The Zen of Cooking Week Two - 60 minutes later

Progress . . .

The Zen of Cooking Week Two

I so enjoyed spending last Sunday in the kitchen that I'd planned on doing it again today. And I am. But I got a late start and am not quite "in the zone" today. Like, I know that butter has to sit out at room temp for a bit to soften before you bake with it. Why was mine still in the fridge until five minutes ago? And I still have two cupcakes left from last Sunday (was three until about ten minutes ago), so should I even be baking more? (Stupid question, I know!)

So for now, cupcakes are in a holding pattern. Can you guess which ones I decided to make?

Six Word Saturday

It's Sunday. Am I too late?

I saw this "Six Word Saturday" thing a week or two ago, then forgot all about it. Thanks to The Fragrant Muse and Serenity Now, I found it again today. (even though it's already Sunday.)

Decisions, Decisions

Your help please!

Last Sunday I baked - cupcakes and muffins. I want to experiment some more this weekend, but can't decide which cupcake recipe to try. Which would you choose?

Cream Soda Toffee Cupcakes with Brown Butter Frosting. (Recipe here.)

White Chocolate Mud Cake with Whipped White Chocolate Ganache

Choc Chip Cherry Cake with Milk Chocolate Ganache

Vegan, gluten-free Red Velvet Cupcakes (although I don't have the ingredients for the vegan vanilla frosting, so would have to make something else)

I also found some gorgeous rhubarb at the grocery store, so I'll be making a rhubarb apple crisp too. Mmmm . . . Don't forget - the door is open!

"This is a murder investigation."

Let me start by saying that I don't watch a lot of TV. I will admit, though, that I am a fan of a few cop shows. I have my favorites, and they're my favorites for different reasons. I take them all with a grain of salt, and realize that they are for entertainment and not necessarily accurate portrayals of real police work.

NCIS is one I like. I watch mostly reruns because I can find them on at almost any time, but I'm not up to date with current season stuff. I like NCIS because of the characters. They are all so different, but they mesh so well. The Geek, McGee, is just endearing. Ziva is one tough chick, with a soft side too, though she doesn't show it often. Tony is . . . well . . . Tony. Abby is just a freakin' genius. But I don't believe for a minute that there is any one forensics expert that is an expert in fingerprints, and ballistics, and DNA, AND computer forensics, AND . . . you get the point. And is there anyone cooler or smoother than Gibbs? Anywhere? And when, out of the blue, he flashes that smile, well, he is human after all.

I watch CSI from time to time, also reruns. I mostly watch the original, set in Las Vegas, and some of the Miami version. But that's one show that it's hard for me not to nit-pick. Perhaps I just don't have accurate information, but I'm not buying that crime scene investigators all carry guns and make arrests. They certainly don't where I live. And do they really interview suspects? That's what the cops are for. My favorite CSI character is Grissom. A loner, very different from everyone else, but not at all ashamed or embarrassed by it. Then there's Horatio on CSI Miami. Puh-leez. What kind of a lunatic would always wear a jacket, and wear all black at that, in the heat of Miami? And never sweat? And every show ends the same - Horatio is alone with his thoughts, looking ever so concerned and humble, and we are supposed to be touched to the heart by it all. Puke.

My favorite thing to hate, though, about all the CSI shows (and probably some other cop shows, but this one in particular), is how they are the be-all-and-end-all of important people on a mission and everyone better do what they say and give them what they want because "this is a homicide investigation."

CSI: "Doctor, We're going to need her medical records."

Trauma Room Doctor: "You know I can't give you those. They're confidential."

CSI: "Look, this is a homicide investigation. That woman is dead, so I think the need for confidentiality is moot."

Or . . .

CSI: "The cook said he saw you and the dead guy arguing during the lunch rush."

Waitress: "Oh no, we never argued. We got along real well."

CSI: "Let me make something clear for you. This is a homicide investigation. If you're lying to me, even a little bit, I'm going to come down on you like a load of bricks."

OR . . .

CSI: "We're gonna need to talk to your employees."

Drive-In Manager: (groans) "Oh, come on, please. Is that really necessary?"

CSI: "It's a homicide investigation. We could just call the health inspector and see how many code violations he has festering in that concession stand."

