Accountawhat?

Accountability... why bother? A bail out is easier - all you need is an open hand and a private jet, or if your private jet attracts too much attention, drive a hybrid. Come on, gas is cheap. Not only can you afford to request a bail out, you'd be stupid not too!

Hey, Uncle Sam, when will you "Just Say No?"

Cake Decorating!

The hubby inquired as to if I'd enjoy cake decorating classes. I said, "You betcha! Sounds like fun!" But, it gets better. I mentioned this to a friend while we were shopping and asked if this was something she would be interested in. "Oh yeah, that would be great!" So, in two short weeks we'll be learning the ins and outs of frosting at our local JoAnn's. The classes are Tuesday evenings from 6:00 pm to 8:00 pm. Gives us plenty of time to hook up for dinner before class.

I have a co-worker who loves pink cake/cupcakes, so I'm really looking forward to creating something really special for her. She and I both enjoy the blog CakeWrecks, which was the hubby's inspiration for the class as a gift to meeeeeeeee for the holidays. I laugh my little head off when I read that blog... good times. Hopefully I never see something I create on CakeWrecks, unless it's for the Sunday Sweets, whereby she posts pictures of amazing cakes that are NOT wrecks! Ha ha, as if. So I dream in sugar, let me enjoy this little fantasy as it's completely endorsed by the American Dental Association.

It's Melting!

The worst snow in over 20 years shut the city down on Wednesday. By the next day, most of it had melted - at least in my neighborhood. We ventured out last night, and just several miles away the snow seemed there to stay. Glad I don't live in the slightly higher elevation.

I'm done with snow. Sure it's pretty, but it's even prettier when it's on a postcard depicting some place I am not!

The branches in the backyard were touching the ground they were so heavy. The long willow branches were still a bright green, swaying in the breeze amid the white backdrop. I'll admit, that did look spectacular - but all the same, I'm glad most of it has melted. Of course now there is a little lake where our backyard used to be.

While the yard was blanketed with snow and branches bowing to the ground, lots of cool little alcoves were created that our doggies liked playing in and around. They HATE rain, but snow? Sure, snow's O.K. They willingly would go out into the white stuff, but not out into the rain?! Go figure.

I'm just glad it's melting. And, if I never see snow again that would make for a very Merry Christmas!

That's Art?

I grew up in a small Midwestern town, population at the time 2,939. Football was king and art was just something everyone had to take for one quarter a school year. I loved art, maybe because I was good at it - or at least my teacher thought so - maybe because it's such a personal and expressive experience. It seems anything can be art; basketballs floating in water, a dead bird attached to a painting, a canvas painted green, just solid green. With that said, art is apparently something you can't screw up. How fantastic! Of course, getting people to take your art seriously and to pay millions for it? That's a secret for just a select few to know and the rest of us to scratch our heads about.

While walking through the various exhibits at LAMCA I saw some pieces that resembled some of my earlier attempts to paint, my very unsuccessful, early attempts. It amazed me to see a painting, of what to me appeared to be a couple of ladies enjoying afternoon tea outdoors. The setting was lovely and it included a dog, what more could I ask for? The dog of course seems to be an extortionist. He was scratching his ear with a back leg in a manner I've never seen before. I have dogs, I've watched them so some pretty unusual and some very nasty things, but never witnessed anything like in the painting (and would prefer not do, as I'm sure if my dog could do that, she would need medical attention). Oh, and, one of the women at the tea party looked as if someone had just dragged her out a river, dried her off, and plopped her on a chair. Her body was facing the tea companion across the table, but her face was squared off toward the viewer of the piece. This made the face seem distorted and bloated in a bizarre and unpleasing way.

I recall painting in high school and sometimes my work had that unfortunate look about it and I tossed it out, frustrated that I couldn't paint. And, now, 15-20 years later something similar is hanging on a museum wall?! Crazy, not my idea of art, but then again, it doesn't have to be. That's the beauty of art, it lies within each of us to determine what is or is not art. No right, no wrong, just different interpretations and levels of appreciation. I look at that distorted painting of the ladies and the dog and think, "Abomination!" while someone else may exclaim, "Brilliant!"

There were some pieces that I truly enjoyed. It was wonderful to walk about and take note of different styles and find some that resonated with me, pieces I'd actually want on my wall (if I could afford them!). I'm so grateful to have had this experience. I usually sprint through museums while my hubby could spend what seems like hours studying a single item. Thus, we don't often go to museums together. My attention span is very short, his is not. However, part of what made this trip so magical was having a third party, an informed and trained, third party to guide us. She really made this so special. Her insight, knowledge of the pieces, the artists, the installations... wow! I actually want to go back and check it out again, see other exhibits we didn't make it to.

