The Bearded One set one holiday task for Ms. Flippers and Stubble...
Get their bedrooms cleaned up so that the doors can be open and the cats can get in (without doing damage to their furry little selves or the bedroom contents). The way that The Bearded One accomplishes this is to fret about the issue for a few days while letting me know that he is fretting and exactly what he is fretting about. Then there comes a time when the volcano begins to spew...
"How many times do I have to say this...."
"Is it too much to ask..."
Once the initial eruption is over, if they wait long enough while doing nothing, it all blows over.
This vacation, I got involved. Witness a master in action...
Me: "If you get the room clean, I'll vaccuum."
1/2 hour later
Me: "I'm starting a load of wash, I need everything off the floor. If it is on the floor and isn't dirty, it needs to be in the dresser"
1/2 hour later
Me: "Can I vaccuum yet?"
1/2 hour later
Me: "How about now? Are you ready for me to vaccuum?"
1/2 hour later
Me: "I'm starting another load in the washer. Do I have everything?"
1/2 hour later
Me: "Can I run the vaccuum yet?"
Sooner or later (usually sooner) the clothes start arriving in the laundry room and I am told, "I can do the vaccuuming - you don't need to bother."
1/2 hour later
"Can I put the vaccuum away now?"
I am really a champ at nagging. The National Superbowl of Nagging Champion, actually. Because I am, at heart, altruistic, I would like to take this opportunity to share all that I have learned over the years:
Nagging works best when used sparingly:
A neverending barrage just sets the compliance bar higher. It is like escalation in warfare - at a certain point nothing works but annihilation (and then who would you share holiday dinners with?).
Nagging works best when done quietly:
The shouted "How many times do I have to say this..." only causes the stereo (or TV or Xbox) to be turned up...and once you have expended all of that energy, you won't have it any in reserve for the long haul.
Nagging, done properly is better torture than fingernails on a chalkboard:
It is incessant. It is intermittent. (both excellent psychological concepts and not at all as contradictory as they may at first seem). Eventually making it stop and keeping it from starting again is all that matters.
The latest "topic" for the nagging is clean bedrooms. The Bearded One set one holiday task for Ms. Flippers and Stubble...
Get their bedrooms cleaned up so that the doors can be open and the cats can get in (without doing damage to their furry little selves or the bedroom contents). The way that The Bearded One accomplishes this is to fret about the issue for a few days while letting me know that he is fretting and exactly what he is fretting about. Then there comes a time when the volcano begins to spew...
"How many times do I have to say this...."
"Is it too much to ask..."
Once the initial eruption is over, if they wait long enough while doing nothing, it all blows over.
This vacation, I got involved. Witness a master in action...
Me: "If you get the room clean, I'll vaccuum."
1/2 hour later
Me: "I'm starting a load of wash, I need everything off the floor. If it is on the floor and isn't dirty, it needs to be in the dresser"
1/2 hour later
Me: "Can I vaccuum yet?"
1/2 hour later
Me: "How about now? Are you ready for me to vaccuum?"
1/2 hour later
Me: "I'm starting another load in the washer. Do I have everything?"
1/2 hour later
Me: "Can I run the vaccuum yet?"
Sooner or later (usually sooner) the clothes start arriving in the laundry room and I am told, "I can do the vaccuuming - you don't need to bother."
1/2 hour later
"Can I put the vaccuum away now?"
Saturday, December 24, 2011
By The Chimney With Care...
I am currently making a black Christmas stocking. Yes, I said BLACK. A truly festive color. And perfectly right for Stubble. In our family, we have a tradition of fashioning personalized Christmas stockings; thus The Bearded One's stocking with boats and airplanes. Mine was made my a much loved Aunt and as she made it when I was but a wee child, it has snowmen and mittens and stars...but I love it enough that I won't allow it to be replaced.
Stubble's stocking has been a bit of a problem. If I had made it when he was 5 it would have been loaded with Pokemon (um, he is 20 now and not a big Pokemon fan). At 10 it would have been filled with soccer balls (he hasn't played soccer in years). At 16 it would have been covered with cars - but cars aren't really stocking material once you get your license and your first car. I have had to wait a very long time to personalize his stocking. Finally, he seems to have settled into computers.
I showed The Bearded One the felt that I had squirreled away for the stocking. Red. Blue. Green. The Bearded One's eyes immediately went to the piece of black felt that I keep for putting felt on the bottom of things that should be felt backed but aren't.
