Ditzy Day

My thoughts on purchasing land in Crescent City have not diminished, but my ideas on how to carry out my plans have changed several times. Meanwhile, I have had an excessive attack of being ditzy.

Last night I ushered for a hilarious performance of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum at the Music Circus. I had my mind on yesterday’s brainstorm for buying a place in Crescent City and I kept making stupid errors, which happily enough, only damaged my ego. Early this morning I went to the grocery store for eggs and when I returned, as I drove toward my house I realized I had left the garage door was wide open - GAK! I never forget to close it so I was obvious I was still operating on emergency brain cells.

A short time later I stared preparing breakfast and there was a knock at the door. It was my neighbor, the good one who helped out so much when I got robbed. Anyway, he was going through the neighborhood getting sign-ups for the Neighborhood Watch. I told him I would, months ago so I did so. I told him was considering selling the house. He recommended I wait a couple of years because the price of houses in our area is somewhat depressed just now, but ought to go back up in a couple of years! He guestimated my house is currently worth around $300K, $330K tops. Boogers! I want at around $400K for my house and not that long ago I could have gotten it! Ok, truth to be told, the news on the local real estate prices was a bit of a relief as it gives me breathing space to get my house ready for sale, though mind, it’s in pretty damn good shape now. I won't be selling my house until the market creeps back up again. As soon as I locked the door and headed back into the kitchen I dropped a plate, sending shards of crockery everywhere. Then I spilled some coffee all over a counter.

Yep. Lots of things on my mind.

The Eternally Flaming Spotted Dick

A lovely pudding 

Ok, this posting has nothing to do with any blokes. Spotted Dick is a British pudding, that is a dessert, made of sponge cake spotted with raisins and sultanas. Sultanas are also raisins but they are raisins with great PR. Anyway, while in Monterey I stopped by a British specialties shop at which I bought all sorts of Brit sweets, such as toffees, pastilles and a vacuum packed Spotted Dick.

During my last night with Barb in Monterey on August 9th, I was crabby because the wireless Internet connection was fagging out for the third day in a row and I was a tad crabby. Ok, I was a vicious, blood-sucking harpy bitch; happy? Anyway, I decided a bit of spotted dick would be a lovely way to end my day.

So I heated up the pudding and added about a ¼ of some raw blueberries. Then I warmed up about an ounce of Grand Marnier, turned out the lights, and with great flourish, lit my Spotted Dick (you there, STOP giggling!).

Nothing happened.

So, I poured on some more Grand Marnier and again tried to light the Dick and the blueberries.

Again; nothing happened. Damn!

So again I added another dousing of Grand Marnier to the Dick. Nothing happened. I rationalized that perhaps the microwaving of the liqueur had burned off the alcohol.

By this time Barbara, who had been reading, wanted the lights back on. I refused and again tried to light the Dick, this time dropping the lit match down my nightgown gaining the effect, not of flaming Spotted Dick, but flaming tit, which as far a I know may be a British delicacy, but you aren’t about to find it in any cooking books.

‘Add some more Grand Marnier!’ said Barb, wanting to get back to reading her Oprah magazine. I liberally poured some more on the Dick and the raw blueberries, which by now was in serious need of a life preserver.

I held the match to the Dick – WOOOF - the Dick went up in blue flames!

‘Oh’, suggested Barbara, ‘maybe you didn’t get the thing lighted well enough.’

No shite! The flames burned on and on. I raced for my camera to record the event and got the shot lined up, sure the flames would burn out before I was ready, then remembered there was no battery in the camera so I raced off to fetch it, which sent Barbara and me into fits of laughing hysteria.

Some five minutes, and several photos later, the Dick was still in flames! I guess Barb was right, I hadn’t quite gotten the liquor lit and bowl was heating up. I considered sending the bowl, Dick, berries and all, off to make an eternal flame for James. I know he could have appreciated all the Freudian connotations of an eternally flaming Spotted Dick.

The 'potato' shown below, in the dish surrounded by raw blueberries is really a Spotted Dick, photographed with the lights on.

Here is the Spotted Dick photographed modestly below; lights out, out of focus, but with flames blazing on and on and on an the blueberries cooked to a tee!

And Lo! Eventually the flames went out and I had my 'pudding'. No surprises the raw blueberries were now nicely boiled and quite yummy.

Options, Options, and more Options

The most important bit of our drive south from Crescent City to Fort Bragg took place with me in the driver’s seat sucking down a Venti soy Mocha Café. Barb and I discussed Inez's strong intuition about Keven’s house and property feeling to her as if it is good as in vibes. I do not argue with Inez on such matters because she knows, and as I headed south through the redwoods I fussed on about the Keven’s eensie house – it was small and it was too too small for me to take seriously as a potential home.

‘No way I can live in a house that tiny! Now it would be different if it was a guest house I could see it being pretty neat…’

The horribly undersized, rough house transmogrified into a eensie sweet, adorable cottage and now it looked rather good! The previous day Barbara and I had been pleasantly surprised by some beautiful and spacious modular homes. The homes seemed well made and they are spanking new and made to order (hardwood floors for Claire instead of creepy, dust gathering nasty rugs). I have no intention of retiring to a money-pit sort of house.

We got really excited about the idea of me purchasing Keven’s property, plopping a new modular unit on it and using the house there as my office and craft space and a guest cottage. The tax implications alone are delightful! The garage is humongous and could be used to store hay and park a car and a horse trailer.

A view of the garage (my future tack room, hay storage & two car garage). The peaked roof in the background is the cottage, which is a separate building Note potential future feathered neighbor, taking her 13 babies for a stroll.

The only necessity then would be for me to put in a corral. Hey! Just dawned on me Keven’s incubator room could do well as a tack room for saddles and such.

So when we got to Fort Brag I put in a call to Keven asking him to find out if the zoning would allow for a second home on an acre property. If the zoning allows for say, only an 800 square foot granny unit, we could have Keven lop off the little back rooms off the main house.

Anyway, that is where my mind is just now; Crescent City and retirement.