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( Glazed Pumpkin Muffins )
( Sugar Crack )
( Butterfinger Bites )
( Homemade Thin Mints )
( Peanut Butter Blossoms )
ENJOY!
( Sugar Crack )
( Butterfinger Bites )
( Homemade Thin Mints )
( Peanut Butter Blossoms )
ENJOY!
Tags:
KAHLUA FUDGE
( ... )
Chocolate Caramel Dreams
( ... )
COFFEE TOFFEE
( ... )
I have used ELEVEN POUNDS OF BUTTER AND 20 POUNDS OF SUGAR, so far. Holy diabetic coma and clogged arteries, Batman. I've worked hard for the past few days.
( other stuff... )
( ... )
Chocolate Caramel Dreams
( ... )
COFFEE TOFFEE
( ... )
I have used ELEVEN POUNDS OF BUTTER AND 20 POUNDS OF SUGAR, so far. Holy diabetic coma and clogged arteries, Batman. I've worked hard for the past few days.
( other stuff... )
Life has, again, eaten me whole. I was right in the middle of costumes for La Cage (Literally, RIGHT in the middle, working from a ginormous stack of mending and altering) when the artistic director of the theatre asked...
AD: "Are you auditioning for In the Next Room?"
Carrie. (Thinks about what that would entail. Blushes furiously.) Um... No.
AD. "Would you costume the show?"
And because I'm a complete and total sucker for all things Victorian, I said yes. Giddily, most likely. While giggling.
( Photographs )
So life, alas, she has not stopped. I've jumped from one project into another, not even waiting before the first one was finished. I'm about to wrap up In the Next Room (my part, anyway), and wonder what I'll do once it's over. I've got a lot of sitting planned. And I've got some television watching lined up. Actual watching, not just listening while I have a lap full of alterations to do. I'm psyched. On Sunday, however, I took some time and did something I've not done in a rather long time. I baked.
I rejoiced when I found this recipe. A fall cake without even a hint of a pumpkin? I remember: I actually gasped. (If you know me, you're aware of the violent irrational irritation I get in reaction to the barrage of pumpkin-related things in the Fall. It very nearly pisses me off.) In any case, Nolan loved this cake. He even ate it again the next day, which is nigh unto unthinkable, for him. And it made the house smell fantastic.
( Recipe )
Enjoy. :)
AD: "Are you auditioning for In the Next Room?"
Carrie. (Thinks about what that would entail. Blushes furiously.) Um... No.
AD. "Would you costume the show?"
And because I'm a complete and total sucker for all things Victorian, I said yes. Giddily, most likely. While giggling.
( Photographs )
So life, alas, she has not stopped. I've jumped from one project into another, not even waiting before the first one was finished. I'm about to wrap up In the Next Room (my part, anyway), and wonder what I'll do once it's over. I've got a lot of sitting planned. And I've got some television watching lined up. Actual watching, not just listening while I have a lap full of alterations to do. I'm psyched. On Sunday, however, I took some time and did something I've not done in a rather long time. I baked.
I rejoiced when I found this recipe. A fall cake without even a hint of a pumpkin? I remember: I actually gasped. (If you know me, you're aware of the violent irrational irritation I get in reaction to the barrage of pumpkin-related things in the Fall. It very nearly pisses me off.) In any case, Nolan loved this cake. He even ate it again the next day, which is nigh unto unthinkable, for him. And it made the house smell fantastic.
( Recipe )
Enjoy. :)
I had this at a birthday/anniversary/fourth of July party last week and it was one of those desserts I found myself thinking about all week. So much so that I decided I had to make one myself. It's moist and sweet inside with a caramelized and crunchy outer crust. Served with whipped cream or ice cream (or in an ideal world, both), it's just plain awesome on a plate.
( Recipe and pictures... )
( Recipe and pictures... )
I'm going to share something very special with you today. Really special. Extra special. Mega special.
Come closer.
No, really. Closer.
I'm going to tell you how to make caramel corn.
