Creampuff Revolution

Creampuff's Plum Duff

Our neighbour who hates us (stay tuned for THAT story) has an enormous plum tree in her yard.

The first year we lived here, I don't think it fruited because I feel that even *I*, whose ironic nickname is "Sherlock Rose", would have noticed a shit ton of plums falling on our lawn, if only because Pumbaa would have tried to eat them.

The second year, there were plums but not a CRAZY amount of plums and also, she now hated us, so I didn't bother to pick them and just let the few that were on our side of the fence fall into the garden, until our landscaper pointed out that they might attract rodentia, at which point I gathered them up and composted them.

This year...there are a crazy amount of plums. And, unlike last year, several heavily laden branches are fully in our yard. And I tasted one and it was pretty good.

I wanted to pick the plums. They were on our side. They were inaccessible to her even if she got on a ladder and leaned over the fence. If I didn't pick them, they would just fall and rot in the garden. One could argue they were our plums.

Even if the law might be on our side, I didn't want to pick the plums while our neighbour who hates us was home. The tree is adjacent to her back balcony, where she occasionally hangs out.

We reached a détente after the events of last year and I didn't want to spoil the delicate peace by shaking her own plum tree in her face.

I kept poking my head out the front door, like a fucking gopher popping out of its burrow, to check if her truck was in her driveway (no one uses their garages for their cars here except for us, it's so weird).

Is it plum time yet? How about now? OMG LADY, JUST LEAVE THE HOUSE FOR 15 MINUTES.

Our neighbour who hates us often works from home (because, I learned before she hated us, she doesn't get along with her co-workers, HAHAHAHAHAHA THE FLAG IS SO RED THO) But she's an active person who goes out and does things, so I was sure I'd be able to find a time when she was gone to get my hands on those plums.

It took 4 days.

I had just finished my French lesson, where I told my teacher the whole story about the neighbour who hates us (gripping, apparently, even in my halting French, we went overtime) and I poked my plum gopher head out the front door and saw that she had finally left the premises.

"It's PLUM TIME, BITCHES!" I yelled at Katr as I cruised through the living room on my way out the back. "Good luck!" she called after me.

I grabbed a bucket, almost died vaulting over the garden Pumbaa-barrier into the bunny grass and made it to the heavily laden tree. Ripe? Not ripe? Basically, if it wasn't actively rotting, it went into the bucket. The bucket was almost full when I heard her balcony door open.

Fuck! Fuck!

Then I heard her 20 year old son's voice, calling for their cat who likes to come drink out of our bird bath and shit beneath the magnolia. I knew that if he saw what I was doing, he wouldn't say anything TO me but he seems like a narc.

Fortunately, I was mostly done and the tree's canopy covered me until I could emerge in a different part of the garden, using my prodigious bulk to hide my bucket of purloined plums.

Guys. I got a bucket of plums.

It was a lot of plums, guys.

What the fuck am I going to do with all these plums?

I wanted to make a plum duff, because it sounds fun and rhymes with "Creampuff" but I looked up the recipe and the first ingredient was "suet."

So I started with this plum almond cake.

It was a TINY bit over done on the bottom but otherwise very moist and tasty, light, not too sweet.

A couple of days after the great plum heist, Katr noticed something weird about the plum tree -- one of the branches was broken. I took a closer look and saw that TWO of the branches were broken, which kind of explains why so much of the tree was practically in our yard.

"You should take a photo and text her," said Katr, a normal person who is nice.

"Counterpoint," I said, "I do NOT text her, we wait until winter when all the leaves fall off and she notices it herself."

"No," said Katr, "because we are people who do the right thing."

Sigh.

So I took some photos of the broken part of the tree, as far away as I could so that she wouldn't accuse me of taking pictures of HER YARD, and sent them to her and her son with a friendly "Heads up, your tree is fucked up, you might not be able to see it from your side" note and she actually responded "Thx", so Katr, you are probably right AGAIN, shut up.

