Right now I am very angry and so in order to work this out, I'm going to blog about it, beginning with the above headline. Every Christmas I make coffee breads to give to our friends and neighbors. I normally dread it, for as soon as the Christmas cards have been sent, the coffee breads must be started. Last year I seriously considered not making them, but then decided to go ahead with it: it has become such a tradition and people really look forward to "our" coffee breads. We were invited to a Christmas Party this evening, so yesterday I mixed up the dough and the filling and we came home early from the condo this afternoon so that I could roll out and bake the first four of about 24 coffee breads that I will be making this week, bringing one plus a couple of bottles of wine as a hostess gift this evening. When we leave Barker alone in the house, we shut him in our bedroom. He can open the door, so we have had a lock installed on our bedroom door and we lock him in. Several months ago, C forgot to lock the door and Barker didn't let himself out while we were away, so we had stopped the locking business. Tonight I thought we'd better lock him in since I had 3 coffee breads cooling on racks in the kitchen. Well, C forgot to lock the door (even after I had asked him to AND put the key in the door and then gone about packaging up the bread and wine) and Barker let himself out and ate parts, but not all, of the three coffee breads! Not only were they ruined, but there was such a mess all over the countertops and the floor!!!!
There was minimal apology made and no offer to help clean up.
I am not a happy camper.
As I mopped the floor, I thought that I should have taken pictures of all of this for my blog. Well that made it almost humorous, but it isn't and I'm not laughing. I suppose tomorrow will be better.
On another note, we met with a realtor this morning and he will be listing our condo in a couple of weeks. Then we went on a hard hat tour of a Midtown highrise that is still under construction and won't be ready for occupancy until next November.
Here is a view from the 12th floor (there is no interior elevator at this point, so we climbed the 12 flights of stairs to view these units). Our present condo is in the complex (cream with red tiled roofs) to the right of the red crane and to the left of the brick building with the green roof:
Another view from the 12th floor, looking down Atlanta's infamous Peachtree Street. Just as I was about to snap the pic, the construction elevator came up the side of the building and parked right there on the right, partially obstructing our view! The nerve!
And here we are, still on the 12th floor, with C trying to explain to me why I shouldn't have a problem with the heights here because the amenity level with the pool is on the 4th floor, so we are actually only 8 floors up: piece o' cake!
CAN THIS MARRIAGE BE SAVED???????????????????
7 comments:
Put him in the doghouse. In fact, put them both in the doghouse. Cheesh! If it were MY marriage, it would be on verrrry thin ice.
I can just imagine the mess. Poor you!
I would really like to see a picture of your coffee bread on your blog.
Gladly a whole one ;-)
You have to put C in work. Let him do the breads!
I understand your feelings when you where at 12th floor in that high-rise building. 3rd or 4th floor is max of what I can take without getting giddy looking out the windows.
Your marriage can probably be saved ;-)))))
But next time you leave the house: Lock the bedroom door yourself!!
And good way to remember if you have locked a door (or something else) is to say loudly to yourself:
“Now I’ve locked the door”.
It helps me anyhow.
xo
What have they (Blogger I suppose) done to our HEADERS?
Eva
Poor you. Why do they always eat a bit of each one. The same thing happened with the tomatoes in our garden. Raccoons tasted almost every one.
I could NEVER live up that high. I am terrified of heights and I'd always be thinking what if there's a fire. I like the ground floor.
Oh, I would be so mad at both of them. Fortunately, Maggie is too small to get at any food, plus she is crate-trained and can't get out of her crate. Lisa had a lab who figured out how to open the crate and then she would open the refrigerator and raid it!!
Well, you've given me something for which to be thankful. I decided to skip all of the holiday baking this year because the joy had gone out of it for me. Honestly it had become just one more holiday chore. Having chucked it all, I woke up Saturday morning with the desire to make stollen, which we usually give has gifts. Somehow removing the commitment allowed me to reclaim the pleasure. With one massive batch of dough I was able to produce 8 good-sized loaves. We went out for the evening while they were still cooling. I didn't even think that the cats might bother them. Reading about your experience I'm grateful to have avoided a similar fate. I think I need to go kiss the cats. I agree with Eva's suggestion. Maybe it's time for C to lend a hand in the kitchen.
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