Oh, caramel corn. Or Fiddle Faddle. Or Poppycock. Or Cracker Jack. Whatever you choose to call it, it is a wondrous thing, and a gastronomic delight to behold.
Make this. It. Is. AWESOME. And I had all the ingredients in the house without having to make a trip to the store.
( I don't want to bully you, but you need to make this RIGHT NOW. )
Come closer.
No, really. Closer.
I'm going to tell you how to make caramel corn.
Oh, caramel corn. Or Fiddle Faddle. Or Poppycock. Or Cracker Jack. Whatever you choose to call it, it is a wondrous thing, and a gastronomic delight to behold.
Make this. It. Is. AWESOME. And I had all the ingredients in the house without having to make a trip to the store.
( I don't want to bully you, but you need to make this RIGHT NOW. )
Ahhhh, friends. It's summertime. Almost. I live in Texas and it's hot. And school's almost out, and I keep my sunroof open all the time, so all that together equals summertime.
And summertime equals cool drinks.
Usually cool drinks equals gin and tonic or mojitos or daquiris.
Don't you love how I've gone all analytical and equation-oriented?
Yeah, me neither.
I digress. Today we're going non-alcoholic and I'm going to teach you nice folks how to make a pretty fabulous iced coffee.
Oh, I hear you thinking out there. Iced coffee? Pfft, Carrie, you pour the coffee that's leftover in the pot over some ice cubes. Done and done.
No. No, this is better. You gotta trust me. I know about exactly three things: Dramatic interp, the care and feeding of little boys, and how to make a dynamite iced coffee. (Technically, I might know more than that, but those three are somewhere at the top of the list.)
So. Iced coffee. Also known as NECTAR OF THE GODS.
Okay. So here we go.
( Tutorial! )
And summertime equals cool drinks.
Usually cool drinks equals gin and tonic or mojitos or daquiris.
Don't you love how I've gone all analytical and equation-oriented?
Yeah, me neither.
I digress. Today we're going non-alcoholic and I'm going to teach you nice folks how to make a pretty fabulous iced coffee.
Oh, I hear you thinking out there. Iced coffee? Pfft, Carrie, you pour the coffee that's leftover in the pot over some ice cubes. Done and done.
No. No, this is better. You gotta trust me. I know about exactly three things: Dramatic interp, the care and feeding of little boys, and how to make a dynamite iced coffee. (Technically, I might know more than that, but those three are somewhere at the top of the list.)
So. Iced coffee. Also known as NECTAR OF THE GODS.
Okay. So here we go.
( Tutorial! )
The last post was a bit dramatic. It's an occupational hazard. Apologies all around.
Nolan teases me that I'm annoyingly even tempered, but only because I store up all of my upset for six months at a time, until I explode and have an "I Feel" day, spewing hot, molten crazy on everyone in my immediate vicinity. Those days are rare, but they do happen. They hurt a little, too. I need to work on letting it out little by little. A crazy release valve, if you will.
Anyway. Moving forward. Onwards and upwards. Adapt and overcome.
The show is contained, for the time being. The next two weeks will undoubtedly be grueling, but I can actually see fun from where I am. It's promising. The thing that's motivating? The principles are having such a good time; they're funny, talented and well rehearsed, so the ensemble will just be a lovely icing on an already wonderful and yummy cake.
Forgive the food metaphors. I've got cinnamon bun bread in the oven for our breakfast, and the smell is driving me a little nutty.
I tried on the cute cowgirl costume from the last post, and... I could look worse. Talk about barely contained. I'm going to have to do some strategic work with duct tape and bailing wire so that all my business stays where it belongs. A friend of mine says that it's all about the base coat of paint. SO true.
So anyway. Things are looking up. It's Easter, and I do love this particular holiday. His sacrifice puts my problems in perspective as trivial and petty, comparatively. Plus, I made myself a new Easter dress, and always enjoy the coloring and hunting eggs aspect of the weekend.
So have a happy Easter, and may the Easter bunny bring you all the Cadbury creme eggs your heart desires.
