December 11, 2013...Eight Years Ago

What A Day! It started off with several precursors....but due to the lack of time and my mental state right now....I will skip those. Actually it started 38 years ago....Today is Leigh's 38th birthday and a celebration was scheduled at her favorite place, China Buffet, with all her staff. I had not had time to birthday shop and thought I could get it done this morning before time to arrive. That is when the Charter guy scheduled to come this AM between 8:00 and 10:00 to fix my internet....that I so desperately needed to finish grading for the semester. I ended up leaving Charles (King of Patience) here with him so I could get my shopping done. I knew what she wanted....I knew where to get it...at least I thought I did anyway.

When I arrived at Walmart to purchase her rubber animal...THEY had MOVED the box! I couldn't find it anywhere! Time was running out so I grabbed some nail polish, a glove, and added it to the green frog bird house, and a few other items, and I stuffed them all in a pillow case I had made for her. After all, purchasing wrapping paper is a waste of money. I also had purchased a spool of ribbon to tie a nice little bow around the pillow case. I dashed off to the car with about 15 minutes left when I remembered the hats....the elf hats that staff would wear for the photo that will turn into Leigh's Christmas card. While I grabbed the hats, I got a call from her staff asking if I had reserved the back room at China Buffet. Indeed I had! She informed me that when they arrived, another party had already taken the room and we had been seated up front! Knowing how Leigh can and WILL get a bit loud, I figured the person that double booked would soon realize they had made a BIG mistake.

I went to tie the ribbon on the pillowcase....but the ribbon was no where to be found! I just grabbed the stuffed pillowcase and took off across the parking lot looking like a robber with a bag of loot. Food was great, Leigh loved her gifts, and it was topped of with the little flaming flower that chimes Happy Birthday until it dies....about two weeks later.

When we got back to her house, the crew installing her new floor had not finished, and the only way she was going to leave again was to "ride in Mama's car"....and Mama was exhausted! But off we went to the River Walk. That is where Leigh decided to share some Christmas spirit and tried to hug a woman dressed in middle eastern attire and two homeless men. Guess God knew they needed a hug.

Anyone that knows Leigh knows that she could make the top ten list of con artists. She looked at me with that pitiful look and said, "Mama make Birthday cake." I felt so ashamed....and quickly tried to make up for it by offering her a cupcake. Before I could make my plea, she immediately added ice cream, Coke, and a hamburger to the list! Well, it was her birthday after all. When I looked at the photos made today....the anguish and physical pain found its purpose.

You Know It Is Time To Leave the Kitchen, Part 2

Kitchen Dilemma 

Sooooo, you buy bananas and the person you buy them for (bet you can't guess who) does not eat them. Bananas do not hang around for long, so now they are VERY ripe.  Do you throw the bananas out, or do you look for a recipe to use them all up?
Yeah, if you’ve got a good banana bread recipe, it’s tempting to make banana bread. And there is enough there to almost make a double recipe...almost. You think you can make it work.  So you open up a can of crushed pineapple and drain it. Even drained it has more pineapple than you need for a doubled recipe. Do you throw away the extra pineapple, eat some of it, or just put it all in the banana bread? We were taught NEVER to throw away good food, and I wasn't in the mood for curshed pineapple. 
You chop up your maraschino cherries, and you find that you are just shy of what the doubled recipe needed. Do you just skip the whole bread making thing, make the single recipe and waste some of it, just leave the marachinos out,  or use what you have? Already made this recipe and it HAS to have those cherries! And we were taught NEVER to waste anything!

Then you mash up your banana and realize that you are about a cup short…4 cups needed to double the recipe.  Do you just unmix everything that you’ve done and put it all away and say to heck with it and let those bananas turn black and mushy, or do you just use what you have?  Unmixing can be a bit challenging. Besides, I had extra pineapple. 

You have been watching Rose Red Homestead on YouTube and she said you needed dark pans to bake bread.  You crawl around the kitchen floor opening all your cabinet doors looking for a dark bread pan you KNEW you had...but hadn't used in several years...and you discover some other long forgotten utensils in the far dark corners of the cabinet, pull them out and put them in the sink to be washed and revived. Didn't find that dark pan so you just pull out what loaf pans you have, calculate how many you need...because you doubled that recipe...and do what the recipe says. You grease only what you think you need and set the others aside just in case you need them.  

