Tag Archives: WIFE

Blueberry Breakfast Cake Blues

Food & Drink

I downloaded yet another recipe from Facebook this morning. I’m not entirely sure why I feel compelled to do this, because the chances of me actually busting out the mixing bowl reside somewhere between Kim Kardashian authoring an intelligent thought, and Cleveland winning the World Series this year. Yet, somehow, I have amassed a collection of recipes gleaned from Facebook that are approaching the depth of the Grand Canyon.

The last time I downloaded a recipe from Facebook, it was for some sort of delicious looking blueberry breakfast cake.  Since I had, at that very moment in time, a bowl of fresh blueberries in my refrigerator with nothing better to do than to take up space, I simply knew that this delicious looking breakfast cake was destined to be made.

About six days later, I read the list of ingredients, and realized that I was sorely lacking in buttermilk. No problem.

Three days after that, I went to the grocery store and purchased said buttermilk. I brought it home, where it sat in the refrigerator for another 4 days.

Now, I was ready to make the delicious looking blueberry breakfast cake. The blueberries, on the other hand, had other ideas. They had mostly all gone fuzzy and soft. But hey, it happens to the best of us.

A week later, I went back to the grocery store to acquire more fresh blueberries.

You get the general idea.

Five days later, I was again ready to make the delicious looking blueberry breakfast cake – if only I had some unexpired buttermilk.

expired buttermilkbuttermilk


My family understands my pure intentions.     I think.

I just wish they wouldn’t look in my general direction when their stomachs start growling.

Oh well, time to go make dinner. Does anyone happen to have the number for Pizza Hut?


Gray Hair Can Only Mean One Thing


Last week my husband and I were in line at the drive-thru awaiting our turn to order our fast food dinner when he pointed out that the guy in the truck ahead of us had overshot the microphone and was unable to make his order known to the employee eagerly awaiting it on the inside.  My husband quickly pointed out that the gentleman in the truck had white hair.

“Look at that old guy in the truck,” he cackled, “he drove right past the microphone!  Now he’s going to have to back up!  Watch this…he forgot he put the truck in reverse so he’s going to plow right into me!”  He didn’t.

“You’d better be quiet,” I admonished, “that’ll be you next year.”  Hubby did not want to hear this, though I’m pretty sure he is becoming painfully aware of the fact that he is indeed aging.  We are both aware that we are getting a bit older, and apparently, we are not alone.  At work, I have noticed that the younger people often offer assistance when I didn’t necessarily think that I needed any.  I currently work in a restaurant, and it has become quite commonplace for my coworkers to offer to carry trays, dishes, or other heavy items for me.  Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate their kindness, but sometimes it does make me feel, well…old.  At times it seems to me that my younger coworkers are completely aghast that I’m still alive.

I guess that since I still feel pretty young on the inside, I assume that this youthfulness is apparent to others as well.  I do admit, however, that I spend more time lately trying to look younger.  Hubby does too.  The other day I found him, shirtless, checking out his reflection in the mirror.

“Look at this,” he said, disgustedly, as he pinched the small amount of excess fat around his mid-section, “No matter how much I work out, I just can’t seem to get rid of this.”

“I know,” I replied, “I have the same trouble.  It used to be so easy to just eat what I wanted, and just work it off at the gym, but not anymore.”

“I wonder if there’s anything else I can do?”  He pondered aloud.

“I bought beer.”  I said.  We both laughed.

I had better not come home next week and find a Camaro in the driveway.

old couple dancing

Retirement Planning?


Apparently, I’m supposed to have been saving for retirement. Every time I see a commercial on TV showing a slightly graying couple planning their European vacation, I am reminded of this fact. The problem, however, is that I never really decided what I wanted to be when I grew up, and I still don’t know. So, I don’t have a super lucrative job or a retirement account that’s going to get me to Europe any time soon.  I suppose that I should be comforted by the fact that, with the help of a bottle of blonde hair color, I am not slightly graying either. Ha!
When I first went to college, I was originally thinking along the lines of becoming a Psychologist. I took a lot of Psychology courses, and I really liked them. I diagnosed and cured myself (sometimes in the same week) with all sorts of peculiar mental anomalies. Then I found out that, absent a doctorate degree, I would probably never realize the dream of becoming a Psychologist. This would surely mean more school than I had ever thought possible. I knew my limits: dreams dashed.
I puttered around for awhile in the banking industry, until one day, after reviewing a great many loan applications, I realized that the whole world – the whole world – was making more money than I. It was time to do something about it, but I still did not know exactly what.
Several years and multiple student loans later, I had an epiphany: I should major in Marketing. I rationalized that a business degree would open many doors for me. The only real problem, as I saw it, was that I would likely be expected to do math. Math and I have never really gotten along. I think it had something to do with the early childhood trauma of having to solve for x.   X is a letter people. It should not have to aspire to anything more, in my estimation. I recall having told at least one or two of my junior high school math teachers this. They looked askance at me, as only hardened purveyors of complex analytics can, and then they failed me. Nonetheless, math or no math, I felt that it would be to my benefit to pursue the Marketing thing because it would marry the best of both worlds: business and creativity.
I graduated with a BS in Marketing in 1991 only to discover quickly that, to the business world, a Marketing degree meant lots of personal selling. I could not, with any reasonable expectation of success, see myself making a living selling anything to anyone. I’m far too laid back. If someone said “no” to my recommendation that he purchase my wares, I fear that I would simply say, “OK. Have a nice day!” That kind of behavior would surely not lead me to the riches I desired. So, I looked elsewhere.
In 2000 I landed a technical support job with a large cable company . I was terrible at it. In the beginning, anyway, I felt very sorry for the people I “helped.” But, I persevered, even if some of the customers did not, and I came to learn a lot about technology, computers, and the internet. I lasted, on and off, in this blessed endeavor until approximately mid-2013, at which point it was time to part ways with the cable company. The technology bug, however, had been planted, and I soon found myself enrolled in grad school, pursuing an advanced technology degree.

As you might imagine, more schooling meant more math. Although I dutifully mastered the concept of binary operations without my head exploding, I drew a line in the sand at the prospect of more accounting. There is only so much balancing of figures a language oriented person like me can take. I now find myself waiting tables, which in and of itself is really not such a hateful proposition. In fact, I rather enjoy it.  However, it is not going to get me to Europe any time soon either.


Well, at least I haven’t got any gray hairs.

It truly is a “50 thing”


I’ve decided to launch this site in order to chronicle my adventures as a 50-something person in a young person’s world. I mean for it to be a lighthearted look at the world, and lighthearted comments and anecdotes are encouraged. That said, I will remove any argumentative, mean spirited, or decidedly off-topic comments. Let’s keep this civil, people!

I don’t know how I came to be a 50-something. It just happened. One night I went to bed in my 20’s and BOOM, the next thing I knew, I woke up in my 50’s. At least, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
I still feel young, for the most part, and I believe I act young. Some may feel that “immature” is a better description of my behavior. I proudly admit that I do get the occasional sideways glance.

Topics for this blog will likely include anecdotal family stories, work stories, and some off-the-wall observations because, friends, that’s how I roll. I love my family, enjoy working out, hate doing housework, and always enjoy a great sense of humor. I’ve had my share of struggles with career choices, finances, diet and nutrition, parenting a teenager, and living with an elderly parent. I’ll talk about these topics, and many others from time to time. Whether you are also 50-something, somewhat younger, or somewhat older, I hope you’ll come along for the journey. I promise it will be anything but boring!