Showing posts from June, 2011

Two to share

Gluten-Free & livin' the dream... I have two recipes to share that are yum-yum-yummy!

Strawberry Cream Cheese Bread
(how could this not be good)

1/2 cup butter, softened
3/4 cup sugar (don't try using half Splenda like I did on the first go-round)
4 ounces cream cheese, softened
3 eggs
1 tbsp. vanilla extract
2 cups GF Bisquick
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 cup buttermilk
at least 2 cups strawberries, chopped

Cream butter, sugar, and cream cheese until light and whipped. Add eggs- letting each one mix in before adding the next. Add vanilla.
Mix in Bisquick on low speed until just mixed.  Add buttermilk last and stir until just combined. Add strawberries. Do not over mix!
Bake in a 9x5 loaf pan for 55 minutes. Remove and cover with foil to cool.

Banana Bread with no nuts

1/2 cup butter, softened
2/3 cup sugar (more or less depending on taste, I like more)
3 eggs
1 tbsp. vanilla
1 cup soy flour
1 cup rice flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup buttermilk


I have always heard, and believed, that there no place is quieter than out in the country. Sitting on any given back porch of any given house at any given moment; with the greatest of ease- there it is- silence. No "hustle and bustle" or cars rumbling by, just good, old fashion, peace and quiet.

Here is my bold statement for the day: They (whoever they are) are lying. The "country" is one of the loudest places screaming in silence that I have ever heard.

Right now, I am sitting on the balcony of our little apartment, looking out at the Basilica, while my babe and my husband sleep. Thank God for sleep. Sitting here, on this peaceful day, the trains are passing each other over my left shoulder and the clouds are piling up. Construction is going on 7 floors below me. The clock inches closer to 5pm and the ensuing mad Friday summer rush hour up and down second street with both tourists and locals, dog-cussing the other. In this moment, it is not quiet. My computer ther…

Before she went BONK!

This is my peanut in Posh Pickle clothes. I went shopping the other day online and found the cutest items for her...

See that... that's smocked. And I'm in love all over again.

Even Eileen is in love.

Gators and palm trees with ric-rac, love!

This one is getting monogrammed...

But, oh, the back!

Won't it be precious with a pink monogram? It looks a little naked without it.

And, yes, this is moments before she went BONK. She still has her war wound.

So, check 'em out. & type RMC in the shipping notes to get free shipping. Be prepared to die when you see the cost. Oh, and they monogram! $10. Seriously? I'm all over it.


Potty training is gross. The things we do, say, and discuss are just icky. My poor friend training her son had to endure mess after mess after mess. I have the lightest stomach ever and gag at the thought of, well, let’s call it daisies. She must have a stomach of steel with her Clorox wipes scrubbing whatever corner became the place to plant daisies.  Daisies were nothing that was ever discussed growing up- polite company or otherwise. Mold, spiders, and dead bugs we are cool with, but daisies- no sir. We do not talk about it. Or tooting. We don’t talk about that, nor do we do something so oafish. Not this girl. Not in this family. Nope.  So, as a parent, I have to convey to LMC about planting daisies and where daisies belong. How they get there, and how we have to be patient. So, we sit on the flower bed and wait... and whisper, “Shhhh.... we’re on daisy patrol 2k11. We cannot scare away them away. Shhhh.....” And we talk about the daisies. A lot.  Leaving 705 to go anywhere, she tells …

Now I know...

Not only is she full of herself, she has the energy of two two year olds. I love it. It is summertime and we spend our days (when it is not too breezy like it has been the past two days) at the pool running up and down and up and down and up .... and down. Eventually, she makes a timid step to the “loder” and says “kik kik an-ew” on repeat until she has enough courage to actually kick like Andrew. Yesterday, it was just slap too chilly to be in the water. Husband was post call, and we needed to fill our morning before filling our afternoon. So, we made carrot pudding (don’t knock it. It’s not like it’s celery soup) and Eileen cracked the eggs in her hands, poured the flour on the counter and licked the brown sugar off her fingers. Husband came home early and, literally, fell asleep eating lunch at the table, holding Eileen.  Ouch.  Sweeping him to the bedroom for a few zzzzzzs, Eileen looked at me and said, “shhh, da-dee night night,” in a whisper with a finger to her lips. Of course, th…

Lunch is over.

