August 11

As I stated the other day, the girl and I have been spending a lot of time together. Mostly on the Veranda doing absolutely nothing.

Nothing appeals to me more than sitting on a Veranda doing, well, nothing. (Except maybe a butler to bring me some tea and scones)

Yesterday, the chips were at a youth function, so Superman and I were outside on the back deck other Veranda snoozing waiting for our tea and scones, when all of a sudden Gargantuan’s older and larger brother, Humongous, decided to pay me a visit.

He had heard that I had put a hit out on his brother and was all What’s up with that, and He didn’t do anything to you, and You better leave my family alone.

So I repaid his visit with ear piercing screams and orders to Superman to “kill it…kill IT…KILL IT!!!

Superman doesn’t move so fast when he is coming out of a sun induced stupor.

While Superman stumbled into the house to retrieve the green killing m machine, Humongous landed a foot away from me.

Intimidation gets me every time.

I didn’t move, except to call to Superman in my most urgent of voices to HURRY UP ALREADY!

Finally said nasty flew away, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

It was at that time that I decided that maybe sitting out on the back deck Veranda doing nothing, waiting for tea and scones, isn’t all that it is cracked up to be.

Since I didn’t have my camera out there with me, I asked Google to find an appropriate image.

This is the closest image that I Google could find. Only Humongous was much, much bigger with white spots on it’s wings.

So as not to leave you terrorized, I will offer you with this latest photo of the girl.

That’s much better than Gargantuan’s older brother any day of the week.

August 10

In 1968, these two young folks got married.

And today, in 2008, they have been married 40 years. Happy Anniversary, mom and dad.

It is so wonderful to see you both so happy and so much in love.

It has been amazingly gorgeous this past week, here in Pothole, Ohio. The girl and I have been doing a whole lot of sitting out on the Veranda. Doing nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

August 9

I am not a fan of bugs. As a matter of fact I abhor bugs. I don’t care if they are tiny flies, gnats, bees or even the beneficial lady bug.

I. can. not. stand. bugs.

Spiders are the worst.

Thursday evening, after the chips were in bed, I began to prepare for my evening of relaxation.

Move laundry.

Glass of water.

Chocolate.

Remote.

Slip into movie induced coma.

As I was moving the folded laundry, the most horrendous buzzing occurred. I jumped back into my little spot and froze.

It was huge, and noisy. blech!

It flew around the room, thankfully never close to me, and it found its way into the lamp. I relaxed just a bit, and picked up the remote.

Forget the water and chocolate, forget television induced coma. I wasn’t moving. I wasn’t relaxing. I was barely watching my movie. The bug had me cornered, ’cause I’m a sissy and don’t like to even get near bugs.

Gargantuan bug had been quiet for well over an hour so I assumed that it had died from the heat of the light bulb, so I relaxed just a smidgen more.

Superman finally came home from work, and we went to bed.

Friday morning, found me blissfully forgetting all about Gargantuan. I should have known better.

He was still alive.

Now my friend Applie loves bugs. She photographs them. She captures them, kills them, and pins them.

She also delights in torturing me with the pictures of them.

So Applie, I wanted to show you how normal people kill bugs.

They use a fly swatter, and yell DIE! DIE! DIE! as they flail away.

How do you kill them?

Do you swat them?

Do you spray them?

Do you make your man do it for you?

August 7

I really do not like most canned vegetables. Green beans, baked beans are really the only exceptions.

Oh, I eat vegetables. I love vegetables, it is just the canned variety that I turn my nose up to.

One canned veggie that just makes me cringe is creamed corn. I know tens of people that swear by creamed corn. They make corn bread, corn muffins, corn pudding, hush puppies, chowders, and corn casseroles with their creamed corn.

I just don’t see the attraction.

I love corn casserole, but ewwwwwww! creamed corn!

I finally found a wonderful buttery, corn casserole that not only is out of this world good, but it also doesn’t use creamed corn.

Let me tell you all about it.

It is the simplest of recipes, using the simplest of ingredients. Frozen corn, cheddar cheese, milk, butter eggs and butter crackers.

