Firewater Friday - Bobbing for apples

Bob's your uncle . . . now there’s an interesting phrase . . . well, an interjection really.  If you’re not familiar with the expression it’s totally a Brit thing but it’s been around for over a hundred years and it’s used fairly commonly . . . across the pond.

It’s tacked on to the end of a sentence kind of like “that’s it!” to show how easy it is to do something.  Like making toast . . .  “Simply put a slice of bread in the toaster, push down the lever, and Bob’s your uncle.”

As the story goes, in the 1880’s there was a British Prime Minister by the name of Robert Cecil who appointed his unqualified and unpopular “nephew” Arthur Balfour . . . nephew is in quotes because back in the day that is how gentlemen referred to their bastard sons . . . to a series of high level government positions. 

Arty probably would not have risen so highly through the political ranks without the assistance of his prominent “uncle”.  But, Bob was his uncle which assured his success.

It could also derive from the slang phrase ‘all is bob’ meaning that everything is copacetic but that’s not as much fun and not nearly as colorful.

So, there you have it!

Candy Apple Martini




1 Fluid Ounce Vanilla Vodka

1 Fluid Ounce Apple Vodka

1 Fluid Ounce Butterscotch Schnapps

1 Fluid Ounce Cranberry Juice
1 Fluid Ounce Apple Juice


I used Pinnacle Whipped Vodka and Asolute Orient Apple Vodka.

Pour the vodka, apple vodka, butterscotch schnapps, and juices into a cocktail shaker over ice. Cover, and shake until the outside of the shaker has frosted. Strain into a chilled martini glass.

Even to this day, when I see a school bus it's just depressing to me.

When I was a kid, I would ride in the front of the bus on the way to and from school.  Primarily, because my big sister rode in the back and I wanted to be as far away from her as possible.

I tried to snag the first seat and eventually ended up having a friendly kid-to-grownup rapport with the bus driver . . . whose name was George.

George was a good guy, youngish (in his 30’s?) and was a nice enough fellow.

I remember one time when I was overcome with an irresistible urge to stick a thumbtack under his seat cushion  . . . pointed up.    I succumbed to my urge and sat back in my seat to observe the results.

You can imagine his reaction when he sat down and was impaled by the tack.  I don’t know if he got stuck in the butt or the . . . er . . . doo-dads, but he practically flew out of the seat.

Any good prankster would have sat by stoically and observed the results of her trick without reaction.  But not this joker . .  . no, I busted out laughing, practically peeing my pants in my glee.

He turned on me so quickly and viciously I thought he was going to throttle me right there and then.  Luckily, he regained his composure before anything happened that would have gotten me hurt and him fired.  He must have had remarkable self control.

Suffice to say, we weren’t on friendly terms after that.

Stupid kids.

I hated school. Even to this day, when I see a school bus it's just depressing to me. The poor little kids.


Dolly Parton

Thick as a brick

For those of you who know me and my hubby, you know we have a kitty and that we love our furry little girl.

Fuzzums . . . or The Fuzz . . . named so because, ironically enough, she’s, well, fuzzy. 

The Fuzz has some serious ‘tude and is quite a character.  I’ve had cats all my life and I have never had one with this much personality.  She’s a hoot and is truly a wonderful addition to our family.

The Fuzz has a plethora of toys, a blanket, a bed and . . . a brick.   Yes, you heard me right . . . a brick.  A big, ugly brick . . . and she loves it. 

If you’re wondering how a brick made its way into our household, my husband stuck it in with one of my Christmas presents last year so that I wouldn’t be able to guess what it was when I picked it up.  And, it never left because the cat immediately glommed onto it.

She rubs on it, sticks her paws inside it, lies up against it and generally just hangs out near it.

I understand that it’s cool and it’s rough, so it probably feels good when she’s lovin’ it.  And she does love it.  But, really . . . it’s just a brick.

She’s funny.

Sorry if i spit on ya'll... I kinda have a problem with doing that.

Spitting image . . . to bear a strong likeness to someone.

