Blueberry Upside-Down Mini Cakes


Blueberry Upside-Down Mini Cakes

Blueberry Upside-Down Mini Cakes

Rated as 4.33 out of 5 Stars
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Recipe By:Kim
“A nice way to use up some leftover blueberries.”

Ingredients

  • 2 cups frozen blueberries
  • 1 lemon, zested and juiced, divided
  • 2 tablespoons white sugar
  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 2 tablespoons brown sugar
  • 1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
  • 1/2 cup white sugar
  • 2 eggs
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
  • 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 3/4 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
  • 1 pinch salt
  • 1/2 cup milk

Directions

  1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Butter six 4-inch ramekins and place in a 9×13-inch baking pan.
  2. Mix blueberries, lemon zest, and 2 tablespoons white sugar together in a small bowl.
  3. Microwave 2 tablespoons butter in a microwave-safe bowl until melted, about 30 seconds. Stir in brown sugar. Spread equal amounts into the bottom of each ramekin. Divide the blueberry mixture evenly into the ramekins.
  4. Beat 1/2 cup butter and 1/2 cup white sugar in a large bowl using an electric mixer until fluffy. Add eggs 1 at a time, mixing after each addition. Mix in lemon juice and vanilla extract. Add flour, baking powder, ginger, and salt; stir until combined. Mix in milk. Spoon batter into the ramekins over the blueberry mixture.
  5. Bake in the preheated oven until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, 25 to 35 minutes.
  6. Let cool in the ramekins for 5 minutes. Run a knife around the edges of the cakes; invert onto a plate.

May I Be Bewitched?


This morning brought a new day in a new week for a day at the Day Program. Al  was very tired this morning when I got him up. I know he didn’t sleep well last night after being so agitated and crying.

Once I had him up he ate breakfast. He had oatmeal with sugar and butter and a thin layer of peanut butter toast. He could not feed himself the oatmeal, so I helped him with that. He did eat his toast by himself.

After breakfast I washed him all up and got him dressed and ready to go. He wanted one of his vintage cars to take with him. It reminded me of when I used to do the “show and tell” at school. Do you remember those days?

He got on the bus and I came in and took my medicine and ate breakfast. I tried to answer some emails but the Hospice Nurse called and said she would be in to see Al in about an hour, so my time was up. I needed to get presentable.

We met Al just at his lunch time. He was finishing up. He was still having the side pain and the nurse thought maybe he had to go “number 2″ or it was a muscle from where he leans so badly in his chair.

After the meeting with him was over she and I spoke alone and I discussed my issues with her. I told her of the conversation he was having about death and blaming himself. I talked to her about the lack of wanting his pain medications.

She said that since he is mentally challenged he may not always make sound judgements so go ahead and give him one of his pain pills regularly three times a day along with his regular medications. I am to save the more powerful ones for visible pains. Along with his pain patch I hope this helps him. I just hate to see him suffer even though I know the reason he is trying to not take them is because he is wishing that now that he is home; somehow the disease would disappear.

She also said that she would contact the Spiritual Man in Hospice (minister) and have him talk to Al to try to help him accept what is truly happening. He did contact me and met Al at 3pm today.

When Al got off the bus he was very quiet. I assumed that he was thinking about the meeting with the minister earlier. But instead the first words out of his mouth was his side was hurting and he was at a  number five out of 10 in pain.

I asked him,”Did you tell staff that you were hurting?”

“Yes, but she said she isn’t allowed to give me any medicine.”

“Did she find someone who could?”

“No, I never got any. I am hurting, can you give me something to help the pain?”

I try not to jump to conclusions based on Al’s words alone as he does get confused at times. Yet I believe there is some truth in there somewhere. I receive a communication book nightly letting me know about Al’s day. It said that Al had a BM and that he had a good day.  So I sat down and wrote in it about what Al said and asked if this was true. I asked them to call me in the morning when they read my note.

I hope for Al’s sake that he is wrong. I can’t believe all the frustration we have had this weekend over pain medications and then he asked and didn’t get any. I will find out the truth in the morning, I can guarantee it.

The pain radiates into his daily living as he didn’t want any supper. I managed to get him to eat about half and he ate two cookies, chocolate chip, and he was done. I washed him up and he wanted to go to bed. I just checked on him and he is already asleep. I wish I could just zap my nose like Samantha on Bewitched and make everything all better for him.Samantha-bewitched-2443736-1024-768

Continuing Story Part 8


The next Dahlia woke up to darkness. She sat there blinking her eyes, but no shadow came into play. She tried crawling out of bed to get her robe on and tripped over her slippers. This caused a loud noise, which brought the teacher directly from her bed to Dahlia’s bedroom.

The teacher knelt over and helped pick her up and sat her down on the bed and checked her out for any cuts or blood. After seeing nothing, the teacher asked  what had happened, had she fallen, and Dahlia burst into tears, saying she could not see.

The teacher laid her down in her bed, and told her she would be back, that she  was going to go call the doctor, and told her to please lie still and try not to get out of bed. The teacher could be heard going through the house, sounding like fast running horses.

In mid morning, the doctor came over with his special tools and checked Dahlia’s eyes out, and found that a few of her blood vessels had broken in both eyes, and there was no way to fix this. She was blind. Dahlia broke out in wails and the teacher came to her side and put her arm around her and tried to comfort her, but it did not work. She told Dahlia that she was going to walk the doctor to the door, and that she would be back in a few minutes.

