Dear Quarantine Diary – Week 37

Tags

back to school, chocolate, cooking, covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, family, first day of school, food, humour, school, shopping, Toblerone

Dear Diary –
What I said: I passed a dead possum on the side of the road today.
What Youngest Son said: Did it hurt?
If you don’t get it, think bathroom jokes….

This is what I live with…

Dear Diary – The first day of school passed more like a whimper than a bang, which I suppose is a good thing. This was the year that Youngest Son was going to be responsible to get himself up and to school, on time, by himself. It’s looong overdue.

But I’m a sucker.

And it’s a looong walk.

Especially in the rain.

So, while I’ve bit my tongue and paced internally instead of hollering to get a move on, I’ve still provided transportation in the mornings.

Even today when he was running late and my blood pressure was high.

Baby steps!

Less than impressed, Youngest Son’s schedule slots lunchtime at 10:10, which means by the time he walks home, he’s ready to eat the whole box of cheerios and it’s cousin, corn pops. Which also means that he’s not really eating dinner. One night he ate his veggies but not his meat. The next night he ate his meat but not his veggies. I suppose I should be happy because at least he’s getting a balanced diet.

I shudder to think what’s coming next. With co-op in periods 4 & 5, he’ll have 10 minutes to get to his work placement, wherever that may be. I’m hoping it’s online and he can steal into a corner in the library. Then I’ll only have to make one trip to the school per day…or eventually stick to the plan and not drive him at all.

Baby steps!

Dear Diary – I’m not sure why, but someone left a message on the wipe board on the fridge where I keep my grocery list. I’m not sure if it was intended for me…. “You’re not useless. You can still be used as a bad example”.

Another example of what I live with…

Dear Diary – With Youngest Son poised to leave for Uni next year, I think it’s important that Hubby and I start keep working on our relationship, so I suggested we start dating. We never really “dated” because we were poor students, and the first year of our relationship was long distance. We got to know each other slowly with in-person visits every 6 weeks or so, and snail mail. We labeled our return addresses with a nickname and the name of where we lived…I was Neurotic and he was Twit.

I probably started that.

Since Hubby is on vacation this week and even he can stand only so much t.v., he wanted to do something together. And since I have a Honey-Do list longer than both my arms, I suggested something we could do outside of our home: couch shopping!

Apparently couch shopping was more appealing than yet another episode of Forged in Fire or Engineering Dimensions. Or the rest of the Honey-Do list. Or perhaps, he’s sick of the ongoing conversation realized this is important to me.

We bought our current burlap sack couch when we bought our home 21 years ago. Neither of us liked it particularly, but we thought it would wear well…and mostly we could afford it. It was delivered the day we mvoed in. But I’m beyond ready for a change and I desperately want something comfortable where I can sit with my legs up! My ankle is perpetually swollen and the edge of the coffee table digs into the backs of my legs. We might even splurge on another chair or two so that when both kids are home, we’re not lined up, 4 on a couch, elbowing each other as we have a t.v. dinner. Especially when one of them is left-handed!

Shockingly, Hubby and I shared a lot of common likes and dislikes amongst the massive options. Neither of us wanted leather, corduroy, or royal blue velvet. We found a couple of options to sleep on and we can do it without declaring bankruptcy. It’s close though.

We celebrated with lunch at Cora’s and yes, I gave him credit for this to be a date. I even let him play his game on his phone (but only because I knew he’d probably need my help)! 🙂

Dear Diary – It’s been a few years since I made fresh pasta. I don’t know why I didn’t during covid, but that may have been because I was hoarding flour to bake brownies bread and later on, I stopped caring. Whatever the reason, Hubby asked and I like making him happy. I made the pasta; he made the sauce. It was a match made in Heaven. The sauce and the pasta. Us? There have been days…

Dear Diary – I’m not kidding. I won a 4.5kg Toblerone bar at the church’s Sunday Funday event!

As I filled out the form and stuffed my ticket in my pocket, I told Hubby I wasn’t worried because I never win anything. Later, someone asked me if I’d share it with Hubby if I won. I hestitated. I said “yes” of course, but scoffed internally because I wouldn’t win it. And I was ok with that.

On Day 1, I asked for suggestions on just what to do with a 4.5 kg chocolate bar. Only Hubby was truly helpful; He sent me a link to 10 recipes. The one that caught my eye was sour dough brioche babka with toblerone and caramelized white chocolate. My Dad just shared some of his sour dough starter. 

I smell a disaster in the making!

On Day 2, we started to confer on the best way of breaking into it.

Throwing Ax #1 or Throwing Ax #2

Holding 2 throwing axes, and knowing how good my aim actually is (I’ve won 2 of the 2 tournaments I’ve played in…and having only tried axe throwing twice, I think my aim is pretty good!), Hubby suggested the meat cleaver.

Like I couldn’t throw that if I wanted…

So on Day 3 –

Aim and GO!

