Wednesday, April 23, 2014


It hasn't been a really good wildflower year, 
but they do pop up in unexpected places.  
These were in the parking lot at the grocery store.

However, there are always a lot of planted flowers around town.  
Would you call them tameflowers?

No matter, they're pretty no matter what I call them.
When Ernest was little, he would have called them "dragonsnaps."

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Lemon Raspberry Cake

Ernest asked for a lemon flavored cake. The rest was up to us.

Frank used the 1-2-3-4 recipe on the Swansdown cake flour box, with the exception that he whipped the egg whites and folded them in, as was described in a similar Joy of Cooking recipe.  He also added the zest of two lemons, and the juice of one, for the requested lemon flavor.  The cake came out denser than we expected but was still moist and delicious.

The Lemon Frosting recipe was from my 1972 Joy of Cooking. Powdered sugar, butter, lemon juice and lemon zest.

We jazzed it up with raspberry filling: 1 package fresh raspberries, some water, 1/4 cup sugar, cook and mash berries. Mix some cornstarch with a bit of water, stir in, cook until thickened. Cool.

The Handy crew liked it a lot.

The raspberry candle holders were my idea.  So easy!  Ernest said, "There better be 18 candles!" There were.

Monday, April 21, 2014

One Thing Leads to Another

The original purpose of this post was to show Homer on sentry duty, waiting patiently for his dinner.

But then I noticed how absolutely disgusting my kick plates were. Truthfully, I don't look down there all that much. They really should have been made of black material. When Handy built them, he only had white melamine.  When he built the bathroom cabinets, I made sure he got some black!

So I spent much of my day lying on my back on the floor scrubbing the kick plates.  And then I scrubbed the floor, because a couple days ago we had given Homer some medicine and instead of swallowing, he ran through the house dribbling white spots all over the floor. And now I think I'll go scrub myself, because house cleaning is a dirty sweaty workout.

So how was your day?

Thursday, April 17, 2014

18 years ago today...

Eighteen years ago today, I birthed a babe.  How time flies.

I would normally have a tribute post here (his brother got a series of 3 posts herehere and here) but it's been a strange and busy week so I will have to come up with something later.

Due to the birthday boy's tight schedule, we aren't celebrating the birthday until Saturday.  There will be some kind of cake.  Frank and I have been given a flavor, but the rest is up to us.

(Photo from Cakes by Marion.)

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Cars About Town

Interesting batch of cars around town lately.

Handy's seen Facemelter on the freeway before.

Holy moly, someone went a little crazy here!

OK, if this is a real Ferrari, it's worth millions.  (You can bet Handy did some extensive internet research on this one.) Who in their right mind would put a multi-million dollar car on a trailer by the side of the freeway?

Friday, April 11, 2014


Remember all those rocking chairs I got from my mom's house? 
And how I thought I'd reached my limit?

Apparently not.  
I didn't inherit any rockers from my dad 
(there was one, but I resisted). 
But I could not resist these beautiful oak dining chairs, 
even though I have no place at all to put them.

The fourth chair is hiding in the background there 
because we took the top of it apart.  
It was missing a back slat and 
I found a place online that would make a replacement, 
if you send them a sample.

So I am waiting for 
to come through with the replacement.

And then I will squeeze them in somewhere.  
I think Homer would enjoy sitting on them,
with a little padding so he won't skid.  
They have nice broad seats for a full-bodied fellow.

Tiny's already taken over one of the rockers.

This all makes me think of this chair...
(I took out the name as I was getting too many weird hits.)

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Crash in the Night

That middle of the night crash that jars you out of a hard-fought sleep. Burglars, your mind thinks. Intruders. Space invaders. As consciousness returns, you realize it was the metallic clatter of a Tiny-toppled cat food bowl. But since the noise didn't rouse any other human household members, you snuggle back into your cocoon and try try try to get back asleep again. You have a rare success. The crunch of kibble underfoot becomes someone else's morning discovery.

Later that morning, the thundercats, Fifi and Tiny, are busy tearing up and down the stairs, running laps around the couch, teasing the curtains behind the TV.

Like this.

Homer wonders why they are so busy. He takes his leisurely morning security patrol around the premises, then settles in near the coffee cup for the first of many morning naps. 

UPDATE:  Thank you, Common Household Mom, for this:

The Cats

To find such glory in a dehydrated pea
on the tile between the stove and fridge.

To toss the needs of others aside
when you simply aren't in the mood for affection.

To find yourselves so irresistible.

And always in a small spot of sun,
you sprawl and spread out the pleasure of yourselves

never fretting, never wanting to go back
to erase your few decisions.

To find yourself so remarkable
all the day long.
"The Cats" by Ann Iverson from Come Now to the Window. © Laurel Poetry Collective, 2003. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)