Haiti

I watched a bit of a show on public TV about the situation in Haiti. I cried. There's so much devastation, so much poverty, so much rubble. It broke my heart and made me sad and angry. What can I say? I feel hopeless about the situation down there. I watched as a shiny giant excavator scooped up a pile of cement bits, an old blanket, and a body and dropped it into the massive dump truck. The body dangled like a piece of trash. Somewhere, maybe here, maybe in Haiti, there's someone crying over that person that they just picked up with the machine.

Then they took rubble and trash mixed with bodies and buried them in a mass grave. I guess I understand from a cleanliness point of view that bodies need to be buried as quickly as possible but emotionally, it tears me apart to see them dump bodies in what seemed like unmarked graves. It makes me feel empty. Who is crying over this person?

Left Over Sour Cream

I have a bunch of left over sour cream and decided to bake some kind of sour cream chocolate creation for my husband. When I asked him to name his favorite chocolate cake, he merely said all of them. Well, ok then. So, I decided to make a chocolate cake that had the most sour cream.

The one that I made is called Black Chocolate Party Cake. The recipe is from Rose's Heavenly Cakes (by Rose Beranbaum, author of The Cake Bible). This cake really is dense, tender, and very chocolaty. I added some things to enhance the flavor, such as espresso in the cake and Kahlua in the glaze. This one truly melts in your mouth. Even I like it and I'm not a huge chocolate fan.

Since it will be my husband's birthday in late April, we decided to light a candle and sing to him. I'm really happy that he liked it. Plus chocolate is supposed to be an aphrodisiac, so maybe I'll get lucky tonight!

Natural Deodorant

I've been looking my entire adult life for a natural deodorant. I've tried them all: solid salt, enzyme enriched, glycerin with lichen, yeah, lichen of all things. None of them worked, not even Tom's of Maine (which is now owned by a mega corporation and Tom is happily retired on some island with his millions). They ALL left me smelling terrible and causing awful sweat stains. This search of mine is always present. I have always looked for something that will work for me, something that won't pump nasty chemicals and heavy metals into my body. I have quite the collection of deodorants.

In the meantime, I've been using Dove antiperspirant. It did an OK job but it still delivered aluminum into my body. Since no one really seems to know if this is damaging, I went on using it, hoping against all hope to find something natural. Well, lo and behold, I found it. I was reading my Zappos Digest (yes, I know, a shoe digest of all things but shoes are a love of mine and it makes me happy to read about them and they just happen to be discussing sweat stains of all things) and I came upon an article about how to get rid of underarm sweat stains. Several contributors suggested trying milk of magnesium in place of deodorant. They said: you just dab it on with a cloth and it handles the body odor, cuts down on perspiration and won't leave those damn sweat stains on your clothes.

I've tried a salt lick, might as well try milk of magnesium. What the hell, I thought. Yep, it's a laxative and I found it at Bartell's right there next to the Metamucil. So, I took it home and after my nightly shower, I dabbed. I have to wear deodorant at night, period, otherwise, it's a very stinky situation. Anyway, I woke up that first next morning smelling like blackberry and vanilla (my fav perfume). Amazed, I dabbed more under my arms. And I smelled wonderful ALL day. I felt joy that I had found my natural deodorant alternative and I felt worried - would it last or would it turn out like the lichen crap? So, I did the milk of magnesium dab for two more weeks and I still smell better than I've ever smelled even using an antiperspirant. Better, I smell better.

So, yeah, I use milk of magnesium as a deodorant and it really does work. I'm basing this on my lifelong quest to find a natural alternative to antiperspirant along with my three weeks of testing. My only question is what to do with all those Dove antiperspirants that I bought at Costco.

The Navy?

They sent me a mailer espousing the wonders of a NAVY education. It's taken me a long time, but I think I might be ready to join the NAVY. WHAT! I'm too old? Yes, I am. I guess it's a good thing. I probably couldn't make it past boot camp. Maybe they have a baking boot camp. Whisks ready?!! Whisk! I said WHISK Ensign, NOW!

I really do like my country but I'm  not sure I could put my life in danger to protect it.

I think if someone was coming up the shore to capture my flag, I'd fight them. But really now, I'd much rather relax and read a good book. Like a book about someone who struggles to find their way. I like writing that envelops me and allows me to take a journey inside the heart of the characters. But, honestly, I've become a lazy reader. I've pretty much abandoned my search for complex novels that take me in and refuse to release me. I've been reading mysteries, which I love. I've also lapsed into Harlequin Intrigue, they all have the same effect: strong girl is in trouble, bad but virtuous boy sweeps in, muscles and beauty collide in a stormy connection, and sometimes they make it past the first time and sometimes they don't, but there's always hope. Hope. I think there might be hope for my return to fiction. I love the feeling of being infused with the essence of a story. I love complex and lovely prose. I do love lovely prose. And, when I read something spectacular, even if it's sad, I feel exalted. It's almost as if this author has touched my soul and spoken directly to me. It truly feels amazing.

