A Good Home, Canadian life, Cooking, Floral Arrangement, Hospitality, Humour

Hospitality Advice From the Undomestic Diva

My best advice for Staying Alive if you’re Undomestic:

Marry a man or woman who can cook.

Not that you have to marry him/her. Just beg the person to live with you – especially at mealtime and most especially when guests come to visit.

If you’re resolutely single, make sure that all your close friends are chefs living nearby.

blog-photo-hostas-and-clematis

Advice on Arranging Flowers:

Grow hostas. Not for the flowers, but the leaves. Grow hostas in pots or in a garden bed, but do grow them.

Their large green leaves make an easy centrepiece on your dinner or lunch table.

Should you feel aspirational, you may want to arrange them: place flowers in the centre of the vase. 

Advice on Inviting Guests to your Home:

Never invite tall people to your house. They are bound to see the dust of ages in spaces where you can’t reach/have never thought of cleaning. If you’re tall, then the same advice goes for very short guests. They’ll see the dust-balls in the corners of every room.

Advice for Guests:

Ask questions. If an Undomestic Diva invites you to dinner or lunch, there’s only one question that needs to be asked: “Who’s cooking?”

If, for example, I tell you I’m doing the cooking, you must instantly remember a previous and very urgent commitment for that date. If, however, I indicate that my husband is doing the cooking, you’re safe. Just show up on time, with a bottle of wine.

Blog Photo - Dinner on Plate

If, per chance, you are determined to visit me, then do what my close friends and relatives have done over the years: phone back and say, “We know how busy you can get, so we’re going to bring part of the meal.” That way, you’re guaranteed to have something edible or at the least, unburned.

Listen, friends — it’s not that I can’t cook at all. It’s that everything I’ve ever cooked for guests turns out badly. As for flower arrangements: the photo above was my best ever. I decided to quit while I was ahead!

 

 

A Good Home, Cakes, Humour

Witless Wednesday ….

This is what the thing was supposed to look like:

Blog Photo - Cake Picture in Recipe Book

And this is what it looked like when I made it, (just after I cut off a few slices, mind you):

Blog Photo - Cake Picture

Something wasn’t quite right…..

Blog Photo - Cake Comparative picture

As you can see, the upside down pear cake didn’t hold together, and didn’t look very appetizing either.

But when I collected my wits, I concluded that since these pears were extra-large, I should have added more batter.

As to why it looks so unappetizing – darned if I know.  And though it didn’t taste awful, it also didn’t taste great.

Arghhhh. The Undomestic Diva strikes again….

 

A Good Home, An Honest House, Cooking, Family Moments, Floral Arrangement, Garden Humour, Gardening, Giant Pumpkins, Humour

I Deserve a Prize, I Do

I was once the proud recipient of the Pumpkin Princess Prize – awarded by Scotland’s pre-eminent herb-blogger, The Hopeful Herbalist.

Was Miss Hopeful smoking her own herbs when she did so?

Don’t know, don’t care. I took the title seriously.

Pumpkin photo of our tiny pumpkin and peach

Actually, what my lovely blogger friend said was: “Award yourself the pumpkin princess crown!”

Which to my deliriously happy state of mind, meant much the same thing.

And now I wonder: if my tiny imperfect pumpkin could win me that regal honour, perhaps the next thing is my cooking? Or baking? Or floral arranging?  

Let’s face it: It takes tremendous effort to be really bad at something.

blog-photo-christmas-arrangement

A lot of trial and error is required. Mostly error, mind you. 

Take my cooking and baking (please — someone has to).

I famously made a two-ingredient dish – cauliflower and cheese – and forgot the cheese.

The harder I tried, the worse my cooking got. I forgot half the ingredients, or doubled them — or burned the dish. Husband added ketchup, salt or spices to everything I cooked. Yegads! Ketchup!

I’d  perfected the art of  truly bad cooking.

But do you hear anyone giving me the title for worst borscht?

Perfectly pathetic pie?

Instead, they flock to stories of delicious dishes and beautiful bouquets. I’ve never understood it.

blog-photo-flowers-with-alium-closer-e1403881941537

 Meanwhile, we lesser folk never give up trying.

And still, our creations are catastrophic.

But consider this:

It takes a lot of work — and maybe even a strange type of talent — to turn out truly awful stuff.

So I think it’s time our efforts were acknowledged. Don’t you?

(Tee hee….)

 

 

A Good Home, Canadian life, Couples, Family, Family Moments, Humour

To Make You Smile – A Bit of Foolishness

I’m not talking to my husband.

The problem  is that I can’t remember why.

“How can you be mad at a person and not remember why?” he asks in disbelief.

“I don’t know. I just know.”

Which makes about as much sense as holding a grudge for something you can’t remember.

“Did you have another dream?”

~~

There was the time, long ago, when I dreamed that a woman flirted with my husband.

I woke up the next morning and was very upset with him.

“Was she pretty, at least?” he asked.

“This is not a joking matter,” I replied huffily.

“But why are you blaming me? SHE was the one who flirted!”

“Well, you were probably encouraging her!”

“So you’re blaming ME because some woman flirted with me — in a  dream?” He asked.

“Yes!”

“But it wasn’t even MY dream!” he protested.

“That’s no excuse,” I pouted.

~~

Now, what the heck had he done this time? I couldn’t remember.

It wasn’t because of The Case of the Missing Ski Sock. 

Although, I was pretty mad at the time.

“Are you sure you didn’t put my sock somewhere?” he kept asking. “That’s my expensive ski sock.”

So of course I went looking.  Hours later, I’d completely re-organized his very messy closet – but still no sock.

He had learned early on that if he accused me of removing his keys, pen, wallet, cell phone, socks — you name it — I’d go searching till I found the darned thing, right where he had misplaced it. But it took me decades to catch on. Decades. Yes, I’m really that daft.

Now, if only I could recall why I’m mad at him this time.

How can I forgive and forget if I can’t remember?

~~

Dedicated to all loving partners who con their spouses into finding things they’ve lost — and to the loving, crazy people they live with.