You mix it all up and stand guard over that mixer because you doubled the recipe and it is about to come over the edge.  After you mix it, you get a measuring cup and divide the batter equally because you want each loaf in that double batch of banana bread to be evenly distributed. You just might make a photo and send it to your sisters, nieces, friends, associates, Martha Stewart, Paula Dean or maybe Brenda Gantt showing off what you have made. They have a way of doing that and it always looks perfect...picture perfect!  And this is your chance to show off. 

You put the batter filled pans in the oven, set your timer, and start to clean up your mess you made making all that banana bread.  That is when you discover that you put the batter in an ungreased loaf pan and you have the one you greased in your hand.  

For some reason, the end product from my kitchen just doesn't look like the photo on the recipe, or taste as described.   Sometimes it just pays to stay out of the kitchen! 

NOTE: Photo of the bread pried from the ungreased pan not shown.   

Recipe for Banana Bread

(I did not add the coconut.) 

Hacked, April 2013

Hacked

I rarely ever shop on line, I delete all strange looking e-mails, don’t talk to strangers, don’t accept their candy, and I don’t accept Facebook Friends I don’t know…… I thought I was safe.   All this changed Monday morning when I woke up to the headline that a former employer’s database had been hacked and confidential information on thousands of people had been compromised.   Having your Social Security number published on the World Wide Web has its own sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach that Pepto-Bismol can’t help.    How dare they (hackers)!   Sooner or later after your start to breathe again the question jumps out and startles your all over AGAIN….What am I going to do?  

While I still am questioning myself about covering all bases, here is what I did.  I looked for my local bank in the phone book and got only 1-800 numbers….dialed the phone, and someone in some other state answered.  I stated that I needed to speak to my local branch IMMEDIATELY!   The lady inquired about the nature of my emergency.  When I explained….she  IMMEDIATELY started telling me about a “product” the bank offered that would protect my account.  It would only cost five dollars a month.    Five dollars a month may not sound like a lot, but for someone retired drawing less than half of their paycheck ….five dollars is a LOT!  That would total sixty dollars a year….that would buy me a whole tank of gas.   The lady did not transfer me but stated that she had spoken with someone and, again, she insisted that I purchase the protection plan.  Again, I declined and by now I am getting irritated.   She was nice enough to give me the numbers of the three credit Kingpins (Equifax, Trans Union, and Experian) where I would need to place an alert in the event that anyone would pick my SS number from among the thousands, and try to buy something I never dreamed of having. 

My first call was to Experian.    I hate pushing buttons…. especially when what I need is not on their menu, and that little automated voice had no clue that I had an EMERGENCY!  Imagine how great I felt when it asked me to enter my SS number.   Wouldn’t you know it….they offered me their ID Theft Protection Insurance!!!!  It was only going to cost about $15 bucks a month.    That would be THREE tanks for gas for the year!     At this point I felt tears in my eyes.   Not once during the whole conversation did I speak with a live person….even though I punched the 0 several times when given menu options.   It only made that darn little automated voice tell me that ‘0’  was not an option, and the message would start all over again.

I understand that when one of the three credit reporting agencies gets an alert, they have to share with the other two.  I had no confirmation that it had been received and processed, so I proceeded to call the next Kingpin…… Trans Union.  This was another several minutes of pushing buttons and sharing my sacred SS number.   And guess what they offered…..you got it….another opportunity to purchase their ID Theft Insurance!   Still no confirmation of having received my notice of alert. 

Kingpin number three….Equifax.  Yes, it was the same button pushing process. But just as I was about to end it, a LIVE person who could barely speak English was suddenly on the line.   Bet you can’t guess what she wanted to talk to me about…....Yep!   The opportunity to purchase their ID Theft Insurance.    I didn’t even bother to ask how much. I was informed that the alert was only good for 90 days. After that I would need to pay to have it extended.  

The next step I took was to look up the Social Security Office on line.  I figured this would be a lot easier than calling them.  If you have ever had to call the SS office… you understand what I am saying.   I was able to navigate through to the page that told me what to do in the event that my SS  number was compromised.   Guess who they suggested for one to call…..Yep!  The three Kingpins…. Experian, Trans Union and Equifax.   Then they gave a link for filing with the FTC.  That was the easiest part of the process.  