Don’t worry, there is a cutting board under that. It required some muscle but I wasn’t going to let anything keep me from sweet success!

We devoured 1/12th in less than 24 hours. In fact, Youngest Son became the “parent” and took the container away from me…having failed the first when he just moved it out of reach.

Nice try, buddy. I’m very adaptable and I can use my feet to shift the box closer.

I’m not sure what the next step will be, but I’ll keep you posted!

To victory: it looks unfamiliar but it tastes like chicken.

Jeff Winger, Community

Dear Quaratine Diary – Week 31

Tags

cooking, dear diary, family, food, humour, sewing, storms

Dear Diary – I think we’re into week 31 of 2022, but I’m not really sure. Summer has a way of making each day slide along, somewhat peacefully. Monday starts with the full promise of time and I’m always shocked when I suddenly realize it’s almost the weekend and I really haven’t accomplished anything of value. Somehow the toilet still gets cleaned and we haven’t starved to death, but it’s no wonder I have a burst of energy in September. It’s like I suddenly wake up and realize that my glorious lazy days are at an end and my house is a disaster. But Diary, it’s still August, so the house can wait. A little extra dust never hurt a soul!

Both of us can’t look good…it’s either me or the house!

Unknown

Dear Diary – Mr. Cardinal has been sitting on the bird feeder and pipping all morning. Either he’s a disatisfied diner or he’s trying to let me know his water bowl is empty again.

Dear Diary – I asked Youngest Son what time I should wake him. He said he’d get himself up. So I left him along…I woke him at 5:30 p.m., right before Hubby got home from work.

He was wide awake at bedtime. I was not!

Dear Diary – I took a mini break from sewing. I’m still really enjoying it, but part of me worries that I’ll run out of projects before I get involved in other things and I’ll be bored. Of course, there’s always housework. (Did you laugh out loud too?) It would be nice to earn back what I’ve invested. Then there’s the issue of storage…I have 13 Japanese Knot Bags listed in my Esty store, and a few more ready to be listed, and others nearly completed. Just what am I going to do with them all if I never sell any? I don’t really want to be the most fabulously fashionable grocery shopper in history? (That is if I ever return to in-person shopping. It’s nice not to have to wrestle with a cart with a wonky wheel or deal with…well, people).

I’m trying really hard to remind myself that sewing and my store are what I do…not who I am! It would be so easy for me to slip into the mindset that I’m a failure or I don’t have value just because my hopes and dreams haven’t exactly taken off. I can reason better when I don’t let emotions take over, and I don’t let the enemy in. He knows my weaknesses and has exploited them for too many years.

I’m not looking for pity (or even sales) by sharing this. Just reminding – there is so much more to who we are than the things we do, the company we keep, or dreams we dream.

Mushy stuff aside, I did say when I finished my pieced projects, using up all the smaller scraps of my fabric stash, I would share.

I’m not done yet, but halfway there…

Mom has kindly continued the arduous (slightly mind-numbing) task of cutting strips…probably in front of Escape the Chateau after lunch. Perhaps that’s what I should do – “Sew and Chateau”, and worry less about the future. If I run out of projects, I can always clean.

(I almost said that with a straight face…)

Dear Diary – The trip home was fine and after nearly a week, I finally worked up the courage to try my new air fryer. Yes, I finally succombed to the pandemic fad and bought one for our household. I decided to start with something easy – frozen french fries. While they were burning cooking, I pan fried shrimp burgers for the boys. What disgusting anemic, pinkish, congealed-looking patties, which defied their visual appearance and didn’t stick or fall apart in the pan. Someone knew how to use binder glue well!

Since I am allergic to fish and shellfish, I made myself a BIG salad. I figure if I can’t walk off the extra pounds (that keep bringing friends), I’ll have to watch what I eat. I added cheese, pecans, carrots, and strawberries to 2 kinds of lettuce, and topped it off with a sesame ginger dressing. Yum!

The fries were definitely crispy!

We settled down to our dinner, waiting for the big boom. A severe thunderstorm warning had extended across the southern end of the province all day, but all day it flip-flopped between clouds and sunshine. I did some gardening and read in my chair. Two cheeky red squirrels played on the fence. One of them even got stuck, temporarily, in my gourd bird feeder (which has never housed a bird), and I could hear the scrabble of hind feet trying to get out. These fellows have likely been stuck before as I noticed the opening had been chewed to make it wider. They both sat on the railing over my head and we had a conversation before their nerves couldn’t take it any more and they fled the way they had come.

All this to say, we were waiting for the big boom and had even cancelled Halo Night. With the prediction of high winds, hail, and possible tornados, we were expecting power outages and internet interruptions. Oldest Son was on-call to work if there was storm damage. I was kind of relieved to not be trapped in a game, as I was worried about another kind of boom after ingesting so many vegetables. My system has not taken kindly to veggies for years now, and now that I’m not working and stressed to the breaking point, I’m trying to re-train it to behave!

