G-g-g-g-ghost!
Jack: Hi.
Jill: Thank God you’re home! Jack, we have to do something! There’s a ghost in the house.
Jack: Huh?
Jill: We have to get out of here! While you were gone a ghost came along and messed with my hair.
Jack: Come on, Jill. There’s no such thing as ghosts.
Jill: Of course there’s a ghost. You don’t think I’d do this to my own hair, do you?
Jack: Um…..
Jill: Well? How do you explain it?
Jack: PMS?
saturday photo scavenger hunt
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Today’s theme is bad hair
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Previously in Jack and Jill Jill Alone in the House
Suzie’s House 70: Ratatouille
In previous episodes of Suzie’s House Drew decided to take on the investigation into the Smash Master by himself. Refusing to be cut out of the action, Suzie, Vin, and Miranda formed a vigilante group. Following their own leads, and making their own alliances, they try to find the men with the red hair without Drew knowing.
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.
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Drew clattered some pots and pans together a few times, taking them out of the cupboard then putting them right back. He had a cast iron skillet in one hand, turned upside down so he could read the imprinted circle on the back, and a copper-bottom saucepan in the other when Suzie walked in.
“Need any help?” She gently removed the saucepan from his hands.
He managed to keep his face bland, though it was hard. Suzie was so predictable. All he needed to do to lure her away from the others was go into her kitchen and look incompetent. Or rather, sound incompetent.
“Um… I thought I’d make some Ratatouille.”
“You know how to make Ratatouille?” Suzie’s eyebrows went arching up.
“No, but I think I’d like some.” Drew worked to look like the woe begun, bumbling man about the kitchen.
“If you really, honestly want some, I’ll make it tomorrow when it’s my turn to cook. I have some lasagna in the freezer if you’d like.”
“No, no no. I don’t want to put you to any extra work.” He set the pan on the stove, letting his hand linger a second as if reluctant to let it go.
“I don’t mind. I’d much rather do it that way than…” She let her words trail off in embarrassment.
“Than to have to clean up the mess I’m likely to make?”
“I didn’t say that.”
She didn’t have to. Weeks ago he noticed her distress at what she often found in the kitchen. She grumbled under her breath as she re-arranged the cupboards to her own special order and tossed out leftovers he would have saved. She jumped in to help a little too eagerly, went to too much effort to provide quick and easy cooking options for all of them. She didn’t seem to be aware that unlike Vin or – God help him – Miranda, Drew actually did know how to cook.
He wandered over to the refrigerator. “I don’t need any help. Except maybe a recipe. Do you think you could bring the recipe file in from your office for a minute?”
“THE recipe file? The only recipe file I know about is MY recipe file. I promise you, ratatouille is not in it.” Her lips pursed together and her chin came up. He admired the fire in her eyes as he opened the refrigerator.
“What’s so special about your recipe file anyway?”
“It belonged to my grandmother. There are recipes in that file that are over a hundred years old.”
“I didn’t know there were recipes that far back.” He pulled out some mushrooms, a couple of bell peppers, and a clove of garlic.
“There were in my family,” Suzie said with pride.
Drew had no idea if there were any in his own family. He’d taught himself. He put the vegetables on a cutting board he already had out.
Suzie sighed. She shoulders went limp. “I guess I can trust you. Just don’t tell Miranda I let you look in my recipe file.”
“Why not?” He sliced up the vegetables.
“We got into a fight one day. About Rob, actually. She said he was trying to steal me away from her, keeping her from seeing me. Looking back, I think she was right, but at the time, I wouldn’t believe it. She got mad when I wouldn’t listen and pitched the recipe file into the toilet.”
“Huh!” Drew slapped his hand over his mouth. He hadn’t meant to laugh out loud.
“There’s nothing funny about it.”
“No. Of course not. But I could easily see Miranda doing it.”
“That’s the least she’s capable of.” Suzie rolled her eyes heavenward. “Anyway, I’ll let you borrow a recipe if you really want, but I honestly don’t have ratatouille.” She turned, as if about to leave.
“No hurry,” he said quickly, moving around the table to intercept her. “I’d love to look through it some other time, but not right now. Would you mind putting some water on to boil for me?”
She looked as undecided as a deer in the headlights. “All right,” she said reluctantly.
“You’ve known Miranda a long time.” He turned on both burners.
“Just about my whole life.” She put the pot on a burner without having to be told which to use, then settled against the counter a couple of feet away.
Someday they would cook together, a whole meal, not just a little help here and there. He’d like to do it with a whole lot less space between them. While Suzie stared into the distance and talked, he added rice pilaf to the saucepan, and took out some prime cuts of steak and cooked them up with the vegetables and some sherry he’d set out.
“I’m not sure why Miranda and I have been friends so long. I don’t even like her part of the time.”
“All friends have moments when they’d rather not be together.” He poured some of the sherry, a quality bottle, into wine glasses; one for each of them.
“Maybe.” She took her glass with less than half her attention on it. “I think at first I was friendly to her because I felt bad for her. I’m not sure – because I never actually saw anything and she never said – but I think she might have been abused, and not just by one or another of her mother’s boyfriends.”
Drew paused with his spatula hanging over the skillet. “That’s a serious accusation.”
“I know.” Suzie nodded, then took a sip. The elegance of a wine glass full of red-amber liquid contrasted with her disheveled ponytail and blouse covered in a miniature-flower print. He liked it. Oblivious to his attention, she talked on. “But she has these scars inside where no one can see that make me think…” Suzie shook her head. “I’m probably wrong.”
“She’s not too badly messed up. She’s fun to go bar hopping with.”
Suzie winced. “You know what that was about. It’s not like I normally go bar hopping with her now a days.”
“Didn’t you go bar hopping with her yesterday? You and Miranda and Vin?”
Suzie sucked in her lower lip.
“Or were you, perhaps, chasing after Christina, who took off in Cindy’s red Corvette right before the three of you shot out of the driveway in your borrowed car.”
Suzie swallowed hard.
Drew let silence hang over her head while he arranged the rice, meat, and a salad he’d made earlier on each plate. When he made eye contact, she looked ready to spill.
“I expect you to inform me of anything pertinent you happen to learn that way.”
Her jaw snapped shut. He wouldn’t be getting anything out of her right now. But later. Maybe. He handed her a plate.
“Would you mind taking this to the dining room for me?”
“Hey, this isn’t Ratatouille.” Suzie looked down at the plates he’d handed her.
“I know.” Drew turned away quickly so she wouldn’t see him smile.
Thursday Thirteen #30: Fimo Clay Beads
My daughter and I made a bunch of beads out of Fimo clay. Can you guess which ones I did, and which ones she did?
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Buck Naked Politics
Allison
SandyCarlson
The Romance Roundtable
Savannah Chase
Debora Dennis
Jennifer McKenzie
Susan Helene Gottfried
Tempest Knight
Renee
Paige Tyler
Tink
Nina Pierce
Di
Tamy ~ 3 Sides of Crazy
Denise
Robin
On a Limb with Claudia
Nicole Austin
Ann Bruce
Wylie
Cindy Lietz Polymer Clay Tutor
By George! The Duke of Clarence Makes Himself At Home
As we saw last week, Prince William sailed the seven seas, just the way George III liked it, up until something better came along. Any guesses what?
The change, as was often the case with these boys, was a lady. Sailor Billy, or the Duke of Clarence, as he was now officially known, had met the woman of his dreams. Her name was Dorothea Jordan. She was a famous comic actress of the London stage. This was good because she would need a sense of humor for her relationship with The Duke.
She was three years younger than Sailor Billy and already had four children. By two different men. Neither of whom she was married to. But that was the sort of technicality that Sailor Billy refused to be bothered by. How unbothered was he? The Duke and Dorothea went on to have ten kids of their own, five boys and five girls.
