We now live in a 55 plus community, since we moved almost two years ago. This kind of community has much to offer and we love our home. But one thing it doesn't have is Halloween. No kids live here to come trick or treating. We don't have to worry if the porch light is on or off, no one is going to ring the doorbell either way. We don't have to have bags of chocolate sitting around tormenting us before or leftovers after the scary day. And we don't have to deal with a crazy, barking, lip quivering dog.
But Halloween still comes to our house.
An old and well used scary, white monster mask and matching black flowing cape appear. I don't even know where they're kept. Richard can't remember what he had for breakfast yet he remembers where he hid the Halloween costumes year after year.
My nephew, Scott and his wife, Becky along with their friend, April Amber Autumn, (we can never remember her name, we only know it's a season and it starts with A, or is it?) came up to see us today. Yesterday the mask came out. First Richard tried to scare me with it and then tormented Ginger for a little while. Then he planned a big scare for Scott, Becky and Autumn. When they rang the doorbell, he'd slowly open the door and scare the bejesus out of them.
I stood lookout in the front bedroom. The car pulled up and I yelled for Richard to get into position. I hid in the kitchen, Ginger was safely locked away in the bedroom. The door bell rang.
The latched clicked open on the door. A couple seconds past. Then the laughter began. Lots of it. Hysterical, hard belly laughter. I couldn't stop laughing myself. This was definitely not the reaction he was looking for.
The costume is safely back in it's hiding place for another year. And the relatives are appropriately amused so they have a story to tell over the water cooler tomorrow. Ginger and I are safe from the creepy costume for at least another year.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
From Puzzles to Pancakes
The puzzle is done and I wondered how Richard would fill his time. He didn't waste any time trying to figure that out.
It's pancake day again. Two huge bags of pancake mix have been mixed and measured and are now sitting in bowls waiting to be cooked. My kitchen is now white, having been covered from top to bottom in sticky, wet pancake mix. Richard even has it all over his face. Soon I won't be able to find the dog. She'll be covered in it too.
It's 5:30 pm. I'm off to yoga.
It's pancake day again. Two huge bags of pancake mix have been mixed and measured and are now sitting in bowls waiting to be cooked. My kitchen is now white, having been covered from top to bottom in sticky, wet pancake mix. Richard even has it all over his face. Soon I won't be able to find the dog. She'll be covered in it too.
It's 5:30 pm. I'm off to yoga.
Puzzling Puzzles
An email arrived from our niece-in-law in Vermont. It read,
"Something special is on it's way to you. The record is 36 hours."
Attached was a picture of Richard's brother, Bob, sitting at a table with something spread out in front of him but I couldn't tell what.
A couple of days later a package arrived in the mail. A jigsaw puzzle of Norristown, Pennsylvania where Richard and Bob had grown up. It's a topographical map with lots of colors and lines. Thank God for the Schuykill River running through the middle of it or we wouldn't have a chance.
I emailed back. "Puzzle's here. Game on."
Richard went to work looking for the edges then he sorted all 440 pieces by color. I love jigsaw puzzles. I grew up in a home where we were never without a puzzle on a card table in the living room. I'd sit for hours. The more difficult the better. I won't stop until it was finished. I went to work. Thirty six hours, piece of cake.
Inch by inch the border came together. Words and landmarks fell into place and waited for me to find their spot. Blue river ran across the map grounding the puzzle. Richard colorized the pieces over and over again as I moved them around, picking them up, putting them back.
"Where is Hickorytown?" I asked. I'd put the words together put didn't know where to place them.
"I don't know." Richard answered.
"You grew up here. I came from Ohio. Why don't you know?" Richard just came back from a trip home. It should be fresh in his mind. I kept my nose to the grindstone. The clock was ticking.
More than once I accused the Vermonters of keeping a few pieces just to torment us a little bit. I knew they hadn't but it fun to pick on them. Finally Richard and I celebrated as I tapped the last piece into place.
I'd been tracking our time. Ten hours. I blew the record out of the park. Taking a picture of the completed puzzle as evidence, I quickly emailed it to the family. Excitedly they turned over the record to us. Giving each other a high five, we happily accepted.
Sadly, we stared at the puzzle not wanting to take it apart. It was a work of art, consuming every waking hour. We'd won the contest! Now what were we going to do with our time?
"Something special is on it's way to you. The record is 36 hours."
Attached was a picture of Richard's brother, Bob, sitting at a table with something spread out in front of him but I couldn't tell what.
A couple of days later a package arrived in the mail. A jigsaw puzzle of Norristown, Pennsylvania where Richard and Bob had grown up. It's a topographical map with lots of colors and lines. Thank God for the Schuykill River running through the middle of it or we wouldn't have a chance.
I emailed back. "Puzzle's here. Game on."
Richard went to work looking for the edges then he sorted all 440 pieces by color. I love jigsaw puzzles. I grew up in a home where we were never without a puzzle on a card table in the living room. I'd sit for hours. The more difficult the better. I won't stop until it was finished. I went to work. Thirty six hours, piece of cake.
Inch by inch the border came together. Words and landmarks fell into place and waited for me to find their spot. Blue river ran across the map grounding the puzzle. Richard colorized the pieces over and over again as I moved them around, picking them up, putting them back.
"Where is Hickorytown?" I asked. I'd put the words together put didn't know where to place them.
"I don't know." Richard answered.
"You grew up here. I came from Ohio. Why don't you know?" Richard just came back from a trip home. It should be fresh in his mind. I kept my nose to the grindstone. The clock was ticking.
More than once I accused the Vermonters of keeping a few pieces just to torment us a little bit. I knew they hadn't but it fun to pick on them. Finally Richard and I celebrated as I tapped the last piece into place.