There were no big booms.

We barely got enough rain to wet the ground.

It was all very disappointing. Not getting the thunderstorm. Happy about the other.

I like thunderstorms. Can my life be so boring that thunderstorms are really that exciting? Probably. I like the anticipation of danager, the sloshing of the rain against the windows, the sound that rumbles in your chest, and the spectacular light displays in the night sky. I certainly don’t want any one to be hurt, or their property damaged, but there is a wildness and wonder to it all.

Instead of wonder, I have to venture into the sweltering yard and water my plants because I don’t have to wonder what will happen if I don’t!

Speaking of wonder, I’m wondering how long it will be before Oldest Son listens to the wise words of those who love him most, and he finally purchases a new car! His car has long been a sour lemon, rife with transmissions issues, squeaky brakes, and flaky everything else. He lost the radio/cd player years ago, and occasionally the A/C too.

Last week, he discovered a flat tire at the end of a very long, very hot day. Remember, he works outside in heavy protective gear regardless of the temperature or humidity levels. He said it took awhile to unstick the spare tire, and as luck would have it, he lost a lug nut in a sewer during the swap. Lo! And behold! The spare tire also had a leak. New spare tire ordered, but consequently, he would not be visiting us for the long weekend.

However, he would have to make a flying trip within the next 7 days to pick up his suit for both a wedding and a funeral the following weekend. (It lives at Homebase because twice he’s shown up for a family funeral missing some of it). Even though I was tired from my own commute home from my folks, I offered to visit him on Saturday and deliver his suit.

Saturday morning, I hopped in the shower before ironing his dress shirt. Hubby kindly loaned a second shirt for the second occasion. I packed a cooler with homemade burger patties, buns, potato salad, chips, and all the condiments (because he has none) and the three of us headed west.

There was construction on the highway. A lot of it.

We arrived after noon and I commenced with a few rounds of dirty dishes and cleaned most of the bathroom. Like Oldest Son, it was pretty furry. Still, it was really nice to be together, and I got a few hugs to sustain me until we meet again. Which will be soon, Lord willing, when Oldest Son has a few days off. I still say that “home” is where your loved ones are…whether a house in the country or a space in the city…and “home” is where I am happiest!

A description of Oldest son’s housekeeping style: there appears to have been a struggle.

I know….I’m one to talk!

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week #24

Tags

comedy, cooking, covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, humour

Dear Diary – It’s week 24 in 2021 and it’s beginning to look like there’s light at the end of the tunnel. It could be a freight train bearing down on us…or maybe it’s just the roadrunner on a push and pull. Either way, like a truck, we’ll know when it hits us! I’m just worried it’s going to hit us right before the official start of summer!

A few provincial restrictions were lifted on Friday, 2 days early because of “good behaviour”. Which is always questionable, but I digress. As expected, the restless, housebound natives behaved like teenagers when Mom and Dad are away, and partied hard with their friends. Patio lights, fireworks, and the foul speech of a drunken sot lit up the neighbourhood all weekend. Remember, I’m Gladys Kravitz! I see everything! Part of me just doesn’t care anymore – no one listens to me anyway! The other sanctimonious part of me is silently hoping for an inconvenient consequence to present itself to them, one that won’t trip up my trip to the country. Like everyone else, I’m ready to blow this pop stand!

My anxious friend has spent a few days now, off and on, trying to book my second covid vaccinations. It seems everyone is panicking to get it, as if that will somehow “save summer”. People are triple booking appointments, and then choosing which one best accomodates their busy schedule. Except there’s still nowhere to go, and we all still need hair cuts! Now they’re temporarily “out” of vaccine. It’s like a twisted virtual version of the hunger games.

May the odds be ever in your favour.

Suzanne Collins

Dear Diary – Hubby and I picked the hottest day of the week to make the necessary trek to mail a cheque. To pay a bill. It’s the old-school way, but after my 27 hour long day last month, I didn’t want to risk my credit information falling into the wrong hands. My nerves are still a little raw. By the time we arrived 15 minutes later, I was mouth-breathing heavily and sweating glowing like a pig.

Twenty years! We’ve lived in our crappy house in this crappy neighbourhood for 20 years, and the dinged red postal box has always been there. Except today.

Was it stolen? Abducted by aliens? A Canadian time machine? Maybe some intoxicated middle-aged hooligans went on a mailbox spree, because anyone younger might not know what a mailbox is for…

Suffice it to say, the walk home was faster because now I was on a mission and I was going to be late for my comedy club meeting. We hopped in our air-conditioned car and drove to the next closest mailbox…only to discover that it too had vanished into thin air.

Mailing a letter is no longer an environmentally-friendly and health-conscious activity when we have to drive 6.8 km to the nearest box!