Nolan teases me that I'm annoyingly even tempered, but only because I store up all of my upset for six months at a time, until I explode and have an "I Feel" day, spewing hot, molten crazy on everyone in my immediate vicinity. Those days are rare, but they do happen. They hurt a little, too. I need to work on letting it out little by little. A crazy release valve, if you will.
Anyway. Moving forward. Onwards and upwards. Adapt and overcome.
The show is contained, for the time being. The next two weeks will undoubtedly be grueling, but I can actually see fun from where I am. It's promising. The thing that's motivating? The principles are having such a good time; they're funny, talented and well rehearsed, so the ensemble will just be a lovely icing on an already wonderful and yummy cake.
Forgive the food metaphors. I've got cinnamon bun bread in the oven for our breakfast, and the smell is driving me a little nutty.
I tried on the cute cowgirl costume from the last post, and... I could look worse. Talk about barely contained. I'm going to have to do some strategic work with duct tape and bailing wire so that all my business stays where it belongs. A friend of mine says that it's all about the base coat of paint. SO true.
So anyway. Things are looking up. It's Easter, and I do love this particular holiday. His sacrifice puts my problems in perspective as trivial and petty, comparatively. Plus, I made myself a new Easter dress, and always enjoy the coloring and hunting eggs aspect of the weekend.
So have a happy Easter, and may the Easter bunny bring you all the Cadbury creme eggs your heart desires.
★ I have a day ahead of doctor visits. I like these particular doctors as people, but still. I'd rather be tied up, gagged and dragged behind a truck on a gravel road than go.
★ Oh, barista at the coffee shop, do not pretend you don't know what "medium" means. Every one of those shops calls it something different, and I'm not bending to their collective wills. MEDIUM. Do not look at me with a confused puppy face. You can figure this out on your own. Try harder.
★ It's Thursday, and really my favorite day of the week. Even after 8 years of teaching for the ALT Academy and fifteen years (WOAH. I've been teaching for fifteen years? When did that happen?) of teaching adolescents, I still really, really love it. It's the highlight of the week, most times. They're talented and funny and WANT to be there, which is indeed the most important thing. And they're not worried about making utter fools of themselves, which is KEY for theatre. Thursday also means Bones, and thus David Boreanaz. Yet another perk. :D
★ I locked myself out of the house before eight o'clock this morning. I got back in because I am a ninja. That's a picture for you, right? Me scaling the back porch ceiling and dropping through a window? We'll just say that's what I did to get back in.
★ Rehearsals are better. Still not fantastic, but better. I left smiling instead of crying last night, so I'm hopeful for the rest of the week.
★ I made these for home group last night. They were a hit! And cute, which is really why I wanted to make them in the first place.
( Easy cookie recipe... )
★ There's a quote (a Chinese proverb, maybe?) that I've had on my theatre folder for years. "Tell me what you love, and I'll tell you who you are." What do you love? Think about it. It's all deep and stuff.
★ Oh, barista at the coffee shop, do not pretend you don't know what "medium" means. Every one of those shops calls it something different, and I'm not bending to their collective wills. MEDIUM. Do not look at me with a confused puppy face. You can figure this out on your own. Try harder.
★ It's Thursday, and really my favorite day of the week. Even after 8 years of teaching for the ALT Academy and fifteen years (WOAH. I've been teaching for fifteen years? When did that happen?) of teaching adolescents, I still really, really love it. It's the highlight of the week, most times. They're talented and funny and WANT to be there, which is indeed the most important thing. And they're not worried about making utter fools of themselves, which is KEY for theatre. Thursday also means Bones, and thus David Boreanaz. Yet another perk. :D
★ I locked myself out of the house before eight o'clock this morning. I got back in because I am a ninja. That's a picture for you, right? Me scaling the back porch ceiling and dropping through a window? We'll just say that's what I did to get back in.
★ Rehearsals are better. Still not fantastic, but better. I left smiling instead of crying last night, so I'm hopeful for the rest of the week.
★ I made these for home group last night. They were a hit! And cute, which is really why I wanted to make them in the first place.