And now, another scintillating 50x50 update:
New recipes: 5 (includes that plum cake!)
Vegetarian meals: 39
Board game plays: 17
5KM walks: 20
Blog posts: 11

Creampuff Clean Sweep

Back when we bought our place, we were very excited to have a second bedroom to use as our home office, because we work from home and in our old place, the office was the dining room, which made it hard to host dinners. This place was advertised as a "two bedroom plus den" but the "den" is the size of a walk-in closet. We affectionately refer to it as The Nook, or, during the holidays when I put up Christmas decorations in there, The Elf Nook.

We had dreams of turning The Nook into a craft room or a reading room as well as a guest room. But we get a lot of deliveries due to Katr's game obsession various reasons and this house has minimal storage and no garage, so it was handy to store empty boxes in The Nook until we got around to taking them to the recycling depot.

Back when Drtr lived with us, The Nook was his room, so we went to the recycle depot a LOT more often. But we haven't had a guest in the room for a few months and this time of year, a lot of boxes arrive and today we realized that Drtr is coming back for a holiday visit soon and the room looks like this:

It's like a hoarder's dream, you guys. Little boxes. Big boxes. Random sheets of paper. Take out bags from various Skip The Dishes orders. Some medical supplies I'm holding for a friend. 500 little padded envelopes. Bags of shredded paper.

My favourite is the cable boxes in the hutch at the back. We just upgraded to Shaw Blue Curve but didn't want to get rid of the old school PVR just in case and it's smart we didn't because Blue Curve sucks VERY HARD and we might have to switch back. Don't talk to Katr about this, she is ready to lose her shit.

Anyway, if you're like me, there's little that's more satisfying than a before and after shot, so today, Katr and I got the shitty scissors and broke down all the boxes and took them to the recycle depot. Here's the "after" shot of the Elf Nook - eat your heart out, Marie Kondo!

After the recycle depot, we went to the Home Depot, where I took a shot of Santa checking out some hot unicorn ass.

Creampuff Taunted by Chicken Restaurant

Growing up in Alberta, we didn't have Swiss Chalet. So when I moved to Ontario for university and everyone in my dorm flipped their shit over the Festive Special, I was like Ben Wyatt in Parks and Rec not understanding why everyone was so into Li'l Sebastian.  Like, guys...it's chicken. And some not great stuffing. Calm your tits.

Of course, after several more years of living in the land of the Swiss, I had become as indoctrinated as everyone else. Katr, coming from Texas, had also become a Swiss Chalet convert and when we moved to Vancouver, one of the biggest disappointments was being outside the delivery zone for both the Trutch St. AND Lougheed Hwy Swiss Chalets. A Swiss Chalet dead zone, if you will. We had to DRIVE to get Swiss Chalet GAWD TOTAL NIGHTMARE.

So when we bought our place in 2010, people laughed when we said we chose the location because it was within Swiss Chalet's delivery zone and we laughed too, but with our mouths full of chicken.

It's pretty rare that a month will go by without a visit from the dirty bird. Even if the salads are occasionally paltry or the fries aren't always as crispy as you'd like, we remain loyal customers. The delivery folks know to stay back from the door so I can slip out and pay them without the dog flying at their junk. We all have our little rituals around our meals, like how Kate always shakes the salad like maracas while I make a weird poutine out of my chicken, fries and that sweet, sweet Chalet sauce. Plus, this time of year, cranberry sauce!

A few days after Thanksgiving, I opened my Swiss Chalet app to order and ... I couldn't. It said the restaurant was "closed". "Huh," I thought, "Well, I guess the restaurant is closed today."

About a week later, we went to order again and same deal. This time, though, I got worried. The Trutch St. location actually fuckin' closed a couple of years ago - what if our beloved Lougheed location was gone too?? UNTHINKABLE. 

Katr went online and got the goods from other panicky Swiss Chalet fans - the restaurant was closed for renovations but was supposed to open up at the beginning of November.

"Whew," we said to each other, our heart rates returning to normal, "just in time for Festive Special season!"

Well, Festive Special season began and still, the restaurant was closed. Katr finally broke down and tweeted them; apparently now we won't be able to get our mitts on the Festive Special until "mid- to late November". NOOOOOOOOO!!