I'd been tracking our time. Ten hours. I blew the record out of the park. Taking a picture of the completed puzzle as evidence, I quickly emailed it to the family. Excitedly they turned over the record to us. Giving each other a high five, we happily accepted.
Sadly, we stared at the puzzle not wanting to take it apart. It was a work of art, consuming every waking hour. We'd won the contest! Now what were we going to do with our time?
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Heaven Too!
The box arrived from the cabin finally. Filled with tasty treats it made my mouth water all over again. Richard put the contents in the freezer.
"It'll keep us from eating it all at once," he told me.
"Why would we want to do that?" I asked.
We sat down to dinner with our piece of salmon and large salad. This is the diet dinner that allowed us each to lose 25 pounds over the past few months. We'd had this so often we were finally starting to enjoy eating all the bunny food.
"So what's for dessert?" Richard said as he finished the last bit of lettuce on his plate.
Without waiting for an answer he got a shoo fly cake from the freezer and warmed it up in the microwave. He set it in front of me with a knife. I cut it in half. I took a bite from my half and savored every last crumb. Richard did the same with his. It was heaven.
The next day at lunch, we ate our salad and then enjoyed a loaf of applesauce cake. At dinner we wolfed down the pumpkin bread. We gave away one loaf of shoo fly cake to a neighbor. One less for us to eat. We've been following this same routine for several days now. There are still several delicious cakes in the freezer but at this rate, heaven is not going to last much longer. Fortunately I know the phone number of the cabin where these goodies are made. I'll just call and order some more. Until I get back on the scale, that is.
"It'll keep us from eating it all at once," he told me.
"Why would we want to do that?" I asked.
We sat down to dinner with our piece of salmon and large salad. This is the diet dinner that allowed us each to lose 25 pounds over the past few months. We'd had this so often we were finally starting to enjoy eating all the bunny food.
"So what's for dessert?" Richard said as he finished the last bit of lettuce on his plate.
Without waiting for an answer he got a shoo fly cake from the freezer and warmed it up in the microwave. He set it in front of me with a knife. I cut it in half. I took a bite from my half and savored every last crumb. Richard did the same with his. It was heaven.
The next day at lunch, we ate our salad and then enjoyed a loaf of applesauce cake. At dinner we wolfed down the pumpkin bread. We gave away one loaf of shoo fly cake to a neighbor. One less for us to eat. We've been following this same routine for several days now. There are still several delicious cakes in the freezer but at this rate, heaven is not going to last much longer. Fortunately I know the phone number of the cabin where these goodies are made. I'll just call and order some more. Until I get back on the scale, that is.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Heaven
Richard went to Philadelphia to visit the grandkids. Five days of peace and quiet, writing, sleeping in, going out to eat, hanging with friends. Heaven.
On Sunday, I made the trek to the airport to pick him up. I was anxious to see him but also sad my single life was over. Five days seemed to have passed in a nano second. There were still plenty of things I wanted to do but had simply run out of time.
"I brought you some shoo fly cake," he said after he kissed me hello.
"Yum. When can we eat it?" I asked.
Shoo fly cake is a moist gooey version of the famous pie but without a crust. The ladies at The Cabin Shop at the Washington Memorial Chapel at Valley Forge cook it up and wrap it up with a ribbon in small tin loaf pans. Richard's mother used to make it when she volunteered at the shop. It's been a family favorite for years.
"Do you want it before or after the soft pretzel?" Richard laughed.
"Before." I love shoo fly cake even though a soft pretzel from Philadelphia is a very close second.
The 45 minute drive home seemed agonizingly long. Once I finally pulled in the garage, we raced into the kitchen, ripped open the pretty package and devoured the cake. Heaven.
The next night was baseball night, the Rays versus the Rangers. My mouth watered for the soft pretzel, the perfect baseball snack. I popped two of them into the microwave for a few seconds. Richard and I settled in on the sofa with our pretzels. I took a bite, chewed it slowly, tasted it's richness. Heaven.
We've eaten all the Philly food that fit in the carry-on suitcase. We're anxiously awaiting another delivery from the UPS man. Those ladies at the cabin are sending us a large box filled with shoo fly cake, banana bread and applesauce cake. And when it arrives... Heaven.
On Sunday, I made the trek to the airport to pick him up. I was anxious to see him but also sad my single life was over. Five days seemed to have passed in a nano second. There were still plenty of things I wanted to do but had simply run out of time.
"I brought you some shoo fly cake," he said after he kissed me hello.
"Yum. When can we eat it?" I asked.
Shoo fly cake is a moist gooey version of the famous pie but without a crust. The ladies at The Cabin Shop at the Washington Memorial Chapel at Valley Forge cook it up and wrap it up with a ribbon in small tin loaf pans. Richard's mother used to make it when she volunteered at the shop. It's been a family favorite for years.
"Do you want it before or after the soft pretzel?" Richard laughed.
"Before." I love shoo fly cake even though a soft pretzel from Philadelphia is a very close second.
The 45 minute drive home seemed agonizingly long. Once I finally pulled in the garage, we raced into the kitchen, ripped open the pretty package and devoured the cake. Heaven.
The next night was baseball night, the Rays versus the Rangers. My mouth watered for the soft pretzel, the perfect baseball snack. I popped two of them into the microwave for a few seconds. Richard and I settled in on the sofa with our pretzels. I took a bite, chewed it slowly, tasted it's richness. Heaven.
We've eaten all the Philly food that fit in the carry-on suitcase. We're anxiously awaiting another delivery from the UPS man. Those ladies at the cabin are sending us a large box filled with shoo fly cake, banana bread and applesauce cake. And when it arrives... Heaven.
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