( Easy cookie recipe... )
★ There's a quote (a Chinese proverb, maybe?) that I've had on my theatre folder for years. "Tell me what you love, and I'll tell you who you are." What do you love? Think about it. It's all deep and stuff.
Tags:
Hey, reader! Watch me pull a rabbit outta my hat.
Fifty billion points if you can name that cartoon. Only two if you look at the icon.
Aaaaand, scene. This is one of those 'something for everyone' posts. Don't like whatever drivel seeps out in the paragraph you're reading? Skip to the next. That one might be better. You can hope, anyway.
Here goes.
★ I, and consequently anyone older than me, am/are no longer allowed to use the following phrase: "I'm gonna get my _________ on," where the blank is arbitrarily a noun, verb or adjective, depending on the speaker. Example: "I'm gonna go get my dance on," to explain to those surrounding the speaker that she might like to dance. January 14th, 1973. Check the date and obey the rules. Thanks.
★ Gay men make better shop attendants than straight men or even women. (Find me a straight man in retail or musical theatre. The ratio is skewed.) When I proclaimed this to my husband, he asked, "Even in the men's section?" To which I replied, "Especially in the men's section! How's a straight man going to help another straight man, fashion-wise? They'd all come out looking like... you. Honey." He conceded the point, I think.
★ Carrie Fisher's Wishful Drinking. Saw the show on Broadway. Laughed hysterically. Read the book in an afternoon. Laughed again. Funny, funny stuff. Admittedly, I'm an easy room, but it'll also make you glad for your own, relatively normal life.
★ Sometimes I get disappointed with people to the point that I never want to leave the house. (Where my house is Mt. Crumpit and I just stand at the door and glare down at the Whos of the world.) And then a few days go by and I take a deep breath, sigh heavily and give the world a metaphorical raspberry because, honestly, people are punks and they always will be. My bounceback time is faster, and for that I'm grateful.
★ I made these last night for home group, among other things. I LOVE THEM. In a completely dangerous-to-my-butt way.
★ Ever listen to The Splendid Table on NPR? (Listen now, because I think big brother's cutting it, soon, the jerkface.) My SIL turned me on to the program, and the Supper Tart. It's puff pastry and whatever toppings you like and a drizzle of olive oil. My favorites are chicken, tomatoes, onion and basil, but you can do whatever. Try it. You won't be sorry.
★ Stay tuned: After sewing for other people all spring, I'm going to make myself some dresses. This pattern (Knee length): Only I got black fabric and a green print to practice on and a red and black Chinese cherry blossom silk for the fancy one. Pattern covers are always truly hideous fabrics. Why?
★ And a friend who works at a furniture store in town brought me bunches of fabric swatches, out of which I'm going to make a fresh batch of bags and purses.Want one? Offer expired!
Fifty billion points if you can name that cartoon. Only two if you look at the icon.
Aaaaand, scene. This is one of those 'something for everyone' posts. Don't like whatever drivel seeps out in the paragraph you're reading? Skip to the next. That one might be better. You can hope, anyway.
Here goes.
★ I, and consequently anyone older than me, am/are no longer allowed to use the following phrase: "I'm gonna get my _________ on," where the blank is arbitrarily a noun, verb or adjective, depending on the speaker. Example: "I'm gonna go get my dance on," to explain to those surrounding the speaker that she might like to dance. January 14th, 1973. Check the date and obey the rules. Thanks.
★ Gay men make better shop attendants than straight men or even women. (Find me a straight man in retail or musical theatre. The ratio is skewed.) When I proclaimed this to my husband, he asked, "Even in the men's section?" To which I replied, "Especially in the men's section! How's a straight man going to help another straight man, fashion-wise? They'd all come out looking like... you. Honey." He conceded the point, I think.
★ Carrie Fisher's Wishful Drinking. Saw the show on Broadway. Laughed hysterically. Read the book in an afternoon. Laughed again. Funny, funny stuff. Admittedly, I'm an easy room, but it'll also make you glad for your own, relatively normal life.