Even though our local Swiss Chalet is closed, I still get a lot of promotional email from Swiss Chalet, reminding me about the Festive Special. But I was prepared to be chill about missing out on a few weeks of precious Festive Special time because there literally could not be a more first world problem than this. And then today:

Our only local Swiss Chalet has been closed for renovations for OVER A MONTH. Every day without a Festive Special is like a knife to the heart. And today, I get this in my email. In the words of the great @jannarden, @SwissChaletCA - this feels A LITTLE INSENSITIVE. pic.twitter.com/Uy6RhhsDhS

— Rosemary Rowe (@rosemaryrowe) November 13, 2019

Creampuff Kicks Off Fourth Year of NaBloPoMo

I had to clear my cookies awhile back and so when I came to start my NaBloPoMo journey today, I couldn't remember my login, so that felt real.

This is the fourth year in a row that I've attempted to get my annual Typepad subscription's worth by blogging for 30 days straight. Every year, I have a great time sharing the minutiae of my life, largely with my most loyal reader (me), and think, as the month comes to an end, "I should do this more often!" and then it's suddenly November again and I'm like:

Anyway, IT'S ON BITCHES SEE YOU TOMORROW WITH SOME SWEET SHOTS OF MY SHAR PEI.

 

A Final Creampuff #TBT...FOR NOW

I have loved doing NaBloPoMo every year but maybe this wasn't the best month for it. Just way too much other fun stuff going on and not enough time for the kind of  inspiring, uplifting content I know all three of you come for. I had a whole list of things I was going to blog about this month and just didn't really have time. But MAYBE that means I'll actually use my blog at OTHER TIMES this year! It could happen!

Anyway, one of the things I wanted to write about involved yet another story about my grandfather's slide collection and how at one point, he and my grandmother traveled to Northern Ireland, where I have also been and took pictures at places I have been. That's a longer post but here's a tease - a photo of my grandmother Jero at the Giant's Causeway, about 30 years before I was there.

I don't look a lot like my grandmother Jero and she passed away when I was only about five, but I recognize this expression because I see it in the mirror ALL THE TIME. Genetics!

Creampuff Kingdoms

Two things have happened this week that have seriously hampered my ability to get shit done.

1. Ironside Games released their new game Kingdom Rush: Vengeance.

I complained last year about how I didn't have enough dumb games to play and part of that was because it had been SOOO long since there was a new Kingdom Rush. Kingdom Rush is my favourite iPad tower defence game. There are three of them already - Original, Frontiers and Origins and they are all super gorgeous to look at, super fun to play and full of clever little pop culture references. Vengeance is the fourth Kingdom Rush and it came out TODAY OMG SEE YA

2. The Last Kingdom Season 3 just showed up on Netflix.

I'm not going to lie to you. I'm a little heterosexual for Uhtred of Bebbanburg.

This show is set in the 800s and it's about Saxons vs. Vikings, or "The Danes" as they're called in The Last Kingdom (is there a difference between the Vikings and the Danes? I don't care enough to look it up, if you're passionate about it, let me have it in the comments).

Uhtred was born a Saxon, was raised a Dane and now forms a bit of a bridge between the two, plus he is trying to reclaim his birthright, the throne of Bebbanburg, which his uncle stole from him when he was a child.

I don't know if I'd recommend this show to anyone I know, honestly, because it's violent and has a lot of dudes in it. I don't even know why I like it so much but I REALLY DO and also, in one season, one of Uhtred's sidekicks is a kick-ass warrior nun named Hild OH HERE SHE IS NOW HELLO

The Last Kingdom is less rape-y than Game of Thrones (or it has been, up to now, I can't speak for Season 3) and also, while bad things happen to the good guys, bad things happen to the bad guys with equal frequency, so you don't feel like Uhtred just spends every episode getting kicked in the knards. Fun!

(As a side note, I watched part of the first season of the show Vikings and I got all excited when they were about to land in England for the first time. But I suddenly realized "Wait - this isn't Star Trek: TNG - these guys aren't excited to learn about new cultures or open diplomatic channels. They're just going to fucking kill everybody and take their shit." And they did! I didn't watch much more of it. Good times.)