Where does the phrase come from?  Is it really wet, slimy and potentially carry spittle-borne pathogens?  Yes, actually it kind of is.

‘Spitting image’ comes from the expression ‘spit and image’ . . . ‘spit-n-image’.  As in you look so much like someone they may have just spit you out.  Yeah, just like that. 

So, where does the expression actually originate?  With God . . . yes, He who created the heavens and earth and man.  The Biblical God created Adam in His own image using spit and mud . . . using something of Himself to create man.

Similarly, along this same vein, when Haitian Voodoo and Philippine Kulam diabolists create effigies to influence or curse another they need something of that person in order to make the magic work.  They require a likeness of the person . . . the manikin . . . and something from the person such as fingernail clippings, hair, or spit.  They create a spitting image.

Pretty slick, eh?

LIBBY'S® Famous Pumpkin Pie

I’m all about making stuff from scratch . . . and I’ve made pumpkin pie from scratch . . . but this pie is about as close as you can get to the real thing.

3/4 Cup Granulated Sugar

1 Teaspoon Ground Cinnamon

1/2 Teaspoon Salt

1/2 Teaspoon Ground Ginger

1/4 Teaspoon Ground Cloves

2 Large Eggs

1 Can (15 Oz.) Libby's® 100% Pure Pumpkin

1 Can (12 Fl. Oz.) Evaporated Milk

1 Unbaked 9-Inch (4-Cup Volume) Deep-Dish Pie Shell

Whipped Cream (Optional)

Mix sugar, cinnamon, salt, ginger and cloves in small bowl. Beat eggs in large bowl. Stir in pumpkin and sugar-spice mixture. Gradually stir in evaporated milk.

Pour into pie shell.

Bake in preheated 425° F oven for 15 minutes. Reduce temperature to 350° F; bake for 40 to 50 minutes or until knife inserted near center comes out clean. Cool on wire rack for 2 hours. Serve immediately or refrigerate. Top with whipped cream before serving.

Sorry if i spit on ya'll... I kinda have a problem with doing that.

Joel Madden

I tried marijuana once. I did not inhale.

As a requirement of employment for most jobs I’ve ever applied for, I’ve had to offer a sample to be tested for illegal substances.  I've always taken such a thing seriously, after all . . . whether or not I got the job most likely hinged on the results of said test.

For anyone who’s been subjected to a pre-employment drug test, you know that it’s a painless procedure but it can be unnerving.  You’re handed a plastic cup and escorted to a bathroom.  You are told to urinate into the cup while someone waits right outside the door.  You are instructed to place the sample on the back of the toilet, not to flush and not to wash your hands until the waiting person take possession of the piddle.

A friend of mine has to take periodic drug tests to maintain his job.  He told me a story about one of these tests that had me practically peeing my pants . . . with laughter.

He did as he was told and urinated into the cup and placed it on the lid of the toilet tank.  When the woman came to retrieve it she looked at it but did not touch it.  He had filled the cup so full that it was literally domed at the top and there was no way she would be able to pick it up without spilling it all over the place.

Keep in mind my friend is not a malicious fellow, but he does have a quirky, impish sense of humor.

She said, “how am I supposed to pick that up.” 

Spontaneously he said, “carefully, I’d say”.

Needless to say, she was not amused.

Again, She goes to pick it up and  . . . again . . . hesitates.

“How am I going to pick that up without spilling it?”

Without thinking he said to the person testing his urine sample upon which his employment was hinged, “why don’t you take a sip a little off the top.”

Woman?  Definitely, NOT amused.

Him?  Miraculously, still employed. 

Hey . . . we're famous

Last February (2011) hubby and I took a winter trip to our favorite place in the whole wide world . . . the White Mountains of New Hampshire.

While we were there we went to one of our favorite brew pubs . . . Woodstock Station and Brewery.  While were there we did the brew tour and, as it turns out, they were shooting a commercial that day.  Guess who got to be in it?  You guessed it.  

See if you can spot us  . . . and if your ever in Woodstock, NH visit the Woodstock Inn, Station and Brewery.  You won't be disappointed.