For a number of reasons the Admiralty felt that Billy should leave off being a sailor. The Navy was finally beginning to acknowledge that the harsh disciplines that the Navy was infamous for were counter productive. There had already been some well-publicized mutinies over the matter and public opinion came down firmly on the side of the “tars”, as the common sailors were known. Sailor Billy had a well-earned reputation as a particularly harsh captain. Even his brother officers were afraid of him. Now that he was officially a Duke, the Navy saw a way to gracefully get rid of him.
His taste for the lash was not the only reason the navy wanted him out of the way. As a Duke, he now had the right to speak his mind in the House of Lords. He did so without restraint. In 1793 he made a series of speeches in defense of the slave trade. This was very hot button issue in England at the time. It was not something the Royal Family wanted to be associated with. Nor was the Navy keen to have its more prominent officers make pro-slavery speeches.
At one point The Duke felt obliged to apologize to William Wilberforce, an MP who would become famous on both sides of the Atlantic as an abolitionist. The Prince shrugged off his brother’s speeches with the remark that William was “as good natured a fellow as existed; he meant no harm; but he paid not the smallest regard to the truth.”
While these brothers were being allowed to try their hand at military glory, what of the youngest brother who could not? Prince Augustus was a sensitive and artistic fellow. He left for Germany with his older brothers Ernest and Adolphus to do his bit for the family tradition of staying out of England. Like his brothers, he studied for an eventual stint in the army. But when he came of age, His health was considered so precarious that it was decided by dad that he should stay out.
Of course, if he was too un-well to serve in the army, he was too un-well to return to England. Europe had all sorts of wonderful spas that a boy of Augustus’s delicate condition could retire to. First to Switzerland Augustus traveled. Eventually he settled in Rome. Dad told him that this was done for his health. Augustus wasn’t fooled for a minute. Like his brothers, he knew he had been banished from England. Like his brothers, he was bitterly resentful toward his father because of it.
And, like his brothers, he was going to do something to let dad know how he felt.
This blog was written by Mr. Al
They Grow Up So Fast
This is “Book Cover Lad.” He named himself last fall when I was trying to get him to go to school and all he wanted to do was horse around with the mandatory book cover which he never used even once.
At that point he was still shorter than me, could barely pick me up, and spent more time at home than off with his friends.
Since then he has learned to skateboard, which he insists is called skating. Back when I did it way too many years ago it was called boarding. He’s gotten himself deeper into trouble than I’d expected him to, learned swearwords I never use, grown two inches taller than me, and runs with boys who are always very polite to me, but probably scare the ladies down at the nursing home out of their Depends.
This weekend Mr. Al took the family to the movies. We don’t do this often; once, maybe twice a year. We went to see Ironman. Book Cover Lad claimed he really, really wanted to see it, but apparently he didn’t want to see it badly enough to do so with his family. He elected to hang out with his friends at a friend’s house instead.
Tell me this is normal, cause frankly this teenager business has me scared.
Tagged and Awarded
I’ve been getting tagged like crazy lately. Since Alice’s Restaurant runs on a schedule, I’m a little limited in when I can do memes. I appreciate everyone’s patience while I waited for a slot to open up.
I Love You This Much Award
How to Lay Floor Tile Part 1
This is the first time I’ve ever laid floor tile. I was quite nervous about it, and put the job off for about five months. I like the end results, but maybe this blog should be called how NOT to lay floor tile.Also, because I was the one doing the work and taking the pictures, I didn’t get any nice shots of the actual process. Something about not wanting to wreck my camera held me back.
Anyway, here’s what I did.
I read a bunch of books. I was going to list them all here, but have already packed them all away and can’t remember the titles.
Apparently what you are supposed to do is lay down a level, strong sub-floor. The books go into some detail about this. I didn’t because the surface I was working with was a level concrete.
I decided to use a decorative boarder rather than trust my ability to cut tile just right. That turned out to be a good decision for other reasons, too. I’ll say more about that next week.To get the pieces for the decorative boarder I went out to the back stoop and flung around a few tiles. They broke fairly nicely, but later I found it was possible to get a similar effect by abusing a tile cutter, and the tile cutter didn’t cause chipping.