Drive-In Manager: "Geez, fine, knock yourselves out."

Sometimes I miss a few seconds of the show because my eyeballs have rolled so far into the back of my head that it takes a second for them to roll back around again. And yet I keep watching. So tell me, who's the lunatic now?

Fear: I'm Not Having It Anymore

Some days back, I posted in my 10 Cose di Me that I had come home from work one Friday evening when my husband was out of town and caught someone in my house. That was a few years ago, but I still remember it very well.

When I get home in the evenings, I always pull my car into the garage, close the garage door behind me, and enter the house through a door leading in from the garage. At the time, we had two dogs. They could hear the garage door go up and were always waiting, tails wagging, just inside the door for me. When I came in that day, the dogs weren't right there, although that didn't dawn on me right away. I'd set my things down on the dining room table and turned to walk towards the kitchen, when I caught some movement near the front door out of the corner of my eye.

It's funny how fast things happen. I was immediately struck with terror, and then just a fraction of a second later, I was relieved because I knew who the person was. It was our neighbor's son, about 19 or 20 years old at the time. His parents were out of town too and he was taking care of their house for them. He was nervous; he was maybe even more scared than I was. He stammered and gave me some story, a very shaky story, about leaving his phone in the house when he'd been over earlier in the afternoon visiting with my daughter, who had since left to spend the night at a friend's house. He had come back to look for it. He apologized and made his way out the door.

I just stood there for a minute, my mind racing, trying to sort everything out. How had he gotten in? He had obviously been back near the bedrooms; what had he been doing? Of course the dogs weren't barking - he knew their names, and if he'd really been over earlier in the afternoon, then he was no stranger to them either. Then there was a knock at the door and it was him again. Apparently, he had not had his phone in his hand when he'd left the first time. I couldn't tell you; I had not been paying that much attention. He said he thought he remembered now where it was, he thought he'd left it in the bathroom. He went to the bathroom to retrieve it, and he left again, still very nervous and a little panicked. I locked the door behind him.

And then I started getting mad. At myself.

When I first realized that someone was in the house, but then realized that I knew who it was, it was almost like it was a relief, and I'd let my guard down. I even said, "Oh, it's you." Which translated to, "Oh, it's you. Well, then I guess it's okay. Oh, and you forgot something the first time? Well come on in again." WTF? I know better than that! He still had no business being in my house. I should have said, yelled, "WTF are you doing in my house? You left your phone? Bullshit! Get TF out of my house NOW!" But, like I said, things happened very quickly, and that's not what I did.

I called the police, my hubby talked to his dad when they all got home, and the matter was handled. But I still saw him around, and he made me very uncomfortable. I'm not sure I was afraid of him, but I avoided him.

Sometimes if we were outside chatting with his parents, he'd show up and hang out, with what I swear was a smirk on his face, because he knew that it bugged me. If I was out in my backyard, and saw him out in his parents' yard, I'd immediately go into the house. If I wanted to go out on to the patio, I'd look out the back door first and if he was around, I'd stay inside. I had given him control.

Finally something clicked and I got mad again. Why was I acting like I was afraid of him? He should be embarrassed, and he should be afraid of me! And that was the end of that.

I realized then, too, that I'd done the same thing with a couple people at work. A couple of people made me uncomfortable, and if I saw them coming towards me down a hallway, I'd turn and go another way, or do whatever I needed to do to avoid them.

Not anymore. I look people in the eye and I'm not intimidated. Sometimes I even want to say, "Bring it!" It's really kind of liberating! So there's one more "cose di me."

Wishcasting Wednesday

How do you wish to stretch?

That's Jamie's question to you and to me this week.

And I find no need to look very deep, or to get all symbolic or metaphorical. It's pretty straightforward. I just need to stretch. I just need to move. I just need to bend and to fold and to extend. Nothing complicated here. Just need to go to the mat. No more excuses - "I have a stomach ache," or "I have a headache." (Downward facing dog is a bitch when your head is pounding.) So I'll find some poses to do.

a scrapbook page I did of a yoga retreat I attended

Please be sure to visit Jamie's blog to visit other Wishcasters.

Namaste,