Wednesday, November 28, 2018

Knock-Knock. Who the Hell Is There?

Hi, it's me, talking about ghosts again.

For the record, this isn't an "I watch waaay too much Buzzfeed Unsolved" thing. I absolutely do gorge on Buzzfeed Unsolved, but I'm not looking for spooky lights or whipping out the old spirit box. Yet.

Oh, and even though I totally believe in ghosts, I'm a #Shaniac, not a #Boogara. Because Ryan is kind of a whiny bitch, whereas I'd be right next to Shane in an abandoned mission yelling "Hey demon boi!" any day of the week.

Um...if I've lost you and you have no idea what I'm talking about, forget about it. Or check it out.

Prepare to binge watch.
Back to me.

Last night, I slept on my couch. That's a thing I do now that I live alone, partly because sometimes I'm too damn lazy to move to my bedroom, but also because the pull-out couch is much firmer than my bed and I find I toss and turn a lot less. There's also more room for the Siamese Kitten, although she'd rather just curl up in the middle of my pillow while I awkwardly try to fit my head next to her.

So there I was, sleeping, when I was awakened by a noise. A series of noises, actually. A series of thuds. They weren't dull thuds, they weren't sharp thuds. They were just...thuds. Sometimes there was a single thud, sometimes they came in pairs or even three at a time. A few seconds would pass between each one.

They seemed to be coming from various locations - overhead, from the next room, outside. It was hard to tell exactly where they originated. I had no idea what was causing them. My first idea was that the wind was blowing around fairly heavy objects that were on the building roof and/or patios. That would explain the different directions they came from. But when I looked outside there wasn't a breath of wind, and what would have been up on the roof, anyway?

Then I thought maybe it was noise from the construction site next door. But it was way too early for the construction crew to be working. I didn't see people or moving vehicles over there, either.

I even thought it might be the Siamese Kitten having a middle-of-the-night zoom. As she does. Nope, she was fast asleep on my pillow. In fact, she didn't even seem to notice the thuds, except once when she briefly lifted her head, then immediately settled back. The thuds were much louder than her typical thunderpaws, anyway.

The noises were definitely not simply a neighbor walking down the hallway of the building. It's concrete, and it echoes - a lot. The thuds had no echo at all.

Finally, it wasn't noise associated with the furnace. The heat kicked on and then off during this episode - the thuds continued whether it was running or not.

Eventually they just stopped. If they ever came back, I slept through them. Weird.

Ghosts probably hate when we do that.

Oddly enough, I didn't feel at all afraid or uncomfortable during any of this. Strange noises in the night usually freak me out a little - especially when I'm alone. But all I felt was curious as these unexplained thuds beat out their odd tattoo around me.

What do you think, Drunkards? Do I have a (pretty tame) poltergeist? Or am missing a really obvious explanation?

Wednesday, November 21, 2018

Sweetheart 2018

Those of you who have been around here awhile know that every Thanksgiving I share my grandma's recipe for Sweetheart Balls. If you're new here, you don't what the hell I'm talking about. But you will in a minute.

This year I have much to be thankful for. It's been a tough freaking year, not gonna lie, but I've arrived in a pretty good place just in time to be grateful as shit to my family, my friends, and my beloved Drunkards. Today I remember Gran on her birthday and share my annual post with all of you in her honor.


Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Maybe you're one of those perfect people who has had all their side dishes prepared for three days, along with charming little placard holders shaped like baby turkeys, and now you're just waiting to fire up the chainsaw to create the ice sculpture of Miles Standish that will adorn your perfect dining room table.

Well, fuck you.

SORRY. That is not in the spirit of abundance and gratitude, is it?

OK, to make up for it, I have a gift for you. This is my secret weapon, the reason I have no fear about creating a successful Thanksgiving dinner. I give it to you because it's one of my favorite things in the whole world besides monkey art.

This is my grandmother's recipe for Sweetheart Balls.

Last year's batch.

I always think of Gran this time of year. Her birthday was on November 25, just one day after Precocious Daughter's. In fact she missed PDaughter's birth by just a few months, passing away literally a week before I found out I was expecting. I remember her best in the kitchen, making holiday meals with a charming apron tied around her waist. I especially remember Sweetheart Balls. They're the best thing ever.

This recipe not complicated, it's not fancy. It's simply not Thanksgiving without it. My grandmother's Sweetheart Balls always graced our holiday tables as far back as I can remember, and in recent years I've happily won converts among the next generation and many friends. And to honor Gran, I'm going to share her recipe with you. Because it's so yummy, and so easy.

Let me emphasize: You can make this recipe. I don't care if you're a complete culinary idiot, if you can't melt butter, if "peel back film to vent" constitutes extensive preparation in your vocabulary. You can make Sweetheart Balls. You can serve them as an appetizer, a side dish, or a dessert, and they will make you look good. This is my gift to you. Even if you don't make them on Thanksgiving, make them sometime. You'll love them, and I'll love that people are enjoying my grandma's special treat.

So Happy Thanksgiving. Count your blessings, appreciate your riches (especially the ones that aren't actually monetary), and if you are so fortunate, eat 'til you burst.

Sweetheart Balls

8 oz. cream cheese
1 small can crushed pineapple
10-12 maraschino cherries (more or less)
1 sleeve (give or take) of graham crackers

Let the cream cheese sit out for 30 minutes or so to soften but not get too gooey. Drain the pineapple (save the juice*). Cut each cherry into about a dozen small bits - don't worry if they're sitting in a small pool of cherry juice. Put the graham crackers into a plastic zipper bag and use a rolling pin or tall can to crush them into coarse, not quite powdery, crumbs.

Combine the cream cheese, pineapple, and cherries with a spoon or your hands to make a lumpy, pasty mess. Hands are way more fun, but make sure they're clean, people. The cherry juice should turn the mixture a very pale pink, or add more juice to taste. Pinch off enough of the mixture to form into a 1-inch ball, then roll in the graham cracker crumbs. Place on a plate and repeat until you have used up all of the cream cheese (this recipe should make about three dozen balls and of course can be doubled or tripled or whateverpled). Crush additional graham crackers if you run out of crumbs before you run out of cream cheese.

Cover with plastic wrap and chill for a couple of hours or overnight. To serve, set the plate out and encourage indiscriminate indulgence.


*Bonus recipe: When you drain the pineapple, reserve the juice. Add a little bit of maraschino cherry juice and a few drops of vanilla extract. Pour into a glass of any size you wish. Fill with vodka. Drink.