The last thing I did was to change my bank access information.   Since yesterday I have logged on to my account and checked it at least a dozen times.   If anyone hacked my bank account, they  (the perpetrator(s)) would be as ticked off over their findings as I would be having to go through the process of changing all my information…..and then trying to remember it the next time I needed to log on. 

Through this whole process, these questions have taken up residence in my mind:

1. Why should I have to buy insurance?  Shouldn’t the person allowing the perps to make a purchase using stolen information be held responsible?  

2. Isn’t having to pay for insurance very much like having to pay the Mafia for their protection? 

The whole town has been abuzz since Monday morning.  In the course of conversation with my cohorts (co-victims), I have been asked, “Who did it?”   If I knew, the FBI would be knocking on my door right now wanting answers, and inquiring as to where the body was located.  Another question asked,  “Why would they do that?”   My answer…because they CAN.  

To the hacker(s):  You are all coprolites.  I included the link to the dictionary so you can look it up.  You stated,  “I'd like to apologize that I've harmed their families, caused problems,” …… How remorseful!    For you I find this fitting….”May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your crotch, and may your arms be too short for your hands to scratch! “

A Two Alarmer

A common word that has taken on a new meaning (well, maybe a better understood meaning) during this quarantine we are currently experiencing is 'essential'. We all have our own list of what we consider essential and each one will vary in some way.  Age will add to or take away from your list.  What is important now at my age wasn't so 'essential' a few years ago.

Because my age puts me in the at risk category, and strict orders from my daughter to stay at home, I found it necessary to place my grocery order and use the convenient curbside pickup. That is another blog post at another time. I made my grocery list of 'essentials' and picked them up several days later at my assigned time.  Both KOP (King of Patience) and I will be rocking the 70's decade this year so it should be no surprise that prunes was on my list of 'essentials'.  I like to cook them, put them in my oatmeal, yogurt, or just eat a couple as a snack.

Today, I emptied my little containter of prunes in my pan, covered it with water, and started the cooking process. It only takes a few minutes and  I needed to check my email for a reply from a recent scam (yes, I got scammed and that is another blog post at another time), so off to the computer I went. 

The shrill sound of an alarm suddenly pierced the silence and I hesitated a few seconds wondering what on earth KOP had done to set it off.  I closed out my email, got up from the computer, and headed that direction to investigate.  I had only made a few steps when the smell of something burning met me headon. I rounded the corner to the kitchen only to discover smoke boiling from my pot of prunes like a Mt St Helens erruption!  I grabbed the pot, truned off the stove, and headed to the sink to cool it off with water while KOP was punching at the alarm, speaking in tongues, trying to stop that infernal beeping.  I grabbed a magazine, stood on a chair, and started fanning the smoke in effort to shut it up when a second alarm started sounding off, and this one had a voice that told us to Evaucate Now! 

And that is when KOP headed toward the back door, leaving me standing on the chair trying to stop the eardrum puncturing noise that was telling everyone within a half mile, including the cemetery residents across the road, that Connie let the prunes burn.  He didn't even say, "Come on, Sweetheart, lets get out of here!" It was obvious that in an emergency it was going to be every man/woman for himself/herself. 

I stepped down out of the chair, abandoned the still shrieking alarm, and headed in his direction to address my concern with him when I realized that KOP was only going to the other alarm and attempting to quiet its stern orders to evacuate.  After a few minutes of open windows and doors, we were able to silence both of them.  

Then it dawned on me...my essential prunes were cremated, I can't go to the grocery store, the next date I can schedule a grocery pickup for more would be next week sometime, and my whole house smelled like burnt purnes! 

You Know it is Time to Leave the Kitchen...

Ecclesiastes 3 says: "For everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven." 

Today I added another verse.  A time to leave the kitchen.  

And you know it's time to leave the kitchen when you decide to make cranberry bran muffins, Heart Healthy muffins. As we age, bran becomes an important staple in our diet, and how better to get our bran than a delicious cranberry bran muffin. You chop up your cranberries and think 'Wow! I could probably double this recipe.'  You check your ingredients and sure enough you have enough to double the recipe...just barely enough. You put your bran and milk in the mixer...enough for a double batch... and let it set, like the recipe states,  and then you start to mix your dry ingredients. When suddenly it dawned on you that you had only put in enough of the dry ingredients for one recipe. You go back and put in another mixing of ALL the dry ingredients.  Then you start to double check the recipe to be sure you didn't leave anything out. It is then that you realize that you put enough sugar in for FOUR recipes... you had already doubled that amount of sugar once and turned around and doubled it again! (moan and groan)  

You have to make a choice, do you make some very sweet  not so heart healthy muffins, or do you add enough ingredients to quadruple the recipe to match the sugar. That is when you realize you do not have enough cranberries or eggs. Maybe making a triple recipe would keep it from being so high in sugar. Then when you start to triple your recipe, a senior moment sets in.  You can't remember what ingredients you have adjusted.....and you start second-guessing yourself on EVERYTHING you put in it!  