★ Sometimes I get disappointed with people to the point that I never want to leave the house. (Where my house is Mt. Crumpit and I just stand at the door and glare down at the Whos of the world.) And then a few days go by and I take a deep breath, sigh heavily and give the world a metaphorical raspberry because, honestly, people are punks and they always will be. My bounceback time is faster, and for that I'm grateful.
★ I made these last night for home group, among other things. I LOVE THEM. In a completely dangerous-to-my-butt way.
★ Ever listen to The Splendid Table on NPR? (Listen now, because I think big brother's cutting it, soon, the jerkface.) My SIL turned me on to the program, and the Supper Tart. It's puff pastry and whatever toppings you like and a drizzle of olive oil. My favorites are chicken, tomatoes, onion and basil, but you can do whatever. Try it. You won't be sorry.
★ Stay tuned: After sewing for other people all spring, I'm going to make myself some dresses. This pattern (Knee length): Only I got black fabric and a green print to practice on and a red and black Chinese cherry blossom silk for the fancy one. Pattern covers are always truly hideous fabrics. Why?
★ And a friend who works at a furniture store in town brought me bunches of fabric swatches, out of which I'm going to make a fresh batch of bags and purses.
I love cookbooks. Did you know?
My sister, mother and I have been known to sit down with a cookbook and a cup of coffee and read the recipes like they were a novel - except that we also have a pen and paper, scribbling notes about the cast of characters as we go. Anyway, I have a love affair with cookbooks - I have more cookbooks than pairs of shoes, if that tells you anything.
( Yummy pictures! )
Without the last two ingredients, these are 81 calories apiece. But I live dangerously. And by dangerously, I mean with butter on standby at all times. I gotta be me.
Enjoy!
My sister, mother and I have been known to sit down with a cookbook and a cup of coffee and read the recipes like they were a novel - except that we also have a pen and paper, scribbling notes about the cast of characters as we go. Anyway, I have a love affair with cookbooks - I have more cookbooks than pairs of shoes, if that tells you anything.
( Yummy pictures! )
Without the last two ingredients, these are 81 calories apiece. But I live dangerously. And by dangerously, I mean with butter on standby at all times. I gotta be me.
Enjoy!
I'm kidding.
Mostly.
Because if anyone asks whether or not I've been sampling as I go this afternoon, I'll deny it.
Even if it's true. :D
Because tomorrow I'm embarking on a regime that does NOT involve putting everything I see into my mouth, because It's fanfreakingtastic, and because I love ya, I give you:
EGGNOG!
( Egg to the Nog! )
Mostly.
Because if anyone asks whether or not I've been sampling as I go this afternoon, I'll deny it.
Even if it's true. :D
Because tomorrow I'm embarking on a regime that does NOT involve putting everything I see into my mouth, because It's fanfreakingtastic, and because I love ya, I give you:
EGGNOG!
( Egg to the Nog! )
Last year I did gift bags with homemade baked goods for my husband's clients. This year I'm getting more than a 5 day heads up on this, so yay.
Help me decide? For all the Food Geeks and Cookie Connoisseurs, I have included pictures and links.
( If you're into Food Porn and recipes and stuff. )
[Poll #1653993]
Help me decide? For all the Food Geeks and Cookie Connoisseurs, I have included pictures and links.
( If you're into Food Porn and recipes and stuff. )
[Poll #1653993]
Even though I've kind of gone off (the canon of) Harry Potter - I loathed the last book and I haven't seen the latest movie - that didn't stop me from doing this.
I made Butterbeer, y'all.
Oh, yes, I did.
( Because I'm THAT dorky. )
And that's all.
I made Butterbeer, y'all.
Oh, yes, I did.
( Because I'm THAT dorky. )
And that's all.
Tags:
There are constants in the world. There are things that never change. There are things you just KNOW you can count on.
*E will always equal MC squared.
*Nolan will always tell me that I look beautiful, even if I have bedhead and haven't showered for two days.
*Pamela Anderson's breasts will forever and always point northward.