Dear Diary – I feel so stupid. I threw leftover potatoes in the microwave at the last minute, tossing a cover over it and slamming the door shut. Twenty seconds later, something exploded. I shrieked and opened the door. I had covered the potatoes with the metal lid from my stock pot and the end of the lid had blown off. Thankfully no potatoes were harmed in this disaster, and the microwave still works. My ability to handle household applicances has, however, been called into question, but since no one else wants to cook…

Dear Diary – It’s been 2 years since I knocked “Attend Skillet Concert” off my bucket list! Not only was it an awesome evening, I got to share it with my boys. By the night’s end, our muscles were sore from dancing, our voices were whispers, and we were flying high! We even stopped for donuts on the way home. It was legendary!

Speaking of donuts, I stopped at Tim Horton’s on National Donut Day. With the long drive-thru line, I went inside to avoid the long drive-thru line. Usually it’s way faster! Not that night. I hate how the people, who are too lazy to get our of their cars, get treated like royalty, while those of us who enter are treated like parasites. I know my legs are so white but are they really objects to be reviled? Does my terrific tush not deserve donuts too?

Four people worked the window while two others made food; no one was watching the restaurant. I seriously toyed with the idea of self-serve. I mean, would they really notice? After 5 minutes, I asked the gentleman standing at the cash if he’d been served. He rolled his eyes and nodded “no”, so I yelled. Yes, I became a Karen and I used my “Mom” voice: “Excuse me!” Every head twisted in my direction. “Is anyone serving the customes IN your restaurant?” I asked. The teen behind me snickered. The employees exchanged glances, with slackened jaws and fearful eyes.

I won’t lie – it was satisfying.

I was polite to the lady who finally stepped up, and, by golly, I got my 3 donuts, but it shouldn’t have taken fifteen minutes! That’s why today, I’m making my own! Hopefully… I won’t blow anything up!

Dear Diary – The regional gardening facebook page patrons confirmed my fears. I’m growing grass, and not the kind you can smoke. I planted 5 different types of herbs and only 2 are making an appearance. The rest of the planter is weeds and really healthy grass. The irony is that I can’t get grass to grow in the yard.

Dear Diary – The next time someone tells me I’m over-reacting when I complain about physio torture, I’m showing them this photo. It felt WAY worse than it looks!

It got prettier and prettier…

I couldn’t wear a bra for 2 days and I was afraid I was going to turn too quickly and give someone a black eye.

Dear Diary – What does a killer fluffy bunny, harem-loving, basket-weaving sweat shop cult leader look like? Occasionally I like to re-read former blog posts. This one came from Dashboard Batman and I can’t help wondering, what happened to that creative, off-the-wall person inside. I’ve known for awhile that my blog is lacking sparkle. That’s one of the reasons I took an Intro to Comedy Writing course. A course offered on Facebook has to be of the highest quality, right?

I decided to start my midlife crisis because I had spent too much of my life crying and it was time to laugh. I want to be that crazy, blue-haired lady in the nursing home, who, when I’m stirring up trouble in the halls, sits quietly in the corner laughing to myself (or at myself) because I have some great memories.

My point is this: I just want to say thanks to the 3 readers who tune in regularly and comment often to encourage me. It’s so much more fun to laugh at myself, when someone else is laughing with me. Let’s all keep our eyes open and just enjoy the opera of the every day. One day the fat lady will sing and the opera will be over, and I don’t know about you, but I want those who have journeyed with me to be able to say, “she lived life fully, even if she never had a “full” life”!

Life is too short to be serious all the time. So, if you can’t laugh at yourself…call me. I’ll laugh with you.

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week #12

Tags

cooking, covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, humour, parenting, spring cleaning, teenagers

Dear Diary – Spring is officially here, which supposedly means it’s time to tackle dreaded Spring cleaning (and I can’t say “I’m too busy” during quarantine )! So I pulled out boxes from under my bed and exterminated some dust bunnies. I sorted through a box of odds and ends and found some miscellaneous photos. Most were tossed out, but one out-take made me laugh out loud.

I had asked the photographer at my wedding to do a large family group shot including Big Guy, Hubby, my parents, brother and sister-in-law, grandparents, aunts, uncles and first cousins. I don’t know who took this snap but bless them!

Yup! That’s my mom giving my dad the ol’ bunny ears…

There’s one in every crowd!

Dear Diary – Complaining about my covid weight is like someone complaining about a politician when they didn’t vote. Especially when I’m inhaling goodies. So, I’ve been trying to find healthier experiments options. This week I tried eggplant parmigiana. It was much more labour intensive than I anticipated considering it’s 3 basic ingredients: eggplant, sauce and cheese. I ended up with such a pile of dishes: 2 colanders (for salting and draining the eggplant), 2 saucepans (because the first one was way too small), 3 bowls, a frying pan and a casserole dish (to bread, fry and store the eggplant), 1 dish to bake, and all the assorted utensils to cut, measure and grate. While it turned out beautifully, there was one problem: it turns out I don’t like eggplant.