What will I do first??? Play Kingdom Rush? WATCH The Last Kingdom? HISTORY WILL DECIDE.

Creampuff's Wife Writes a Guest Post

I started this blog 13 years ago and in all that time, Katr has never written a guest post. But today she did, motherfuckers!! I'm glad she is here to raise the tone on the eve of her 50th birthday. I love you, Katr! I look forward to being crones with you.

I don't understand how I can be turning 50 years old in a couple of weeks. Seriously. I feel like I am 17 or 23 or maybe 35. Mentally, anyway. Physically, some days I feel like I'm 101. Is that a liver spot on my hand? Where did that weird blister on my elbow come from? Though I will not subject you to my delightful peri-menopause odyssey. Perhaps for next year's guest post. [ed. I WILL HOLD YOU TO THAT]

This aging thing really hit home for me today when I was starting a new writing assignment. I already use a 27" monitor. But when I opened Word, I increased the magnification to 200% and used my "typing font" of 12 pt Cambria (vs my printing font of 11 pt Arial).

Jesus. I feel like Scotty. 

My friend DaPo and I joke about being Grandpa Simpson and set in our curmudgeonly ways. "Kids! Get off my lawn!"

I also got "progressive lenses" for the first time this year. Three different lens strengths rolled into one pair of glasses: close up (for my pills), mid-range (for my giant computer screen) and distance (for driving - miraculously, they still let me drive - though I have to renew my driver's license before my birthday, so maybe they won't - lol - omg). I kind of hate them because it feels like I don't see anything very well now.

The nice Australian who adjusted them after I got my new prescription said it might take a few weeks to get used to it. My father-in-law said it took him a year. I'm somewhere in between those two and holding out hope. Though I still have to take them off for ultra tiny type. Especially when it is dark blue on silver. Who puts micro dark blue type on silver paper? I'm looking at you NutraSea Omega-3.

I've started gravitating towards media that depicts older women in a positive light. I insisted we watch Book Club. It was not the greatest movie, but it was comforting to see those four fantastic women on screen. And it made me grateful that I do not have children as annoying as Diane Keaton's in that movie. Fuck. I don't think I ever treat my mother like that. Mom, I apologize if I do.

And of course Grace and Frankie is a favourite as well. While I still have a good 20 years before I hit their ages, I find their exploits inspiring - particularly how they became entrepreneurs at 70. In real life, I am definitely an uptight Grace, though I'm hoping to age into a free-wheeling Frankie. We need more role models of successful older women. More stories about mid-life. Stories that aren't tragic or marginalizing.

I was recently delighted by an interview with Ann Dowd of The Handmaid's Tale fame.

I got through the shift, and I went home on my porch, and I wept and screamed into the night, "When?! When is my turn?" And it was one of those dark nights of the soul—we're all familiar, I'm sure. And a voice—I'm not kidding—quiet, probably from the inside, said, "It will all be fine. It will all be all right. You will be in your fifties. You will be 56." And I said, "Oh no! No, no!"—missing the whole point of the voice

Now, I've enjoyed success before hitting 50, which is amazing. But I want to embark on some new projects. At 50. And that is scary. But Ann inspires me.

Side note - It's interesting to watch The Handmaid's Tale knowing that, at my age, I'd be an Aunt and not a Handmaid.

So where does this leave me, a fortnight before 50? Hoping I have a few more decades left. Thankful for being able to take a risk on new projects at this point in my career. But mostly thankful for having such an incredible partner - in business and in life.

Guys, Rosemary sings my praises a lot on this blog. Most, if not all, of it is undeserved [ed. UNTRUE]. So I am thankful for this small chance to sing her praises. But I am not nearly as eloquent as she. So I'll just have to say it like this ...

[ed. Quiet weeping brought on by gifs of the greatest love story on television]

Creampuff #TBT

As I mentioned in my Sunday post, my cousin Caro has finished scanning almost all of my grandfather's huge collection of slides and, along with those stunning princess shots, little Roro makes a few more appearances.

In the spirit of #TBT, here are a few of my favourites:

This is me and my little brother Jaro.

