Just full of complaints - well one anyway

This is going to sound so silly, but I am suffering anyway.  This morning, Krissi called at (gasp) 8.  Early, early.  I rolled over to get the phone but stayed in the prone position.  So here I am - on my back like a beached whale, barely on the edge of the bed, and I have to pee.

Now I most certainly a lady of a certain age.  One whom the OB/GYN keeps reminding she needs a little lifting surgery of the mesh type.  That means I really have to watch straining anytime but most especially in the mornings.

Our conversation was about yet another attempt to get tickets to a local "Nutcracker" performance that we wait until the last minute for.  Looks like this one is also sold out.  That makes three local groups.  And we are too cheap to pay for the Houston Ballet performances.  Geesh - they are costly.

So while I am perched on the side of the bed, Shadow nestles into my arm pit.  He is thinking "ah! She's awake - time for some loving."  I get off the phone and am well aware of the fact I have to get up and to the bathroom - fast.

But the problem is being on the edge of the bed.  There isn't a bit of  "wiggle room" because I will fall.  Not a choice I want under the best of conditions.  And with my weak pelvic muscles - bad.

I moved.  And my sciatica set in.  My back seized up.  I was so afraid things were going to all let loose.  The cat is still right next to me.

I will leave the rest to your imagination and not complain any more with the exception of the fact that I was successful in the trip to the bathroom without a mess!  But I really do not want to do ANY twisting at all.  Chubby Checker - you are out of luck today - no twisting like we did last summer for this gal until the spasms leave my back.

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Yesterday I set out to do something that G really likes.  The day before he volunteered to hit then grocery store for the items needed.  The recipe said it only takes 20 minutes to assemble and two hours to bake.  As the saying goes around these parts:"it lies like a big dog!"

Having forgotten all the fun involved with this process because I haven't done it in a couple of years, I foolishly set out to bake a couple of fruitcakes.  This is like childbirth.  You tend to forget all the pain!

I chose one bowl to mix all the fruit and flour in thinking it would hold it all.  Wrong!  So I got another bowl out.  When all the fruit was in the bowl, it weighed over four pounds.  My hands are too arthritic to turn that much over to coat it all.  G did help there,

I went to my big Kitchen Aide mixer.  I love, love, love that thing.  Got it for a great price.  It is one that is just under the really big professional ones, and its a good thing.  I creamed the butter and the sugar, added the 12 eggs, the four cups of flour one cup at a time with little additions to those (forgetting the blackberry jelly).  Then it came time to mix that with the fruit.

There was a great disparity between the mixing bowl size and the size of the bowl containing the fruit.  But I was bound and determined to "fold" as much fruit into the bowl of the mixer as I could.  The rest I ended up using my best mixing devices I own - my hands.

Now - the liar instructions say to grease and line with parchment paper three loaf pans or six mini loaf pans.  I had a pan with eight minis.  So they were dutifully greased and lined.  I barely made a dent in the mixture.  So I got out my only loaf pans - two.  Still had a plethora of mixture.  Got out two round dishes, and overfilling everything, got all the dough in something in  which to bake it.

After a total of three hours in the oven, (where the recipe said two), I finally got the last of the fruitcake out of the oven.  I divided it all in half - sprinkled it with rum, and put it away.  Half the kids can eat.  Me - I'm sticking to the rum.


Have a great one - and beware of fruitcake recipes!