"Black," he said.
"Black?" I asked, thinking how AWFUL it would look.
"Yeah, Black," he replied. "Think about it."
And after thinking about it for a few minutes it made perfect sense. Stubble, from the time he could express preferences made his known for black. With accents of gold and silver.,..
So I am making a black Christmas stocking. With a tower and cable and ports and CPUs and a flash drive.....
And it is black and sparkly and gold and silver, and you can read Intel on the CPU...
Merry Christmas, Stubble.
If you look a little to the left you will also see a piece of the penguin stocking that I made for Ms. Flippers.
And to all a good night...
Stubble's stocking has been a bit of a problem. If I had made it when he was 5 it would have been loaded with Pokemon (um, he is 20 now and not a big Pokemon fan). At 10 it would have been filled with soccer balls (he hasn't played soccer in years). At 16 it would have been covered with cars - but cars aren't really stocking material once you get your license and your first car. I have had to wait a very long time to personalize his stocking. Finally, he seems to have settled into computers.
I showed The Bearded One the felt that I had squirreled away for the stocking. Red. Blue. Green. The Bearded One's eyes immediately went to the piece of black felt that I keep for putting felt on the bottom of things that should be felt backed but aren't.
"Black," he said.
"Black?" I asked, thinking how AWFUL it would look.
"Yeah, Black," he replied. "Think about it."
And after thinking about it for a few minutes it made perfect sense. Stubble, from the time he could express preferences made his known for black. With accents of gold and silver.,..
So I am making a black Christmas stocking. With a tower and cable and ports and CPUs and a flash drive.....
And it is black and sparkly and gold and silver, and you can read Intel on the CPU...
If you look a little to the left you will also see a piece of the penguin stocking that I made for Ms. Flippers.
And to all a good night...
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Kimi-Cat's Attic Adventure
Curiosity being what it is, the cats have long hankered to get into the attic. We have a pull-down staircase/ladder that leads up and all three of them have, at one time or another, tried to investigate while the ladder was down.
Rufus has been known to wedge himself between rungs of the ladder to resist removal. Kimi has been known to grab onto rungs and hang on for dear life as we try to pry her loose. Katsu, who is our smallest cat and champion leaper, has managed to get 2/3 of the way up to the attic opening in one bound...
Last night Kimi was the first cat to reach the far reaches of the attic, where no cat has gone before (and never will again if we have anything to say about it).
I was getting my Christmas embroidery project out of one of the plastic tubs in the attic. It is a Christmas project that has been in progress for about 25 years and will someday be completed but not for a long time as I only work on it for 2 weeks out of the year.
I had very carefully made sure that the electric fireplace in our bedroom was turned on - an event guaranteed to draw all cats to it's vicinity. It is on the other side of the house from the attic opening and I was certain that all three fuzzbutts were toasting themselves in the warmth of the artificial flames...
I went into the attic (very quietly) and began rummaging in the two clear plastic tubs with the red (locking) handles that we purchased last year when the last of our decrepit cardboard boxes died.
Suddenly something furry brushed past my leg and headed for the darkened corner of the attic where the roof met the floor...the only part of the attic that has flooring is the center 8 feet under the ridge of the roof...Kimi was escaping onto insulation (luckily for her, batting).
She, of course, refused to come when I called and began to skulk along the edge of the roof by the outside vents. After a minute of fruitless calling and cadjoling, I yelled for Stubble.
He ran up from the family room where he had been either saving the galaxy from aliens or racing around the well known tracks of the world in a fast car and immediately dove into the attic once I had assurred him that the cat was indeed up there.
With his sharp young eyes, he could see the miscreant at the far end of the attic. With his young knees and flexible back he was able to bend double and sprint after the cat, scooping her up, spinning around and making it back to the opening in the time that it took me to climb up and stick my head through the opening into the attic space.
He repeatedly told Kimi what a bad girl she was as he brought her out of the attic. Words she soundly ignored as she turned right around and ran up the ladder and into the attic again. With both of us trying to grab her before she entered. This time he caught up with her just inside the top of the ladder.
I can only hope that she doesn't tell Rufus and Katsu about the wonders of the dark corners of the attic space and the joys of tormenting the woman who buys their food..,.,
Rufus has been known to wedge himself between rungs of the ladder to resist removal. Kimi has been known to grab onto rungs and hang on for dear life as we try to pry her loose. Katsu, who is our smallest cat and champion leaper, has managed to get 2/3 of the way up to the attic opening in one bound...