I remember that evening feeling so alive. Like I was part of some special club because I had experienced art, had glimpsed into another world, had new viewpoints to ponder.

Headless Bird Wonder

The other morning I let the dogs out, just as I always do, but this time they weren't at the door scratching to get back in. This worried me. The dogs rarely want to be outside for more than a few minutes.. I feared the worst, that they ran away. Sassy came a runnin' as soon as I turned the door knob, Karma however, was very busy. I went to see what she was up to. I didn't like what I discovered. Karma was munching on a headless bird that was also missing a wing. It was completely disgusting and not how I like to start my mornings. Ugh. But Karma was the happiest I've ever seen her. She did NOT want to give up her prize. She clamped down on that poor creature intending to never let go. Eventually she did of course, unwillingly. For the rest of the morning both dogs stared out the door, whimpering and whining. I refused them, mean mommy that I am. Luckily for me the dogs have a memory like an Etch A Sketch. If only I could erase from memory the sight of Karma chomping on that poor bird.

Thinking of you, wish you were here

I was contemplating if I should send our next door neighbors a postcard saying, "Thinking of you, wish you were here!" But, we finally got to chat a bit with them yesterday afternoon (after the tree hugging escapade). Haven't seen them in a while. They have three daughters in school with lots and lots of extracurricular activities, so getting together can sometimes be difficult. It seems they don't have anything planned for the 19th or 20th so hopefully we can get together then.

Saturday Night

Dinner with our friends was fabulous! My goodness, it was like going to Grandmas, the food just kept coming. Dish after dish was placed on the table. I was amazed at the variety offered as well as how wonderful each dish was. They're vegetarians so I figured, "oh pasta, I like pasta." Well, yes, there was pasta but also a berry appetizer, a couple different salads, a pizza type dish, out of this world potatoes, bread... there was so much I can't even remember it all. But wait, there's more! We took a little break to play a board game and then had dessert. And it happened again! Their gigantic dinning room table was covered with a bevy of spectacular desserts: lemon chiffon, apple pie, raspberry tarts, candy cane cookies, and probably some other options too, but even I, Ms.-I-love-dessert-more-than-life-itself, couldn't indulge in it all. I was defeated. It was a good defeat, one I'll cherish forever. It was a such an enjoyable evening I can't wait to do it again. The hubby and I were trying to figure out the proper waiting time before inviting them over again. We entertained them the week before, they invited us over this past weekend... next weekend would probably be too soon. And, now the holidays are quickly approaching. I fear we'll not get together until after the new year. Oh well, it'll be something worth looking forward to!

Tree Hugging

I don't know what the hell we were thinking. I climbed to a crook in the willow tree and pulled off some small dead branches. The hubby fetched a hand saw and I cut through a large branch, diameter about 10" inches or more. While hugging the tree I sawed away. Didn't take as long as I would have thought, but long enough. I'll be feeling that tomorrow! What possessed me into thinking, "yeah, I have what it takes to trim a willow tree! Let me at it!" Oh right, I looked out the window and saw the hubby with a ladder. "Hmm, no good can come from this. What is he doing?" I investigated and discovered that he was going to trim the tree with a borrowed tool from neighbor Dan. Why Dan ever thought we could be trusted with such a thing is beyond me. Not wanting the husband to hurt himself I said I'd *help*.

"Shall I dash inside, grab the cell phone and call 9-1-1 now or wait until you're injured?" I asked. "Gee, thanks for your vote of confidence." Hey, what can I say, I'm an optimist. Now it's true, my hubby is very gifted and talented, intelligent, witty, a wonderful provider, a great husband and my best friend - but a tree trimmer he is not. Nor am I. Fortunately our little foray into the unknown was without injury and we both escaped unharmed.

Hopefully the next time we get a bright idea to do something so stupid we'll think better of it and instead call a professional.

There are others?

Saturday night we invited a couple over to enjoy a home cooked meal. (The hubby's home cooked meal.) Conversation was lively and fun, the food great, and it was a thoroughly wonderful evening. They've invited us into their home this coming Saturday and I'm very excited! It's great to know we're not the only ones our age that don't have children by choice. It's very hard to meet other couples without children. All of our friends have kids of varying ages and trying to have a conversation when kids are around is like trying to bake a 20 lb turkey in an Easy Bake Oven.

