It's Only Spilt...Taffy

I'd like to show a picture of the mess I woke up to in the kitchen, but I can't. Said mess made my camera, hopefully temporarily, out of commission. When M move in to weeks ago, she came  bearing a box of cooking supplies to make taffy candy, apparently one of her specialties. Word of advice, no matter how good a cook your 15 year old guest is, large amounts of sticky things and red Koolaid for coloring leave a trail of terror in their wake. After their hectic play week, yesterday after school she decided it was time. She made what I think was stage one, a sticky goo that she spread out on a baking sheet with wax paper to cool, or harden. I'm not really sure what the next phase was supposed to be. There it sat on the counter. Some time last night, the girls moved the pan from the counter to the table.Unfortunately, they didn't transfer it flat to the table but had it balancing kittywampus on a stack of brown paper grocery bags.

 I must remember to talk to their physics teacher about deducting points for not remembering the laws of fluids. While it was think and gooey, the taffy matter was most certainly still a liquid. Spread out across the table was a wide puddle of dark pink goo. Surrounded by the goo was my camera, out of its case, the camera case, and camera cord for uploading to the computer and recharging. I tackled trying to salvage the camera and part, and DH tackled the table, chair, and floor as drips extended to and over the edge. Taking pup out this morning, I notice he must have gotten into it as he had a couple taffy spots on his head, but was cranky and not having it when I tried to clean it out. 

I'm sure they will be disappointed that they lost the bulk of their taffy. I'm relieved becasue I think I was able to clean the camera carefully, and not get any wet in parts needed to operate. I ended up submerging the case several times in water as it was covered in taffy goo. I have it hanging outside on a shepherds hook to dry.  The other parts are drying out, post fine scrubbing, waiting to all be returned. It's 7:09 on Saturday and I am already ready for a break. I've learned these last two weeks how mellow a teen my DD#2 is, and have forgotten the energy when you have a houseful all the time. It's not the end of the world-just not something I imagined waking up to. The girls have a party this afternoon at another friends and I may treat myself to a little side day trip excursion somewhere. I spent yesterday purging and transferring pictures from my phone as my SD card was full so I can snap away with the phone if I get an inkling to. I wonder if they'll try the taffy again.  This batch was to have gone to the party, so that was an unfortunate bust. I'll turn them loose on something a little safer-maybe rice krispie bars. Those mallows won't go anywhere once in the pan. 

What's Behind that Door?

I have little envy of the Real Housewives of any where. Their lives seem chaotic and filled with ridiculous drama that if not scripted,which I highly think it is, you couldn't make up. The weekend get aways at 5 star hotels and personal chefs-who care! I can meet up with a friend, a real friend, any weekend for a walk around a neighborhood and a stop at a coffee house, and sit down to a homemade pasta dinner. No, if there is anything I envy is the always immaculate and spotlessly clean homes. Of course these homes are camera ready at all times, and come with cleaning personell. I would love to live in a house in which I do not feel the need to keep certain doors closed at all times. 

While I know most people have a room of doom, the clutter room, the space with a head case, I seem to have many of them.  Closed doors are my friends. I can spend a whirlwind fifteen minutes and get my immediate walk in space tidy enough that I don't want to crawl in a drawer if my mother in law shows up, but if she opened those doors, I might burst into tears. Those doors are meant to stay shut, unless I or a family member open them. These are basic house grade doors-nothing unique.  But when they help hide my clutter, or my unmade bed and dirty laundry strewn shamelessly about the room, they became my ally.

A note about this post.

This post was originally one of my exercises from Sam and Writing. While Natalia Lialina from In the Writers Closet, has decided to end her blogs, I am eternally grateful to her. Her support, feedback, and push to write every day, sometimes about seemingly mundane things, has helped me uncover memories and invoked thoughts and ideas I didn't know I had.  I may be pulling a few others over to meet my Blog Every Day November goal.  #BEDN