Last night Kimi was the first cat to reach the far reaches of the attic, where no cat has gone before (and never will again if we have anything to say about it).
I was getting my Christmas embroidery project out of one of the plastic tubs in the attic. It is a Christmas project that has been in progress for about 25 years and will someday be completed but not for a long time as I only work on it for 2 weeks out of the year.
I had very carefully made sure that the electric fireplace in our bedroom was turned on - an event guaranteed to draw all cats to it's vicinity. It is on the other side of the house from the attic opening and I was certain that all three fuzzbutts were toasting themselves in the warmth of the artificial flames...
I went into the attic (very quietly) and began rummaging in the two clear plastic tubs with the red (locking) handles that we purchased last year when the last of our decrepit cardboard boxes died.
Suddenly something furry brushed past my leg and headed for the darkened corner of the attic where the roof met the floor...the only part of the attic that has flooring is the center 8 feet under the ridge of the roof...Kimi was escaping onto insulation (luckily for her, batting).
She, of course, refused to come when I called and began to skulk along the edge of the roof by the outside vents. After a minute of fruitless calling and cadjoling, I yelled for Stubble.
He ran up from the family room where he had been either saving the galaxy from aliens or racing around the well known tracks of the world in a fast car and immediately dove into the attic once I had assurred him that the cat was indeed up there.
With his sharp young eyes, he could see the miscreant at the far end of the attic. With his young knees and flexible back he was able to bend double and sprint after the cat, scooping her up, spinning around and making it back to the opening in the time that it took me to climb up and stick my head through the opening into the attic space.
He repeatedly told Kimi what a bad girl she was as he brought her out of the attic. Words she soundly ignored as she turned right around and ran up the ladder and into the attic again. With both of us trying to grab her before she entered. This time he caught up with her just inside the top of the ladder.
I can only hope that she doesn't tell Rufus and Katsu about the wonders of the dark corners of the attic space and the joys of tormenting the woman who buys their food..,.,
For MeowLady
Credit where credit is due:
Cooks.com and a Southern cooking website that I can no longer find.
This recipe will make 2 - 3 fruitcakes, depending on size (I get 3 each 9x5 loaves)
Oven temp: 300 - 325. ( I use 325)
Time: 2 - 2.5 hours (mine tend to go about 2 hours) - done when toothpick comes out of center clean
Pan prep: line with brown paper or foil and grease liberally with Crisco or other shortening
List of ingredients:
Directions:
1 - 2 days before making soak the raisins and currants in 2 cups Captain Morgan
Cream butter and brown sugar until fluffy
Add eggs one at a time
Add molasses and cream well
Mix flour, spices and salt in a separate bowl
Combine milk, 1/4 cup Captain Morgan, coffee, and baking soda
Alternately add flour mixture and milk mixture, beginning and ending with flour
mix in strawberry jam
drain raisins and currants
add all fruit and mix until covered with batter
bake
when completely cool - remove foil/ paper
wrap in foil (or plastic wrap) and place in a zip lock and refrigerate
Non-Alcoholic Version:
For Captain Morgan, substitute Martinelli's Apple Cider (3 cups) with Martinelli's Mulling Spices (1 pack mulling spice/ cup of cider) microwave and let sit. use 2 1/4 cups of the spiced cider - drink the left over.
Cooks.com and a Southern cooking website that I can no longer find.