My hobbies include eating and complaining that I’m fat

Yesterday I made a chicken pie from scratch. I also created another mess, albeit smaller than Monday’s mess.

But unlike the eggplant, this I liked! I mean, what’s not to like about butter and lard… Before you condemn me for not eating healthier, it did have vegetables inside.

Dear Diary – I’ve started sleeping with the new mouth guard. It won’t help me win any beauty contests. It takes me forever to get to sleep because it gives me a headache and it tastes slightly of perfume. Also, I am afraid of choking and drowning on my spit in my sleep. When I said I wanted to die peacefully in my sleep, this isn’t quite what I had in mind.

Dear Diary – This weekend I get to meet the physical terrorist therapist for physical torture therapy on my shoulder, now that I’ve been shot! Hubby went to her a few months ago. I take comfort in the fact that she’s shorter than me. It means maybe I can take her on. Put ’em up!

Dear Diary – Hubby and I have been pvr-ing and binge watching the Great British Baking Show. We’ve watched some of the same seasons more than once. Partly because we don’t remember who wins.

When did our interests switch from action adventure to cooking?

I suppose both genres could have explosions….and steamy buns.

There are other problems with watching so many British shows:

1. It makes me want to bake.
2. The voice in my head develops a British accent.
3. Hubby and I start using phrases out loud, in a British accent, which really annoys Little Guy.

I guess that last one really isn’t a problem. 😉

Dear child – I plan to give you love, nurturing, and just enough dysfunction to be funny. Love Mom

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week #11

Tags

baking, cooking, covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, doctors, groceries, humour, music

Dear Diary – I got shot today. I knew it was probably going to happen.

I showed up at the rheumatologist’s office full of pepto bismol and sweating through my t-shirt. I don’t think the doctor quite believed me when I said I’m in bad shape, until he asked me to raise my arms…his eyebrows went up and he grimaced and shook his head before commenting, “nope, definitely going to do the cortisone shot”.

I was prepared for “the worst”. I had envisioned a 6″ needle being forcibly stabbed into my shoulder, followed by searing pain right before I lost consciousness. Instead, it was just a small prick. As he went to sit down to print my prescription, I said “that wasn’t so bad”. Famous last words! No sooner had the words left my mouth, that my body realized the violation to which it had just been subjected, and it screamed at me. I bit my lip under my mask and with curled my toes, tip-toed to the pharmacy next door. I had to replace the shot for the next victim patient.

I texted Hubby from the car: “ow!” Both Hubby & Little Guy met me at the door at home. They cooked dinner and brought me my plate of spaghetti. They even grated cheese on it. The next day, before my “24 hours of rest” ended, Little Guy suggested I leave the dishes…for Hubby. I washed them anyway, but not with my usual vigour.

Now I have to book physiotherapy appointments.

You know you’re getting old when..your address book has mostly names that start with Dr.

Dear Diary – I was excited this week because a current contestant on the Great Canadian Baking Show liked my scone photo from Monday’s post on my Instagram account! He isn’t a celebrity, but it’s the closest I may ever get!

Apparently the CBC is accepting applications for Season 5 of the show. I told Hubby, just to see the look of panicked horror on his face. Even I know my limitations!

Dear Diary – It was Christmas grocery week again, and everything seemed to come together so smoothly. It shoud have been a red flag. When the guy came with my substantially loaded cart, he apologized because they lost one of my bins, and I had already been charged for everything. I was going to have to call and ask for a reimbursement. My stomach immediately twisted in a knot because I knew this was going to be a hassle. Then I had a moment of illumination, and asked nicely, “since you know what’s missing, might there be someone free who could grab those 4 items now”? He supposed he could, if I was willing to wait.

I was willing to wait.

Eggplant paremesiana, a new experiment for me, doesn’t work so well with no eggplant!

Dear Diary – Last weekend, Hubby was worried he was coming down with Covid. He only had to wait 24 hours for a testing appointment, and in that time he gave us all a wide berth. I started to feel like I was the one with the plague, and with such close contact in our small house, if he had it, it was toooooo late! Sunday morning he came home relieved that he had not been lobotomized during the testing. On Monday afternoon, I was in the process of calling to reschedule an appointment, when he hollered up the stairs, “I don’t have the plauge”!

On the plus side, he can now taste his coffee.

That might seem like an odd comment, but the man has virtually no sense of taste or smell. I believe him after, several years ago, he stuck his nose next to Little Guy’s horrifically smelly bum (I could smell it on another level of the house) and inhaled without passing out.

Dear Diary – Why are dermatology offices always pristine, minimalist, and white? Soft flute music was piped throughout. I felt like I was in a spa (or what spas look like on t.v. having only been to one once in my life). I could certainly have used a relaxing massage…and maybe a pedicure!