She is two. She is definitely two. She is so two, she might as well be four divided by two.

But, she is two. At a point in her life where she cannot be reasoned with, nor can she tell a lie. Fits are fits and they are handled with and we move on. Tempers are tempers and I am working feverishly to help her develop tools to manage it. Life lessons are put into small things. When she falls, she always hears, "What's the most important part about falling? Getting back up. Good job." No matter the fall.


It's been a rough go at the last few days, the power outage has really screwed up our hand-to-mouth system. There is money in savings (we did sell a house, after all), but if we touch it now, it will not be there in two years when it is time to buy again. So, it is a careful balance of taking and replacing, but the power outage has us taking more and replacing less.

Prescriptions need to be refilled and replaced. Milk needs to be purchased. The renters policy is rene…

Early Mornings

I love the quiet of early mornings here at 705. The internal clock beeps about 6:30 these summer mornings and my day begins. The sun is shining, the news is on mute & music is playing quietly from my computer as I get the day started with bill paying, work details, a small breakfast, and whatever quiet chores I can accomplish while my little one slumbers in her blackened room.  It is peaceful and a wonderful way to begin before the chaos ensues when LMC squeaks from behind her double doors, “Ma-MEE? An-Ew?” Almost tapping my foot by her door ready to get her out, the doors sweep open and a singsong “Good Morning, my sweet princess!” to kick start what will always be a whirlwind day of playing, swimming, baking, “hep-ing” ma-ma, and whatever adventures we can find for the two Cagle girls.  We do laundry together, taking twice as long as it should so she can load the washing machine, separate the clothes and carry her those that are hers to her room. Yesterday, Husband was home early …

Arts & Crafts

It's arts & crafts day at 705 Senate & Eileen made her very own treasure chest, complete with silver doubloons. 

My Current Project

So, after the catastrophe of last week, I started this weekend with a three-part knitting class. Teacher at large, Marie Connolly, the only woman I have ever met that makes knitting look cool. She is young, has three children, bikes everywhere (thus making her a not-so-amazing driver), and is totally urbanfied. She even wrote a book about knitting. I'm not kidding, she's pretty great. Okay, enough of my love sonnet- check out what I learned:

Please... do you think that's impressive? I learned something new...

STRIPES! Not just one stripe, but several stripes. I'm so cool.

Even if I am the biggest dork ever.

Cause & Effect

We have stayed in three different hotel rooms for the past three nights. 
I'm cranky.

Eileen would not nap. 
I have a headache.

The only thing consumed has been chips & chicken salad. Oh, and last night I paid $17 for two poached eggs.
I'm hungry.

The grocery store trip on Monday cost over $100.
I'm throwing it all out. Probably $600 worth of food. Gone.

The last three nights have been spent in hotels.
I had to use my American Express.

The mailman has refused to deliver our mail.
I am not so sure about that "rain, snow, dark of night" business anymore.

There has only been one generator operating one elevator in each building.
I had to walk up seven flights of stairs (with a baby) to change out our clothes, expecting each day would be the last. I had to walk down seven flights of stairs with our new clothes in our one bag and our baby.

I'm tired. 
I am thankful, though, that the power is back on.

The Vacation that Just. Won't. End.

When we first moved up here, it was hot. Damn hot. And 225,000 people were without power for days upon days upon days. I felt sorry for them, but was just more than thankful for my central a/c, my rooftop pool, and my cold, cold fridge.

Today. Today is a different story. Today, we are three people without power.

Arriving home Monday, we had a great afternoon by the pool. Back downstairs in our apartment though, something was brewing. Actually, in all the apartments, in all the two buildings that encompass Senate Square. The air conditioning was failing. On Memorial Day Monday. With the technicians on other service calls. So, the entire maintenance crew came in and did what they could. (imagine a bunch of rocket scientists performing brain surgery. They got it done, to some degree)

As it got hotter, Husband & Wife grew frustrated with the increase in temperature at anything we could be frustrated with. A phone call to the The Hotel George discovered a little pity & a insanely r…