*The Dewey Decimal System
*Stevie Nicks' hair
*The speed of light in a vacuum.
*Carrie's consummate hatred of all things gourd.
However, my dear friends, I've been introduced to something whose utter and complete deliciousness will not be denied. Are you ready for this, people? Pay close attention. It is...The Pumpkin Muffin.
It's wonderful. Simply amazing. And it makes me wonder if, perhaps, I might have misjudged all gourds. Is squash really good? Is zucchini something that I should try more often? Should I actually order the pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks?
(Right now, from the general direction of Louisville, Kentucky, I can hear my sister's shout of disbelief, and from Arlington, Texas, my mother's smugness.)
I just don't know, anymore. Up is down and left is right! Should I try tapioca pudding again? Is celery really not as nasty as I've always made it out to be? Are liver and onions really a taste treat? Are raisins actually good in cookies? IS TEQUILA REALLY NOT NAUSEATING (and something that I can really get over, given the events of October 1992)?
*snort*
I'm not drinking tequila. I haven't lost my damn mind, thankyouverymuch. You live and learn. And hoo, boy, did I ever learn.
Seriously, though, it does make me wonder if my tastes have changed. I'm going to have to do some exploring, that's for sure. Although I remain, as ever, skeptical. While I'm over here thinking about it, here's a recipe and how to for you nice folks. It comes from my friend![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
filia_umbrae, whose entry was one of the winner's of my July contest this year. She entered Pumpkin Bread, and I made pumpkin muffins, because there's no slicing that way and I'm lazy.
( Pumpkin Muffin Recipe! )
*E will always equal MC squared.
*Nolan will always tell me that I look beautiful, even if I have bedhead and haven't showered for two days.
*Pamela Anderson's breasts will forever and always point northward.
*The Dewey Decimal System
*Stevie Nicks' hair
*The speed of light in a vacuum.
*Carrie's consummate hatred of all things gourd.
However, my dear friends, I've been introduced to something whose utter and complete deliciousness will not be denied. Are you ready for this, people? Pay close attention. It is...The Pumpkin Muffin.
It's wonderful. Simply amazing. And it makes me wonder if, perhaps, I might have misjudged all gourds. Is squash really good? Is zucchini something that I should try more often? Should I actually order the pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks?
(Right now, from the general direction of Louisville, Kentucky, I can hear my sister's shout of disbelief, and from Arlington, Texas, my mother's smugness.)
I just don't know, anymore. Up is down and left is right! Should I try tapioca pudding again? Is celery really not as nasty as I've always made it out to be? Are liver and onions really a taste treat? Are raisins actually good in cookies? IS TEQUILA REALLY NOT NAUSEATING (and something that I can really get over, given the events of October 1992)?
*snort*
I'm not drinking tequila. I haven't lost my damn mind, thankyouverymuch. You live and learn. And hoo, boy, did I ever learn.
Seriously, though, it does make me wonder if my tastes have changed. I'm going to have to do some exploring, that's for sure. Although I remain, as ever, skeptical. While I'm over here thinking about it, here's a recipe and how to for you nice folks. It comes from my friend
filia_umbrae, whose entry was one of the winner's of my July contest this year. She entered Pumpkin Bread, and I made pumpkin muffins, because there's no slicing that way and I'm lazy.( Pumpkin Muffin Recipe! )
At least my BFA in Theatre Arts didn't go completely to waste.
After last year's complete and utter costume cuteness, this year my kids are going as a vampire and a zombie.
Boys. What are you going to do.
When they were smaller we made cupcakes together. Now we make fake blood.
Recipe for Edible Blood by Carrie Leigh
( Not for the faint of heart! )
Ew. I just grossed myself out. Sorry.
After last year's complete and utter costume cuteness, this year my kids are going as a vampire and a zombie.
Boys. What are you going to do.
When they were smaller we made cupcakes together. Now we make fake blood.
Recipe for Edible Blood by Carrie Leigh
( Not for the faint of heart! )
Ew. I just grossed myself out. Sorry.