I don't know if I got it all right or not... except for too much sugar, but maybe there is enough bran in it to balance the bad stuff and still be somewhat heart healthy.   Now I need to figure out what I'm going to do with 48 (minus three already consumed) cranberry bran muffins.  

Time to leave the kitchen.  

Polistes Encounter

A couple of days ago, I had an unexpected encounter with a Polistes ...that is latin for wasp. I was minding my own business when from out of nowhere that little devil slammed into my forehead in violent fury and zapped me. The battle was on. I nearly knocked my brains out trying to keep it from getting in my hair and stinging me again. Lucky for me, I had not yet picked up my iron skillet to start breakfast.  I was stunned for a few seconds then the pain started.  Within a few minutes every wrinkle between my hairline and the bridge of my nose had smoothed out better than if I had injected it with botox. 
As I regained my senses, revenge was the only thing on my mind. It was apparent that 'satan with a stinger' had escaped the battle and was hiding.  There was no doubt in its mind that it has chosen the wrong victim.  I waited patiently until I heard it buzz.  I took my scissors and with one snip, I chopped off its stinger butt.  (I learned how to do that from my mother decades ago.)  Thinking that the encounter was over, I started to wash my scissors when I noticed that the front half of the stubborn little vermin was still walking and wings buzzing!  One more snip. 
Today my forehead is still slightly swollen, a little sore to touch, and my headache almost gone.  I still haven't figured out if the headache came from the sting or was self inflicted during the battle.

  

Camel Ride

My Australian adventure in 2017 allowed me to have some unusual experiences. One of those was my first camel ride.  Camels were brought to Australia long ago as a beast of burden.  Once the work had been finished, the order was given to shoot the camels.  This order wasn't followed and the camels were released to fend for themselves.  After all, I'm sure the workers had become quite fond of these creatures and who would want to shoot the very beast that had helped you to accomplish your long days of labor in intense heat. Therefore, camels evolved into wild animals.

On one of our stops in the hot desert, we had the option to ride a camel.  Three camels were selected to serve our tour bus of adventurous tourists.  I still had not made up my mind if I was actually going to ride.  I watched others as they mounted...two at a time.  The guided would walk the camels around a large track, yell "CUSH", the camel would kneel, riders dismount, two more would load, camel would stand, and off they would go.  I immediately observed that each camel had a different personality.  One was compliant, one a little lazy, and one was a Contrary A$$ that fussed and balked at each command! The Cush command had to be repeated several times and often reinforced with the threat of a stick.   I calculated...if I was going to ride, I needed to get in line so that I didn't have to deal with old Contrary A$$.  I would ride with the lady in front of me, and we would be riding Compliant.  We were the last two in line.

As we started to mount, the camel guides told us, 'NO"!  The other lady was as blessed as I with weight and he was not going to let us ride double.  He helped the lady get on Compliant...then turned to me...and pointed for me to get on...wouldn't you know it....Old Contrary A$$!!!!   Now everyone else was watching. Not wanting to look like I couldn't do anything they just did, I walked over got a foot hold, and struggled to hoist my well nurtured body to the seat.  Just is I did, Old Contrary A$$ let out a bellow that resonated across the desert leaving the impression that he had just been neutered by a bob cat.  I could feel the blood rising in my face for both anger and embarrassment.  I could hear all those skinny little malnourished hussies laughing and snickering.   My mouth took over and before I could stop them, the words came out of my mouth, "Shut Up, Bitch, and Ride!"  Ride we did, slowly around the track.

As we rounded the corner and headed down the home stretch, the guide asked me if I would like to trot.  Actually, I really didn't, but I saw this as an opportunity to get revenge on Old Contrary A$$.  My response was, "Absolutely!" The guide took off running, holding on to the rope, and OCA had to follow.   As before, Cush did not come easy, but I walked away feeling that I had gotten the last word with Old Contrary A$$.