Baking

My maternal grandfather was a baker. I never saw him as that, he was always just this old guy, with thick glasses watching baseball games on the TV and cheating at over-sized crossword puzzles. My mom would tell me of times, when she was about my age, how she'd go to the bakery with her dad and he'd show her how to make rolls. She needed both of her hands to create one roll and it often was a big blob, whereas her dad would roll dough in each hand and turn out two perfect rolls in seconds. My mom would get so upset, not understanding how his were perfect and her roll was not. He explained that he spent everyday making these, that over time and with lots of practice she too could to the same. Thing was, to the best of my knowledge, she had no interest in that and so never pursued it.

My mother hates cooking, at least that's the impression I've always had. When Christmas time grew near and it was time to bake cookies and decorate the tree my dad would take my brother and me to a museum or other such place for the day so mom could have the house to herself. I never learned to cook or bake from my parents. It was something I discovered on my own.

My first attempt in the kitchen was Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. This was a complete failure. I added the cheese powder to the water when I first started boiling it, then the noodles. I noted it was time to drain the water, and there went all my "cheese sauce" down the drain. The noodles were naked and pathetic. I was undaunted by this and grabbed a bunch of Kraft cheese slices and unwrapped them from their clear little envelopes. They didn't melt as I had hoped so I had a rather globby mess of noodle goo. My brother Zak, about 9 or 10 at the time, was astute enough to point out, "That's not how mom does it."

My second attempt at "cooking" was when I was about 13. I tried making chocolate chip cookies. Mom was NOT home that Saturday, I don't recall where she was, just that I had to finish my chocolate chip cookie experiment before she returned. I gathered all the necessary ingredients and began my first baking endeavor. I unwrapped the butter stick and melted it in the microwave, then I added the eggs. They stared frying in the butter. I thought, "oh boy, this isn't good." Somehow I knew that wasn't quite right. I tried removing the fried egg from the melted butter, but it was useless. I think I just continued on as if nothing had ever happened. Needless to say the cookies didn't turn out. If my mom ever wondered what happened to the butter or eggs she never said anything to me. Either I covered my tracks well enough or she took pity on me.

My mom, who hates to cook, can make Macaroni and Cheese and cookies, but me, a twelve year old kid, couldn't even manage that. I learned that you have to read the directions all the way to the end. There aren't any shortcuts when learning to cook or bake.

I left the kitchen wizardry to my mom for the next eight to ten or so years. It wasn't until I was living on my own that I attempted to cook or bake. Single, living alone in a $350/month rent studio apartment, where I was completely responsible for the groceries, I once again gave cooking a chance. Recalling my two previous kitchen experiences I decided baking just wasn't in the cards for me. I tried my hand at pasta. I figured enough time had passed that now I should be able to boil water, cook some noodles, and enjoy them without having to toss it in the trash. Fortunately it worked out. I discovered that pasta is very forgiving. You can test it along the way. Try a piece as it's tumbling about in the roiling water. Crunchy? Let it boil some more and try another piece in a minute. Not crunchy? Great! Soggy, uh oh! But, with time and experience, like grandpa said, you will get better. He was right, I did.

However, it was several more years before I attempted baking. Still single I figured baking would be a cheap source of entrainment. Basic staples like butter, milk, eggs, flour, sugar, and vanilla aren't too expensive to experiment with. I had an old cook book with a banana nut bread recipe. Not sure what inspired me to try it, but I did and was successful. Again, reading the directions all the way to the end is key. I baked banana nut bread so regularly, out of habit more than anything, that I developed a great intuition for how the batter should be. I began trying different things and found that as long as the batter has the consistency of being just a bit sticky, not runny, not stiff, somewhere in the middle, it will almost always turn out - assuming the oven temperature is even and accurate.

Now, over twenty years after my first disastrous chocolate chip cookie experiment I still enjoy baking. My chocolate chip cookies and various breads usually turn out perfectly. I like to think I inherited something from my now deceased grandfather. I only wish I had this interest in baking while he was still alive. I'd love to ask him about his baking experiences, what kinds of mishaps he had in the kitchen, what his favorite item to bake was. For me, it's a variety of different mini-muffins. It used to be banana nut bread, but then I tried an apricot, white chocolate chip, macadamia nut muffin that's really fantastic. Then, I made some lemon blueberry muffins and I think, "No, these are my favorite!" But, it doesn't really matter what I bake, it's actually the process and the smell from the oven that I enjoy, and of course sharing baked goods with friends and family.