Shoo-fly Pie

24 11 2008

I found a knife and have cut my way out of a cardboard box, just for little while. I’m taking a little break from the cleaning, the unpacking, the wondering where on earth I *just* saw that shoe- was it in a box? in a bag? in the garbage?? Who knows! Poor Oliver. First he has to wear his brother’s socks, and now he has only one shoe. The Curse of the Second Child.


Our new landlords are lovely. They moved out of the house we’re now living in, and left behind a few staples of the immediate-need variety (shower curtain (the fabric one on the outside was slightly used looking, but the vinyl one on the inside was clean and new), liquid hand soap in every bathroom/at every sink, a few hand towels, toilet paper in both bathrooms, lots of cleaning supplies, a few kitchen utensils (which helped get us through the Dark Times before I was finally able to unearth our own), light bulbs and garbage bags, etc.) for us. The met up with us our second night here, calling first to let us know they’d be stopping in very briefly, just to make sure things were good, in case we had any questions or needed anything. They stressed the fact that they’d make it quick, not wanting to bother us. They were quick, and also? They brought us (but really just me, of course) these:


How sweet! (They’ve since bloomed and look very nice on my new kitchen windowsill.) Good landlords, nice neighbors, AND I don’t have to show my ID every time I want to go to my house. I’m not missing the military living, my friends, not one bit.


I’ve been trying to get the majority of our large amount of crap unpacked before my sister gets here late Wednesday night, but Magic 8 Ball says that ain’t gonna happen. I’ve been at it pretty much nonstop* for a week now, so I have gotten an incredible amount done. I owe this ENTIRELY to my mom, who got here the day before we moved, with intentions of leaving a few days after. Unfortunately for her, her car broke down on her way back home, AND SHE IS STUCK HERE, muhahahaha! All a part of my evil plan to keep her here and make her my nanny! No, seriously, it totally sucks for her; it cost her major money to get her car fixed (and by ‘fixed’ I mean HAVE A WHOLE NEW ENGINE PUT IN), and it ruined her plans. But it does not suck at all for me, as my kids love her and have enjoyed hanging out with her while Mommy neglects them because there are still more boxes.

So anyway, it looks like our Thanksgiving guests might have to share their room with a box or two. Maybe sit on one at the dinner table, even. But that’s okay, I’m sure they’ll forgive me because 1, I’m not cooking the turkey! My mom, the professional turkey cooker, is! I got out of it! and 2, instead I am making the Shoo-fly Pie. I am very very tempted to bake a trial Shoo-fly pie, you know, just to make sure it’ll come out alright on The Big Day, and then eat the entire trial Shoo-fly pie all by myself, because, MMM, SHOO-FLY PIE. Also, I just love to say (and type, apparently) Shoo-fly pie. Shoo-fly pie. I dare you to find a pie with a name as entertaining.

*Exceptions include: eating, that time I laid down on the bed claiming that I was just thinking about what it was I was going to do next but fell asleep instead, the other night when Jeff and I made the mistake of going to see Twilight (we had a babysitter! this does not happen often!) on opening night (along with EVERY 13-16 YEAR OLD GIRL IN THE LAND and gah! Worse than actually experiencing the awkwardness of being a teenager is witnessing an awkward teenager in action. Or rather, a whole herd of them, all simultaneously lacking in confidence and overly confident in themselves. Constantly flipping their hair. Talking too loudly. Laughing at nothing. Swapping clothes right there in the line in the theater. Never. Again.), and tomorrow, when I will forgo cleaning/unpacking duties to go shopping instead.



2 responses

1 12 2008

Don’t judge me, but I have never had Shoo-fly Pie. I’m not even sure what’s in Shoo-Fly Pie. I’m pretty sure I always thought Shoo-fly Pie only existed in Mother Goose books. What’s next? Four and twenty blackbird pie?

Also, way to exploit your mother! I made mine sit in the backseat of the car and entertain the Buddha for an eight-hour drive. Twice. Yay for grandmas!

8 12 2008

aliasmother: I’d never had it before, either! Turns out, not very good. I mean, not AWFUL, but definitely the pie I’d choose to make again, were I in a pie-making mood.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: