Martha Squirrel Stewart

I realize that I'm not much of a cook, but this just frosts me.


Let me explain the situation to you first.  We live near a wooded hillside and are visited by any number of furry creatures in our backyard.  So, in an effort to recycle as much as possible I compost and throw out leftovers for the animals.  There's always something  pleased to find our remains.  Until today.


I really do enjoy baking, but it's that short attention span that causes problems.  Multitasking is my nature, but if I forget to set the timer things can go badly fast.  This is why I have a sign in the kitchen that says when the smoke alarm goes off dinner is done.


I decided to bake some raisin bran mini muffins.  I like the smaller size because then I don't feel as guilty having more than one...or ten. In my excitement of surviving my cold and catching up on many nasty chores that had been waiting for me since before the Florida trip, I neglected to set the timer.


She Devil sauntered into the room with a knowing look and sneered at me right before the smoke alarm started to blare.  She has a better sense of impending disaster than I do.


Well, the muffins were scorched.  Or as Left Brain calls my baking....burnt offers to the G-ds.  


No problem.  I set them on top of the hot tub so they'd stay nice and warm and provide the squirrels comfortable seating while they enjoyed their brunch. My goodness but I'm considerate!


I couldn't figure out what the "thud...thud...thud" sounds were on the back porch.  Could it be the meter reader?  I looked outside.  No one was there.  But there were my muffins.


Hmmm.  I picked them up and tossed them further up the hill.  I must have dropped those on my way out.  I do believe senility is setting in.  The smoke has cleared now and the neighbors have been reassured that it was just me cooking.  They'd gotten used to a smoke free zone while I was gone.


Thud. Thud.  Thud.  What in blazes!  She Devil crossed her paws and smiled and nodded her head toward the patio doors.  The muffins were back.

Batter Up!

I went out to pick them up and throw them further up the hill and was smacked in the face by a flying muffin!  The squirrels have now become food critics.  Holy Cow!  Duck!  There's another one!
Who would have thought that small red squirrel would have such a mean overhand throw?


I put some peanuts out for them to make peace.


Long Live the Queen of Better Cooking