First, melt half the butter in your microwave.

Whisk in eggs, cheese, milk, and half the amount of crackers…crushed. Stir in the corn. Don’t forget to salt it. I forget almost every. single. time.

Pour into a casserole dish.

Now you can take the other half of the crackers, get out a bowl, crush them up, toss them with the other half of the melted butter and put it on top of the casserole.

Or you can do what I do…the lazy bakers way.

Take the other half of your crackers and crush them directly on top of the casserole.

Then drizzle the butter on top of that.

Bake and eat, and eat, and eat, and eat.

Make some. You’ll be very glad you did.

Recipe is on the side bar.

August 5

Have you ever had one of those days?

You know, those days that the Midas touch has left you and the Steve Urkel one has replaced it.

The day that everything you touch goes wrong, breaks, flops, or plain old doesn’t work anymore.

Yesterday was that day for me.

My 15 minute oil change lasted almost an hour.

I tried to make some home made bread.

It was utter disaster.

The heating pad I use to raise my bread dough won’t work if it isn’t turned on, no matter how long you let it sit there.

Neither will the rice cooker for that matter.

You forget laundry on the line and it rains.

And no matter how much rum you put in your Black and White Banana Loaf, that Ashlee from A Year in the Kitchen picked for TWD, it still won’t make it taste any better.

It smelled heavenly while it was baking, and I had to restrain myself to not cut into it till it was cooled somewhat.

One would think that a bread recipe that called for bananas, nutmeg, rum, and chocolate would be fabulous, but it wasn’t.

All the flavors combined just made it a ‘muddy’ mess, and it really had no distinct flavor at all.

I was so sad. So disappointed. Even the boy only ate one bite and refused anymore.

I sure hope that the other TWD bakers had a much better time of it than I did.

At least I still have the Rum.

August 4

On my street there are 15 houses.

10 of them are middle class Victorian homes, and the other 5 are 1940-50’s ranch’s.

All of the houses are well kept except one.

It is a blight on the neighborhood, and anyone who has come to my house knows exactly which house I am talking about.

Across the street and one over is a middle class Victorian duplex. It has seen better days. I have always done my best to crop it out of my pictures or not even come close to photographing it because ….Hello! blight!

There have been many colorful tenants in that house.

“Psycho” ~~ a man who had multiple personalities. I finally called the police on him when he was in the lawn with a knife shouting mad-man ramblings. He skeered me, and I’m fearless!

There was also ‘tat-man’~~ he had tons of tattoos.

“Yeller and Bratty boy” moved in after “Psycho” moved out.

After that there was plain old Gloria. I knew her name. You couldn’t miss it. Her daughter screamed it every time she came over.

But for the last 2½ years that house has stood empty, quietly sagging a little more every year.

Last summer, a on-line auction sign appeared in the front yard.

The house sold for a whole $900.

It should have been condemned.

I was hoping against hope, that the new owners would bulldoze it and start over.

This year, I had to call the health department twice because the new owners hadn’t bothered to contract with anyone to mow the yard, and while 3 foot tall waving grass looks great to Little House on the Prairie, it doesn’t look good to Little House on Victorian Lane.

About a week after the city came and weed whacked the entire yard, men in suits began to show up in expensive cars, carrying leather note pads and cameras.

It is amazing what a new, solid, straight roof line will do to the look of a house. She doesn’t look sad anymore.

I pray that the men in suits will also see fit to side the poor dear.

She deserves it, and so do the rest of us here on Victorian Lane.

August 1

It’s Friday, and I am nosy…

But first the winner of the contest yesterday.

To get an accurate count, I took the names in order, (minus mine, and minus double postings) and found that there were 39 contestants.

I plugged the numbers into the random number generator and

Congratulations Jen S, you have won. Email me your address and I will ship it to you today.

Now for the question.

Finish this sentence.

In 5 years, I expect to be…

I don’t generally have goals except to get out of bed in the morning and remember where I put my glasses.

I imagine that in 5 years I will still be here in Pothole, doing what I am doing now, only I will be older, and wiser, and maybe have a new camera with a couple wicked lens’s.