If you know me at all, you know that Crème Brûlée is my very favorite dessert. I'd take it over any sort of chocolate, fancy concoction, and really like it very plain. I don't even like added flavors. (With the exception of Coffee Caramel Crème Brûlée. The recipe is here.) Just TYPING the words 'Crème Brûlée' makes me a little fluttery. So when I found this recipe, I knew it was kismet.
Fate.
Bliss.
Destiny for my thighs to have a little setback in their reduction. So have a recipe.
( Crème Brûlée Cheesecake Bars )
Fate.
Bliss.
Destiny for my thighs to have a little setback in their reduction. So have a recipe.
( Crème Brûlée Cheesecake Bars )
I got wind of this recipe on Facebook.
Facebook. It's good for more than merely ruining your anonymity.
Anyway, I tweaked the recipe, as I am wont to do. Which means I used a different vinegar and different shaped pasta.
So now, I claim this recipe as my own. Sorry, Nancy. And Terri, from whom Nancy got the recipe and who I don't know. Thanks for sharing.
( Recipe, pictures and general rambling under here )
Facebook. It's good for more than merely ruining your anonymity.
Anyway, I tweaked the recipe, as I am wont to do. Which means I used a different vinegar and different shaped pasta.
So now, I claim this recipe as my own. Sorry, Nancy. And Terri, from whom Nancy got the recipe and who I don't know. Thanks for sharing.
( Recipe, pictures and general rambling under here )
I had a really great weekend.
Thursday Mom and Tom came for a few days. It was a fantastic visit, one of those where I wish that we lived closer. She watched a rehearsal, we cooked, and went down to Sixth Street (historic Route 66) to look at the pretty antiques, and to the Galleries at Sunset Center to look at all the art. And then we cooked some more. Girl Scout cookies, Coconut cake, roasted chicken, pizza, and pasta. I may or may not have fallen off the wagon (*cough*). It was a good time.
On a sad note, Mark, the man who was making the documentaries for the theatre passed away suddenly on Saturday morning. He was a sweet, funny man and a friend. His daughter, Terry, is one of those few kiddos that I truly count as one of my own (even now that she's grown). Mark will be missed more than I can say.
Yet, the show must go on. And this week starts intensive rehearsals for South Pacific. Fingers crossed that everything will go smoothly.
Thursday Mom and Tom came for a few days. It was a fantastic visit, one of those where I wish that we lived closer. She watched a rehearsal, we cooked, and went down to Sixth Street (historic Route 66) to look at the pretty antiques, and to the Galleries at Sunset Center to look at all the art. And then we cooked some more. Girl Scout cookies, Coconut cake, roasted chicken, pizza, and pasta. I may or may not have fallen off the wagon (*cough*). It was a good time.
On a sad note, Mark, the man who was making the documentaries for the theatre passed away suddenly on Saturday morning. He was a sweet, funny man and a friend. His daughter, Terry, is one of those few kiddos that I truly count as one of my own (even now that she's grown). Mark will be missed more than I can say.
Yet, the show must go on. And this week starts intensive rehearsals for South Pacific. Fingers crossed that everything will go smoothly.
Holy cow. It's September.
It's nearly fall, which makes me super happy. I'm sitting out on the back porch enjoying the cool morning weather with the dogs and a cup of coffee, admiring the roses, crepe myrtle and butterfly bush (that Frank is very nearly obscured by - win), and the lawn that my 10 year-old mowed yesterday.
Everyone should have a 10 year-old to mow for them. It's the best.
So the poetry contest wasn't a hit. But I did have some clever entries!
The winners wereleaper182 , seegrim amd mynuet , who'll need to tell me their color preference for their bags. Thanks for the entries, girls. They made me smile. :)
September's contest: is going to be a the same as one of the month's past. You tell me which pairing you want to write, and I'll give you a prompt! (Or I'll give you both - I don't mind doing some of the work.) Fun times. No word limit, no parameters, low pressure, low stress, and you have 'til I drag myself out of bed on October 1 to reply in a comment to THIS POST.