Dear Diary – Hubby farted and I asked him, “what is that? B-flat?”. I was close. He farted a perfect middle C.

We already know I scream in A.

Talk nerdy to me!

Dear Diary – It’s nearly time to clean the oven again. Little Guy commented last night that he thought he smelled smoke. The oven had just been on because I had just baked another batch of pumpkin chai scones, so I told him it wasn’t smoke, but the incense of many burnt offerings.

Today me will live in the moment, unless it’s unpleasant, in which case me eat a cookie.

Cookie Monster

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week #9

Tags

cooking, covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, disasters, humour

Dear Diary – It’s been the kind of week where I start the day fresh and full of plans, including taking some time to be creative. By the end of the day, I’m wondering “what happened”? It’s not like I’m lying around in my pjs watching my “stories” and eating bon-bons. Although, that does sound nice!

I suppose I did go a little wild this week! It’s all a blur. I went to the drug store for some extra groceries, and Fabricland for a new sewing maching needle, since I shattered my last one. (I got some fabric too…shh…). I put gas in the car for the first time this year. I think the last time was in September. I picked up my tax receipt at the church and saw my chiropractor. I taxied my friend and waited in the parking lot.

And then I really threw caution to the wind and went through the Tim Horton’s drive-thru. O sweet elixir for the caffeine addict, enticing nectar from the camellia sinensis plant! How I have missed thee!

Dear Diary – Do rice krispy squares count as baking? If so, I baked this week. Last week, I baked blueberry scones. I hid 2 in the freezer. Shh…don’t tell!

Dear Diary – I’m wondering if quarantine has made us all retreat into our own little worlds more than we realize. Initially, we were so starved for human contact that we would post anything that made us smile. There was a phase where emotions ran high and tempers flared, so everyone took a step back or joined different “camps”. Gradually, posts began again but more selective. I’ve noticed fewer interactions on multiple social media outlets. I could count the number of condolences on the loss of a dear friend on one hand. There were people I expected to at least acknowledge this loss, and when they didn’t, I was disappointed and felt lonely. I’m not laying guilt trips on anyone; we’re all keeping busy. I’m just reminding myself that people are important, and unless I stay in touch, I won’t know what they’re wrestling with, and consequently, I won’t be there for them when they need me most. The world around us will always be changing but our need for each other won’t. Call, text or message someone today!

Dear Diary – Cheese does not cover all evils. Sure, it was lovely and gooey in the butternut squash lasagna I made from scratch, but it couldn’t quite cover the flavour of burnt!

With online grocery shopping for two weeks at a time consumming hours to plan and buy, and with the insane price of food these days, I’ve been exploring vegetarian options. I try to prepare one vegetarian meal per week, which is a challenge in a household of male carnivores.

First, I forgot to order lasagna noodles, so I had to make my own. While they were slightly ovoid in shape, they were silky and smooth. The difficulty, this time, was the sauce!

I have made bechamel sauce many times before, including in the pastitio I made for Valentine’s Day. I followed the recipe exactly and it should have thickened in 5 minutes. After 10 minutes of constant stirring, my arms were ready to fall off. By 20 minutes, I was pretty sure I’d burned off all the skin on my forearms. Little Guy took over so I could roll the pasta, but he couldn’t take the heat.

We gave up. Unlike my waistline, it wasn’t getting any thicker, and it was smelling scorched. Unfortunately, the squash was juicy too, so we ended up with a very wet, slightly scorched lasagna. The pasta was good. The cheese was awesome. So I’m thinking, next time…I’m making mac ‘n cheese, with a side of steak!

According to this box of mac ‘n cheese, I’m a family of 4!

Dear Diary – A few people have been posting pics on FB, following my dear friend’s passing. I have to say, we all still look pretty good! I was actually surprised at how little I’ve changed. I mean, I’m still growing….just rounder. My hair is blue, but it’s a creative choice not yet necessary to cover gray hair. It’s coming, as is a double chin and false teeth.

Speaking of teeth, I have to go to the dentist tonight and I’m terrified. I know there’s an issue that needs to be addressed. I don’t know why I’m so afraid of the dentist. Maybe it’s the fact that I had sooo many teeth pulled when I was a kid because my mouth was too small (no comments from the peanut gallery to the contrary) or a bad experience with a root canal. I fell off my bike as a kid and my face broke my fall. I could only eat yogurt for weeks. I hate yogurt.

I hate dentists more.

Some tortures are physical And some are mental, But the one that is both is dental.

Ogden Nash

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week #7

Tags

baking, cooking, covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, humiliation, humour, shopping, Valentine's Day

Dear Diary – I declared last Friday a pajama day! (but just so I wasn’t completely disgusting, I did shower and put on clean pajamas). I was so excited to have family and friends join in or comment on our “Adult Spirit Day”! I think we should plan something for next month. Anyone?