On the way to the door to let him out, she asked him if there was something that could be done and he shook his head no. There was no fixing the already damaged vessels. She thanked him for coming and he told her if they needed him, just to let him know.

Teacher walked back to the bedroom where Dahlia was still sobbing and sat down in the rocker across from the bed in silence. All that could be heard in the room was gasping and cries. The teacher felt helpless and didn’t know what to say or do, but she knew that they had to move forth in their lives.

She stood up and told Dahlia that she was going to go prepare them some breakfast, and they would talk when she got back to the room. Dahlia told her she didn’t want any breakfast and that she wanted to be left alone.

The teacher walked out of the room, ignoring the request, and went to the kitchen and started breakfast. Two hard-boiled eggs, fresh fruit, toast with jelly and hot tea. She brought the tray back to Dahlia’s room and rested it on her dresser. Dahlia did not move towards her, in fact, she rolled over the other direction and pulled the covers up over her head.

The teacher said that they must eat, that they neither would be able to think clearly about what to do with this new information if they didn’t have nourishment. She took the blankets back and helped her sit up in her bed, and then brought a small table over and placed her breakfast on the table. She took Dahlia’s hands and helped her feel where each food and silver ware was, showed her where the cup was placed. There was no sound, so teacher went back to the rocker and balancing her breakfast on her lap, she began to eat and think about what their next move was.

She had her first bite swallowed and all of a sudden a loud crash was heard, and food was splattered everywhere. On the bed, the floor, and her bed-clothes. Dahlia laid back down and covered herself back up, and said to the teacher, go away, leave me alone.

The teacher continued to eat, ignoring the outburst from Dahlia, and when she finished she took her tray down along with the broken dish pieces, and then brought back a mop and bucket and cleaned up the floor.

She left Dahlia alone, to tend to her grieving and did not offer to help clean her clothing or bed up. In the teacher’s mind this was bad, but she knew of people who had life much worse, and they would work around this. To Dahlia, life was over. Her dreams had vanished along with her sight. Dahlia went deep into herself, never wanting to live again.

The teacher checked in on her periodically to see if she was alright, but for the fact of only getting up to  use the restroom, she never left her bed. Meanwhile, the teacher made a trip to the school and explained the absence of the past day of why Dahlia was not in school.

The school personal called her into a small quiet room and had her wait here. Within a few moments two other personal came in to the room and they all sat at the table. They stated what a fine girl Dahlia was, and that she worked hard and had outstanding grades, but, there was no special equipment here at the school for someone who was blind. They hated to excuse her from this school, they hated seeing her go, but they had no choice. They dropped Dahlia from the classes.

The teacher sat there with tears flowing down her cheeks. Her own visions of this beautiful girl not being able to dance and teach had been broken also. She held out her hand to shake and tell her good-byes. They went to where Dahlia’s books were kept and gathered them up and they all walked to the front door, letting the teacher out and the door closing softly behind them. This was it, it was over. So hard to get into school, and so easy to be let go. How could this happen, and what could be done about it. These were all thoughts that were racing around in her head, on her walk home to a student that refused to get out of bed, thinking that her life was totally over.

English: Line art drawing of a dahlia.

English: Line art drawing of a dahlia. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My Husband Used To Ask Me This.


Give that woman a Special Award
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A man came home from work and found his 3 children outside, still in their pyjamas,
playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn around garden.
The door of his wife’s car was open, as was the front door to the house and no sign of the dog, walking in the door, he found ..an even bigger mess.
A lamp had been knocked over, the throw rug was against one wall, In the front room the TV was on loudly with the cartoon channel, the family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing.

In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on the counter, the fridge door was open wide, dog food was spilled on the floor, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by the back door.

He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles of clothes, looking for his wife.
He was worried she might be ill, or that something serious had happened.

He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its way out the bathroom door.
As he peered inside he found wet towels, scummy soap and more toys strewn over the floor.

Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and toothpaste had been smeared over the mirror and walls. As he rushed to the bedroom, he found his wife still curled up in the bed in her pyjamas, reading a novel…
She looked up at him, smiled and asked how his day went.

He looked at her bewildered and asked, ‘What happened here today?’

She again smiled and answered,
‘You know every day when you come home from work and you ask me what in the world do I do all day?…
”Yes,” was his incredulous reply..
She answered, ‘Well, today I didn’t do it.’

Gotta Love Getting Older


Awake is the New Sleep (2005)

Awake is the New Sleep (2005) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As I lay my head down to sleep

I pray that I do not wake

To pee, to drink or look around

I pray I will sleep oh so sound.

As I rise and lift my head

I pray I don’t fall down

I pray I make it to the pot

Not dripping all over what  I got.

As I sit down to eat my breakfast

I hope I don’t make a mess

I pray that each bite hits it mark

And that each piece don’t taste like bark.

I hope that as I putter around

Inside my house today

That I don’t have to bend over at all

And cause my big fat butt to fall.

I ask that my mind stays with me

While we dine tonight together

And that my teeth don’t lose their grip

And end up floating in my coffee to sip.

I thank you God for this beautiful day

That you have given to me to use

I pray that when I rise once more

That I won’t fall into the doors.