Every Cook Has a Bad Day

And mine was last night. I was too ambitious for the time that I had. Or the stars were misaligned. Or it was my husband's fault. You know what I mean. I had been planning to make train cut-out cookies for my son to take to school. They looked lovely, in my mind's eye.

For birthdays at school, the principal comes in and he leads the class in a birthday song. Then my son gets a personal card and a special birthday pencil from the principal. And to finish off, they have cookies that I bring for my son. I really wanted to make these fancy train cookies with three colors, outlined in black, with a window, and with wheels. Oh, they were so cool looking.

After I put the boy to bed (this takes up precious time and I have to do it because my husband is on a business trip - this is why it's his fault) and have a quick rest, I make the frosting. At nine thirty at night! This should have been my first clue. I make a thick frosting; it's so thick that it won't spread. Naturally, I add water to thin it out, only I didn't measure it. Since I'm in a hurry, I dumped it in from our crappy faucet. By the way our faucet has two settings, on and off. But, what the heck, right. I mix it and put it in the piping bag. This is my second time using a piping bag (another clue, right?).

I pipe blue on all the cookies and it looks average but I really need to hustle if I want to get to bed. I go too fast, the tip is too big and I put too much frosting on. The blue is dripping off of many cookie edges. Yeah, this might be my second clue; but it's not. I mix up some pink only to realize that I don't have enough frosting for the three other colors- the wheels, the window, and the outlining. I quickly add too much water from my crappy faucet and make the pink way too runny. But, I go with it because I'm tired and I want to get these cookies done. It's ten thirty by now and I'm yawning like crazy. So I pipe on runny pink frosting. And, boy does it run and drip all over the place. These cookies look like they've got multiple stalagtites hanging off their edges. I know my son will be thrilled with all the blue and pink colored icing on the counter that he can pick off and eat. Being a trooper, I think I can salvage it, somehow.

After I pipe on all the runny pink I realize that the cookies look terrible. At this point, I should have gone to bed but I really wanted to make these cookies. So at eleven o'clock I had the bright idea of scraping all the pink and blue off of all the cookies and putting on one solid color with perhaps a few sprinkles. Brilliant. Yawn, yawn. Really, I am yawning like crazy now. I also feel like crying. When I scrape, I realize that I can't really get at all the frosting that oozed over the sides. I end up with blue and pink stained cookies with pink and blue stains off the sides. Yet, I am hopeful. I see these perfect lovely train cookies and I think I can...

I make up a new batch thick red frosting. This time, I think I get the consistency correct and I begin piping. But wait, what's that oozing on my hand. Of course, it's red frosting from the bag that just burst because I put too much pressure due to the frosting being too thick.

Remember the scraping, well in the process of scraping, I break a couple of cookies. Only, I don't have any extra because I just don't (this should have been another clue). All I could think to do at this point was eat the broken cookies. So here I am with icing that needs to be used, a bunch of pink and blue stained cookies with stained drips off the sides, not enough cookies, it's about eleven thirty, and I'm tired of cookie decorating.

As I stood at the sink dipping into the vat of red frosting, I think I got my final clue. I'll just go buy some lovely cookies on the way to school. Got the clue. Done.

Baking

Yep, I love to bake. I love making cupcakes and drop cookies. They are so easy to make and split into individual portions. Then I can make different frosting with different flavors. And, what I don't want to eat, I can send away to friends.

While I love cakes, they are too time consuming and then I have to eat the whole thing. I mean, my family has to eat the whole cake.

Once I made a cake that I didn't like. I didn't taste good. My son absolutely adored it though, so I said he could look at it a bit but then I was going to toss it. His face bent inward and crinkled with horror. "WHAT!?" He demanded. "NO!!!"

'Wow.' I thought to myself. I guess chucking a cake is the worst imaginable thing possible to a child. "Ok, ok, we can keep it around for a bit. But the flavor isn't good and blah, blah, blah." He only heard: we can keep it around for a bit.

Flash forward to the next day. I was doing something int he kitchen and my son came tearing out of his room at top speed while he yelled out, "The cake, where's the cake?" He spied it sitting on the counter and breathed a huge sigh of relief.