Cheers!

Dear Diary – I am a Valentine’s Day survivor. It’s that one holiday between Christmas chocolate and Easter chocolate, that I tend to despise. Too many bad experiences that make me want to cry out “Bah…humbug!” As always, I wore my traditional black to honour my friend (my little black dress stayed in the closet where it continues to shrink), and we ordered in pizza.

On Sunday morning, I received a cryptic text from Big Guy. I had my suspicions but I played dumb (which I’m really good at doing). Sure enough, within 10 minutes I heard snow crunching outside the front door. I opened to a stranger hightailing it away from my house and a large brown paper bag on my doorstep. Even though it was obviously too small for Big Guy to hide in, I brought it inside gingerly. It contained Tim Horton’s: 1 large coffee, 1 large steeped tea (Mine!), 1 large chocolate milk, and 3 chocolate chip cookies. It was the best breakfast from the sweetest kid!

I miss him.

Hubby also cooked us eggs and hash browns (yum!) and helped with dishes. Little Guy played Halo with me in the evening. 🙂

So it was my turn to treat. I spent the afternoon making pastitio, a layered Greek pasta dish similar to lasagna, with a thick bechamel sauce on top, and loads of gooey cheese. Very low cal. For dessert, homemade shortbread cookies. I experimented with flavouring the icing with tea: purple was earl grey, pink was cherry lucuma, and brown was s’mores chai. If you knew to look for the flavours, I mean really concentate, you could taste them.

• 

• 

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I also made a cardboard template and cut out what were supposed to be tea bag shaped cookies. It took forever. Little Guy thought they were price tags. Obviously the baker on The British Baking Show did a much better job!

Sadly, my kid didn’t get to spend Valentine’s Day with his new sweetheart, who I have yet to meet. Of course, with Covid, they rarely get to meet!! Long distance relationships can be hard at the beginning, however, it also means you have time to get to know each other. That’s how Hubby and I started. Instead of texting, we wrote long letters, and occasionally talked on the phone after 11 p.m. when the long distance rates were lower. There were no phone plans back in the dark ages. Hubby and I also spent our first Valentine’s Day apart and it sucked for other reasons, but we’re still an item, celebrating 25 years in June. Maybe this couple will have quite a story to tell one day: “Love in the Time of Covid”.

Dear Diary – I ordered and picked up groceries on the only day this week that it snowed. Murphy’s law! With the windchill, it was dipping close to -20C, which made for a long, cold wait. I was the only one cued for a pick up and it took forever for them to come. I know why now: I’m feeding an army!

Be thankful for what you have. Your life, no matter how bad you think it is, is someone else’s fairytale.

Wale Ayeni

Dear Diary – Yesterday I supervised Little Guy’s 3 hour Computer Coding Competition. Even though he notified his teachers for the 2 periods he would miss, I still had to notify the school. But where to begin?

I began with the online attendance system used by the school board. It took me 20 minutes of searching and a 5 minute “video for dummy parents” only to discover that the Report Absence Button no longer exists.

So I called local school. She gave me 2 phone numbers for Virtual School. The first number was the correct number to report absences for Virtual School, but the voice mailbox was full, and then it started screaming “error, error” in my ear. So I called the other number and left a detailed voice message. I received a call back almost imediately from a very polite young man, chuckling from his toes. He was a Rogers Communications employee and this was his personal cell phone. Freaking awesome!

Next I sent both schools an email, explaining why I was writing and what number I called to get the “full” mailbox. At least they couldn’t say I didn’t try! There went the first half of my morning.

About 4 p.m., an hour after Little Guy had completed the competition, I received a rather snotty and abrupt email from the local school, giving me the phone number for reporting absences to the Virtual School. Obviously she read my email very carefully. Sigh…

Sheldon: Why are you crying?

Penny: Because I’m stupid!

Sheldon: Well that’s no reason to cry; one cries because one is sad. For example, I cry because others are stupid and it makes me sad.

– Big Bang Theory, Season 3, Episode 10

Tea-Stained Chicken

Tags

cooking, food, food photography, recipes, tea

My cooking is fabulous, even when the smoke detector is cheering me on…

So I’m not a good cook. There are a few crime scene photos to prove it. But I keep trying, and once in awhile I have success. Other times, we had a pile of charred pots. Either way, we haven’t starved yet!

Just over a year ago, I tried a recipe for English Breakfast Tea Chocolate Cake. It was over-the-moon delicious! I made it for Dad’s birthday this year! So I decided to try another “tea” recipe on the savoury side: Tea-Stained Chicken.

Tea-Stained Chicken is also known as Laquered Chicken or Mahogany Chicken. Normally a whole chicken is smoked over a blend of spices and tea leaves, before it is glazed and baked to perfection. But my Weight Watchers recipe book skips the smoking part (thank goodness – can you imagine how much my smoke detector would be cheering?!?), and just made the sauce.