Like a good cook, I laid out all the things I would need and double checked my list:
* Tile
* Mortar
* Water
* A bucket to mix the mortar in
* A trowel to mix and lay the mortar
* Another to smooth out then make the little ridges in the mortar
* Little blue thingies to keep the tile separated just right. (They looked so cute in the store I had to get them.)
* Grout
* Sponge
* Tile cutter
I’m wishing I had gone with the latex. It’s supposed to make the grout stronger. Again, I’ll tell you more about that later.
I laid the tile out in a rough pattern first to see how it would look. In the process I discovered the room is not perfectly square. I also discovered a decorative boarder doesn’t necessarily take care of the problem.
Afraid it would set me back another 6 months if I thought about it, I went ahead and mixed up the mortar.
How to Lay Floor Tile, Part 1
How to Lay Floor Tile Part 2: Mortar
How to Lay Floor Tile Part 3: Tilus Interuptus
Jill Alone in the House
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saturday photo scavenger hunt
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Today’s theme is yourself
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Previously in Jack and Jill There Was an Old Woman Who Lived In a Shoe
I am very, very pleased to accept an award from Tammy
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Suzie’s House 69: So Lonely
Ben was so lonely he could die. Dying would be better than living with his father.
He knew his mother hadn’t sent him away as punishment, but couldn’t help thinking there must be something wrong with him – some flaw that made it so no one wanted him around. All that time being good, and Mom still sent him away.
He was tapping his pencil on his desk in English class, and thinking about how much he wanted to go home but was going to have to walk to his dad’s after school instead. Mrs.D paused in the middle of the thing she did where she walked around the classroom and talked about English stuff. She grabbed the pencil right out of his hand, snapped it in half, and dropped the pieces on his desk.
It was his only pencil.
Now he wasn’t going to be able to do any of the assignments for the rest of the day, and he hadn’t even had lunch yet!
“Get out your rhyming couplets. You have until the end of class to finish them. Late assignments will be given no credit, so don’t be late.” Mrs. D sat at her desk. She just flopped down like one of those puppets from Pinocchio when the strings are cut.
Any other teacher he would have asked if he could borrow a pencil, or have more time so he could get a pencil, but not Mrs. D. She had it in for him even worse since Mom yelled at her, just like Mom said she would.
He wanted to go home so bad it made his eyes hurt.
He waited until Mrs. D was looking down, then leaned toward Nancy. “Can I borrow a pencil?”
Nancy was working on her second page. She’d probably get another A. Ben wouldn’t get an A even if he did everything perfect. She looked up through beautiful, blond hair. “What?”
He made a give-me gesture.
“Oh. Sure.” She started digging around in her binder. There were about a dozen pencils in there, but she’d only give him one that she didn’t mind loosing. That was all right with Ben, cause then he wouldn’t have to return it.
Mrs. D caught them right when Nancy handed him one of those black, mechanical pencils. It would have been perfect not just for today, but until he could make Dad get him some.
“Miss Weiler, what do you think you are doing?”
“Loaning a pencil to Ben?”
Mrs. D shook her head. “I don’t think so. Ben, you are disrupting class. Do it again, and I’ll send you to detention.”
Nancy hesitantly put the pencil away.
Ben looked at his paper. He only needed to do one more couplet and he was done. He even knew what couplet he’d write, if he had a pencil.
“Psst! Ben.” It was Gene, who sat in the seat behind him.
Gene was the biggest, meanest, strongest kid in the whole sixth grade. He once broke a boy’s arm just for looking at him wrong. That’s what some of the other kids said, anyway. Ben hadn’t seen it happen, and didn’t know the guy with the broken arm, though he’d seen him around and the arm had a cast on it. Ben wasn’t sure what to think.
“Psst! Ben.”
Ben twisted around. Gene was so big he made the desk look uncomfortable. He had big hands, long thick arms, and a little hair under his lip that wasn’t quite a beard but was more than Ben could grow. In his fingers, extended toward Ben, was one of those fancy Papermate mechanical pencils – the kind they sold in the student store for $5 each.