Between the long skirt and the little knit cap, I feel like we look like kids in a polygamous cult. Jaro is saying "I don't think that guy is really The Prophet." and I'm saying "Shhh, Jaro. That's Satan talking."

I call this one "Rosemary's Baby".

What kind of creepy face am I making? I get a real "I done killt ma sister"/We Need to Talk about Kevin vibe from this photo. Rest assured that is a DOLL, not an actual baby. I ASSUME.

Here is me letting my dad know that NATURE. IS. THE. WORST.

And here is me ready to do some serious yardwork, with my sweet grandma hovering behind me to make sure I don't fall into the pond to the left.

I love the look on my face here, like "Listen. I know I'm a main event in your life. But I'm just an ordinary kid, just here to garden like everyone else. Although I am aware that I am ROCKING THIS SNOWSUIT"

I DONE KILLT MA SISTER

Creampuff a Little Late for Hallowe'en

Someone asked me recently what my favourite Hallowe'en costume was when I was a kid.

At first, I just laughed, because I could not remember a costume that I wore during my Alberta childhood that wasn't ruined by having to wear a parka over it. COME ON, ALBERTA.

After some reflection, though, I had to answer that my favourite costume was probably the princess costume my mom made for me when I was in kindergarten.

I fucking LIVED for that thing. It was sparkly. There was a cape. It was long and flowy and pouffy and perfect.

In December of 2015, my awesome cousin Caro took it upon himself to begin scanning our grandfather's prodigious collection of slides and put them up on Dropbox for the fam to check out. There were several boxes. But Caro is a man of infinite patience.

Over the years, Caro has uploaded some super cool photos. There were some sweet travel shots from my grandparents' various trips to Europe in the '60s and '70s, but there were also a number of family shots from the '50s and early '80s. Last week, he uploaded the final batch.

I looked at all of the travel shots in this latest round, but then I got distracted, so I didn't finish going through some of the final folders.

And last night, my brother Jaro sent me an email with the subject line "Have you ever been happier?" and this picture of me. In my favourite costume. Of ALL TIME:

My poor mom. She worked SO hard to not aggressively gender me as a kid but at every turn, I was like "Make with the frills, bitch!"

If you look closely though, I AM wearing a pair of lesbian overalls under the princess ensemble. Because on some level, I must have known the crinoline wouldn't last.

I was also a master horsewoman.

Creampuff Wraps Up Another NaBloPoMo

I did it! 30 days! 30 posts! And they were all GOLD. Hahahahahahaaa

Huge thanks goes to Katr, for inspiring me with her heroism and being patient every day as I complained that I didn't know what to write about.

It's Katr's birthday today and darling - my gift to you is to not be blogging every day. YOU ARE WELCOME MY LOVE

Some excellent things have come out of this month of blogging revitalization:

1. I got caught up with awesome blogger and fellow NaBloPoMo-er Solitary Diner, from whom I stole some post ideas.
   
   
2. I made friends with a Fiona the Baby Hippo fan as rabid as myself (Hi Jennifer!)
   
   
3. I learned that one of my childhood friends is now a GI nurse and so next time I have a stomach explosion, she said I could message HER on Facebook instead of my gastritis prayer group!
   
   
4. I discovered that a LOT of people get email for other people thanks to Gmail letting you register email addresses with periods or dashes and then not recognizing periods or dashes.
   
   
5. I found out that when you mention Duolingo in a post, Duolingo will email you about your "great article" and ask you to put a link to Duolingo in your post (you're welcome, Igor from Duolingo).
   
   
6. I showed up for things that I said I would attend and inspired at least one other person to show up for something they might otherwise have blown off. So yeah, I'm a thought leader. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

This afternoon, we completed our holiday decor with a wreath from the UBC Botanical Garden:

 

Then took the dog for a romp in the rain:

And tonight, we celebrate the miracle of Katr's birth with much drinking and merriment! And then we will come home drunk and watch the reunion special of this season's Project Runway, because OMG THE TWINS.

Thanks to everyone who came to read my blog this month and to everyone who stroked my ego by telling me I should do it more. My intentions are so good, you guys.

I love you all and we'll see you next November!