This recipe will make 2 - 3 fruitcakes, depending on size (I get 3 each 9x5 loaves)
Oven temp: 300 - 325. ( I use 325)
Time: 2 - 2.5 hours (mine tend to go about 2 hours) - done when toothpick comes out of center clean
Pan prep: line with brown paper or foil and grease liberally with Crisco or other shortening
List of ingredients:
- 1 cup butter
- 1 cup brown sugar (I use light brown)
- 3 eggs
- 1 cup molasses
- 1/2 cup milk
- 1/4 cup strong coffee
- 2.25 cups Captain Morgan spiced rum (original) - This will be divided
- 1/2 tsp baking soda
- 3.5 cups flour
- 1 cup strawberry jam (seedless)
- 1 15 oz box dark raisins
- 1 15 oz box currants
- 1 tsp allspice
- 1 tsp ginger
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 1/2 tsp cloves
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1/2 cup dried cherries (I use Ranier, if I can find them)
- 1 cup dried cranberries
- 1/2 cup dried blueberries
- 1/2 cup dried mango
- 1/2 cup dried apricots
- 8 oz citron
Directions:
1 - 2 days before making soak the raisins and currants in 2 cups Captain Morgan
Cream butter and brown sugar until fluffy
Add eggs one at a time
Add molasses and cream well
Mix flour, spices and salt in a separate bowl
Combine milk, 1/4 cup Captain Morgan, coffee, and baking soda
Alternately add flour mixture and milk mixture, beginning and ending with flour
mix in strawberry jam
drain raisins and currants
add all fruit and mix until covered with batter
bake
when completely cool - remove foil/ paper
wrap in foil (or plastic wrap) and place in a zip lock and refrigerate
Non-Alcoholic Version:
For Captain Morgan, substitute Martinelli's Apple Cider (3 cups) with Martinelli's Mulling Spices (1 pack mulling spice/ cup of cider) microwave and let sit. use 2 1/4 cups of the spiced cider - drink the left over.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Us or Them
You either love them or you don't. There is no middle ground. The haters find all kinds of excuses: Too dry, too mushy, too old fashioned.
Fruitcake.
I can't imagine Christmas without one. When I first left home I would beg my mother to include one of her church circle's fruitcakes among my gifts. I would return to school with it and cut off a slice every now and then. I would make it last as long as possible and enjoy every last bite.
The year that Mom announced that the "ladies" were too old to make fruitcakes was a sad one. I begged her for just one fruitcake for me. When that plea failed I asked for the recipe. "It is in the old Betty Crocker cookbook, " she said. One Betty Crocker cook book reprint later I tried the recipe. Total disaster. Not only did it not bake correctly, it didn't taste anything like those that the church circle made. That was years before the internet.
Two years ago, I googled "fruitcake recipes" and got many hits. I read them for what seemed like days and didn't find one that I really liked. So I wound up combining two. One was a "southern" recipe featuring lots of rum and brandy soaking. And lots of molasses (I have always loved dark fruit cake). The other was a recipe that featured LOTS of dried fruit...and none of the candied peel, candied cherries, or other traditional fruitcake ingredients. It has proved to be a hit.
Soaking the raisins and currants for two days in Captain Morgan gives a lovely flavor with a little bite. Adding a cup of strawberry jam keeps things moist. The fruit is a mixture of dried cranberries, blueberries, apricots, mangoes, and cherries. Oh, and 8 oz of citron. I just love it. And for a "non-alcoholic" mix, just substitute apple cider with lots of mulling spices for the rum...
Only the most die hard fruitcake haters will not join our ranks.
The Bearded One took one fruitcake to work on Tuesday. Today he took two more. two years ago I was making one batch of fruitcake. This year it looks to be three..
Fruitcake.
I can't imagine Christmas without one. When I first left home I would beg my mother to include one of her church circle's fruitcakes among my gifts. I would return to school with it and cut off a slice every now and then. I would make it last as long as possible and enjoy every last bite.
The year that Mom announced that the "ladies" were too old to make fruitcakes was a sad one. I begged her for just one fruitcake for me. When that plea failed I asked for the recipe. "It is in the old Betty Crocker cookbook, " she said. One Betty Crocker cook book reprint later I tried the recipe. Total disaster. Not only did it not bake correctly, it didn't taste anything like those that the church circle made. That was years before the internet.
Two years ago, I googled "fruitcake recipes" and got many hits. I read them for what seemed like days and didn't find one that I really liked. So I wound up combining two. One was a "southern" recipe featuring lots of rum and brandy soaking. And lots of molasses (I have always loved dark fruit cake). The other was a recipe that featured LOTS of dried fruit...and none of the candied peel, candied cherries, or other traditional fruitcake ingredients. It has proved to be a hit.
Soaking the raisins and currants for two days in Captain Morgan gives a lovely flavor with a little bite. Adding a cup of strawberry jam keeps things moist. The fruit is a mixture of dried cranberries, blueberries, apricots, mangoes, and cherries. Oh, and 8 oz of citron. I just love it. And for a "non-alcoholic" mix, just substitute apple cider with lots of mulling spices for the rum...
Only the most die hard fruitcake haters will not join our ranks.
The Bearded One took one fruitcake to work on Tuesday. Today he took two more. two years ago I was making one batch of fruitcake. This year it looks to be three..
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