“Quick, before she sees.” Gene nodded toward Mrs. D.
Feeling like he was making a deal with the devil – that’s what Mrs. J would have called it – Ben took the pencil.
He had just enough time to finish the assignment. Everyone turned theirs in as they were leaving. He was so proud to be able to do it too.
Instead of putting his paper on the pile along with everyone else, she put it on the other side of her desk, right over the garbage can. Ben sighed. He knew what she would do. She’d done it before. He stopped in the doorway and looked back. Sure enough, she nudged his paper with her elbow. It dropped into the garbage can. She acted like she hadn’t noticed.
“Hey, Ben.”
Ben flinched. It was Gene. He might get punched now, or shoved. He’d never actually talked to Gene before and wasn’t sure what to do.
“About my pencil….”
Ben scrambled for it, so eager to hand it back he almost dropped his binder.
“…. Keep it.”
“Keep it?” Ben’s voice came out a squeak. Gene must want something. He wouldn’t just give away a really nice pencil like that, would he?
“Yeah. Every time you use it it’ll be like I’m thumbing my nose at Mrs. D.” Gene grinned, nodding slowly and knowingly. “It’s more than worth it to me.”
He slapped Ben on the shoulder, then headed down the hall the other way from where Ben was going next.
Thumbing his nose at Mrs. D? What happened when he was done thumbing his nose at her? All Ben knew was he better not lose that pencil.
Thursday Thirteen #29: Reasons to Read Suzie's House
For those of you who told me it was OK to blow my own horn, here goes:
1 – You never know what’s going to happen next, even when you think you do.
2 – To see Rob get his comeuppance.
3 – To see who is going to get shot next.
4 – To see someone get down and dirty.
5 – To find out why Miranda dumped Suzie’s recipe file in the toilet.
6 – Old Victorian houses are so cool.
7 – To see the claw – foot tub again.
8 – One of the characters is named after you.
9 – Drew is such a hunk.
10 – To find out what Suzie is about to do with a frying pan. And you thought she was scary with a knife.
11 – To see what Ben does about his lousy father, lousy teacher, and the scary redheaded men.
12 – Vin is such a stud muffin.
13 – You don’t really like Suzie at all, but you like Alice.
Interested? Come back tomorrow for the next installment of Suzie’s House.
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Robin
Jennifer McKenzie
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On a Limb with Claudia
I Must Confess
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By George! A Sailor’s Life for Prince William
When Mr. Al left off last week, William was behaving just as frustrated and rake like as the rest of his brothers.
The change in Sailor Billy’s life was that he had met the lady of his dreams. Sailor Billy, or the Duke of Clarence, as he was now known, had taken up with a well-known comic actress named Dorothea Jordan. Mrs. Jordan and Billy shared a number of traits. Not least was their attitude toward societal conventions. Miss Jordan had four children by the time she met the newly minted Duke. Four children by two men. Neither of which she bothered to marry. This bothered the Duke not a whit. Once the couple settled down to a reasonable facsimile of domestic bliss, Dorothea would produce ten more children.
It wasn’t long after Billy met Dorothea that he was prevailed upon to retire from the navy. His love life was not the reason, well, not the sole reason he was asked to leave. It seems that he had decided, now that he was a Duke and all, to make a few speeches in the House of Lords. Nothing fancy, just a few select words on the topics of the day. No one invited him to do so. No one wanted him to do so. But, as a member he had every right to make a speech during the allotted time.
One hobbyhorse of the Duke’s was Prime Minister Pitt. Duke Billy was not particularly Whigish, but in Pitt he saw one of the reasons he and his brothers had such a hard time getting their allowances increased while they were in the military. So Pitt got it with both barrels. That didn’t please dad. The Duke then made some extraordinary speeches in defense of the slave trade. This was a hot button issue on par with Catholic emancipation and American independence. Sentiment against the trade was growing and feelings on both sides ran high.