Winners for September will receive their choice of a GAP or Old Navy gift certificate. Or if you're overseas and want to enter, something equally wonderful. I love Old Navy. I have a billion dresses (not hyperbole) from that store. They also have cute accessories and shoes. So. Comment to get a prompt, write, comment again with the story, and win a pair of pants from a chain store. Good times, right?
Now I'm off to get the house ready for home group and to spend the day cooking. I'm making Almond-Bacon-Cheese-Crostini, anitpasto kababs, peanut butter cookies, chocolate cake truffles, artichoke dip, and a small platter of fruit and veggies. Don't you wish you were coming over tonight?
You're invited, by the way. I do love a drop in. ;)
It's nearly fall, which makes me super happy. I'm sitting out on the back porch enjoying the cool morning weather with the dogs and a cup of coffee, admiring the roses, crepe myrtle and butterfly bush (that Frank is very nearly obscured by - win), and the lawn that my 10 year-old mowed yesterday.
Everyone should have a 10 year-old to mow for them. It's the best.
So the poetry contest wasn't a hit. But I did have some clever entries!
The winners were
leaper182 , seegrim amd mynuet , who'll need to tell me their color preference for their bags. Thanks for the entries, girls. They made me smile. :)September's contest: is going to be a the same as one of the month's past. You tell me which pairing you want to write, and I'll give you a prompt! (Or I'll give you both - I don't mind doing some of the work.) Fun times. No word limit, no parameters, low pressure, low stress, and you have 'til I drag myself out of bed on October 1 to reply in a comment to THIS POST.
Winners for September will receive their choice of a GAP or Old Navy gift certificate. Or if you're overseas and want to enter, something equally wonderful. I love Old Navy. I have a billion dresses (not hyperbole) from that store. They also have cute accessories and shoes. So. Comment to get a prompt, write, comment again with the story, and win a pair of pants from a chain store. Good times, right?
Now I'm off to get the house ready for home group and to spend the day cooking. I'm making Almond-Bacon-Cheese-Crostini, anitpasto kababs, peanut butter cookies, chocolate cake truffles, artichoke dip, and a small platter of fruit and veggies. Don't you wish you were coming over tonight?
You're invited, by the way. I do love a drop in. ;)
Well, technically, it was more like a mid-morning snack. And it wasn't strictly ice cream*.
Let me back up.
Okay. I'm on this hardcore, awful, brutal diet, right? And achieving results, so... yay, sort of. And I guess I cheated. Fell off the wagon. Tied one on, because... get ready for this...
I HAD A BANANA.
In what fascist diet dictatorship is a banana cheating? I don't want to live in a world like that. Do you? I didn't think so. *solidarity fist bump*
My husband would love a world like that. He hates bananas. Thinks they're responsible for 1/16th of the evil in the world. You'll have to ask him about the things that comprise the other 15/16th. I'm sure he's told me, but he talks a LOT. I can't be expected to remember everything, can I?
So. Today I give you a tutorial. This is how to make ice cream* with one ingredient. You're intrigued, right?
( Recipe under the cut! )
And there's just a few more hours til August's contest is over. Go write a poem and win a prize!
Let me back up.
Okay. I'm on this hardcore, awful, brutal diet, right? And achieving results, so... yay, sort of. And I guess I cheated. Fell off the wagon. Tied one on, because... get ready for this...
I HAD A BANANA.
In what fascist diet dictatorship is a banana cheating? I don't want to live in a world like that. Do you? I didn't think so. *solidarity fist bump*
My husband would love a world like that. He hates bananas. Thinks they're responsible for 1/16th of the evil in the world. You'll have to ask him about the things that comprise the other 15/16th. I'm sure he's told me, but he talks a LOT. I can't be expected to remember everything, can I?
So. Today I give you a tutorial. This is how to make ice cream* with one ingredient. You're intrigued, right?
( Recipe under the cut! )
And there's just a few more hours til August's contest is over. Go write a poem and win a prize!
.