I was running late (as usual) so I prepared my stain and used it immediately, but it could be done up to a day ahead and would likely produce a much darker colour.

I brought 1/2 water to a boil, then set is aside with 1 tea bag (Tetley or Red Rose, I’m not sure which I used), 2 slices of fresh ginger and 4 peppercorns. I thought it was odd that they were so specific with the peppercorns, but it made it easy to count when you fish them out later! 😉

After 5 minutes, I squeezed out my bag and added 1 1/2 tsp. of soy sauce and 1 tsp. packed brown sugar. Back on the heat until it is reduced in half. Let it cool. Remove the ginger and peppercorns and paint it on your chicken.

They suggest browning the chicken in a pan before tossing it in the oven at 350F. The frugal dishwasher in me just tossed it in the oven. Why would I dirty 3 pots and pans for one meal?? It’s like crockpot recipes that you pre-cook 3/4 of the way before putting it in the crockpot. Does that really save me time?

The sauce was a rich, dark brown, and had thickened enough that it didn’t roll right off the chicken. I have made differnt sauces using soy sauce and ginger in the past, but this had a slight acidic tang from the tea, and a lovely subtle heat from the ginger and peppercorns. I would probably make it again.

The recipe book recommended serving the chicken with mango relish. I haven’t had great success in selecting ripe mangoes, so I made a tomato peach salsa instead. I’m surprised I haven’t shared this recipe already – I love it!

• 1 tomato, seeded and diced
• 1 peach, peeled and diced
• 1 1/2 tsp. lime juice
• green onion
• 1 1/2 tsp. oil
• 1 clove garlic or 1/4 tsp. garlic powder
• 1/2 tsp. liquid honey
• 1/4 tsp. chili powder (optional)
• 1/4 tsp. salt
• 1/4 tsp. pepper

You don’t need a silver fork to enjoy good food.

Paul Prudhomme

Bon Appetit!

CFFC: Sense of Taste

Tags

baking, birthday, cake, CFFC, cookies, cooking, food, food photography, Photo Challenge, photography

People who love to eat are always the best people. – Julia Child

Cookies are made with butter and love.

Only the pure in heart can make a good soup. – Ludwig Beethoven

If God had intended us to follow recipes, He wouldn’t have given us grandmothers. – Linda Hemley

A party without cake is just a meeting!

Strawberries are what make life taste wonderful. ― Anthony T. Hincks

Because everything is better with bacon, right?

Happy Wednesday!

This is my post for Cee Nuener’s Fun Foto Challenge: Sense of Taste

Holly Homemaker: The Prequel

Tags

baking, cooking, food, homemaker, humour

Last week I promised to share “Holly Homemaker: The Prequel” but I have been scratching my head ever since to figure out just when Holly began whispering “house & home” suggestions in my ear…

My Mom was never a “domestic goddess” and I don’t think she’ll be offended for me saying so. We ate well, our house was clean and our clothes were always pressed. She sewed “little house on the prairie” dresses and skating costumes for me. She taught me to bake bread in a brick oven and how to embroider. And she tried new, “home-y” things too. We were a happy family.

But looking back, I suspect Holly tortured my Mom before me, with her sweet cinnamon-scented promises of profuse public praise of her skills from her friends and family. So, with motherly wisdom, she tried to protect me from the sad reality that I wasn’t destined to be a domestic goddess either!

I remember asking for an easy bake oven. Whether it was a money issue or fear that I would be creating burnt offerings at too young an age and become discouraged, I never got one. What I did get was a few tiny baking pans and a couple of mini cake mixes, which my mother patiently helped me mix and bake…and smother in chocolate icing to cover that underlying scorched flavour.

My Mom tried cake decorating for awhile and even entered a contest. As I wandered among the creative confections creations, I asked my Mom, “can I do this too?” She paused and looking at me with a smile, said “no”.

But I did learn a few things about home-making from my Mom…how to time my meals so I don’t have soggy veggies with my meat, why I shouldn’t leave plastic items in my oven, and how to beat down a smoke detector with a broom. I moved away from home 21 years ago, and I still open the oven door before I turn it on…even though I NEVER store or hide anything in my oven in the first place. See? I learned…

BUT the lesson I most need to stick, I haven’t seemed to sear into my brain…yet. Just how to oust the skank that invades my home in the Fall. Since posting the things Holly has convinced me to do THIS year, I have baked 2 dozen apple spice cupcakes with brown sugar & cinnamon buttercream icing and a chocolate chip banana cake with cream cheese icing – from scratch! I’ve also made hummus (which my kids won’t eat) and I’m tackling ricotta-filled ravioli tomorrow. Lord willing. Don’t ask about my diet. Just. don’t.

Seriously though, what is wrong with me?

Thanks Mom, for trying to impart your wisdom. If I burn the house down tomorrow, know that I love you!

Happy Weekend!