The view from St. James was that dukes should find better things to do with their time than take public stands on controversial issues. The Duke even felt obliged to apologize to William Wilberforce, an abolitionist MP who was gaining national prominence because of his opposition to the trade. The Prince shrugged off his brother’s speeches with the remark that William was “a good natured fellow as existed; he meant no harm; but he paid not the smallest regard to the truth.”
While most of the brothers were being given a shot at military glory; what of the brothers who were not? Prince Augustus, a sensitive and artistic fellow, left for Germany with his brothers Ernest and Adolfus. All three studied at German universities and when they were of age, prepared to enter the army. It was at that time that the decision was made to keep Augustus out of the army. Of course, if he was too unwell to serve, he was too unwell to come home.
Seeking more healthful climates, Augustus went south; first to Switzerland, and finally to Italy, where he settled in Rome. Augustus knew why he wasn’t allowed to come home. In what was becoming a familiar pattern for all the expat brothers Augustus wrote to The Prince. In October of 1792 he wrote that he longed to return home “after an absence of so many years. I have frequently wrote to his Majesty on this subject. The physicians have also informed the King it would be highly advantageous to my health. Not a line on the subject. Not a hint….perhaps a word thrown in by you on a favorable occasion might have the desired effect….the more so as he knows my wish is not to remain near the Metropolis, (London) from which both physical and political reasons drive me.”
Wither the Prince had a word with dad is not known. Augustus did not return to England immediately, when he finally did so it would be under conditions that must have left His Majesty wishing that he had let the fellow come home a lot sooner.
Spring
Nice body of water, eh? It’s not a lake. It’s the river.
I guess you could say the water was running a bit high.
This is the bridge we usually take to get from the shore across a little side channel and into the greater part of the park, which runs along the river.
Ok, so that route wasn’t going to work. We tried another.
Maybe we could swim for it?
Whoa. Look at those whirlpools.
And the way the water just snapped that tree off and carried it along.
Maybe we’ll try again later.
Shoes
This one came in an email titled “Newest Styles out of Japan”
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No way I’d wear any of these. Excpet maybe the red boots. And maybe the ones with the horse shoes. I could see where the horse shoes prints could be fun at the county fair.
Quick and Dirty Gumbo
Enough people asked about the use of Gumbo File’ last Thursday that I decided I better provide a recipe today. This is my way of doing Gumbo, not the “real” way. Real gumbo can take a lot of work and fair amount of time. This won’t taste the same, but it’ll fill the void.
In a medium sized sauce pan toss in the following:
a handful of ham
a hand full of chicken
a little less sausage. – I’ve used bratwurst for this. Italian sausage also works well. Summer sausage gets a weird sour taste, so I don’t recommend it.
onion
tomato – could be fresh cut or canned. Whatever you have laying around
corn nibblets – I use the frozen kind
1 bay leaf
thyme
black pepper
red pepper
maybe some marjoram or basil, depending on my mood.
Shrimp
File’ which I’ll add right before I turn off the heat
Put everything but the file in the pot. Add enough water to cover it all. Bring it to a boil. Let it simmer a few minutes. With the water still bubbling add the file. Turn off the heat, but leave the pot on the burner a few minutes.
bon appétit
There Was an Old Woman Who Lived In a Shoe
Jack: You want to live WHERE?!
Jill: Oh come on, Jack. It’s perfect for us. We don’t need a big place like we have now. This is close to work and comes from the best store.
Jack: No. No way. Nuh-huh. I’m not living in a high-heel. Look, if we have to live in a shoe, I know just the place.
Jill: Shreeeeek! No! You’re kidding, right? You won’t make me live THERE will you?
Jack: What’s wrong with it?
Jill: Where do I start?
Jack: Nevermind. We’ll find somewhere else.
Jill: All right, but where?
Tamy ~ 3 Sides of Crazy
archie
Amy Shipp
saturday photo scavenger hunt
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Today’s theme is shoes
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Previously in Jack and Jill Jack Knows Better
