Photo Book

Click here to view this photo book larger

Create a gorgeous, high quality wedding photo album at Shutterfly.com.

The bee's knees

All of the baristas my local Starbucks have been helping me with a project and I wanted to surprise them with something nice that they could all enjoy so I thought this would be a great reason to attempt cake pops. I need to work getting a smooth layer of dipped chocolate, but otherwise I was so happy with how they turned out especially since this was my first time. Going with the bees and flowers theme, the note reads "You're the bee's knees! Thank you!" The baristas were so excited when I delivered them and even more excited when I convinced them that they were edible.

Bakerella is definitely the bee's knees for posting all her AMAZING ideas and how-to's for cake pops and everything else that falls under the category of baking. 

A Saturday afternoon hotdog party

(I got to make cupcakes, the family's cake and birthday hats for the great-grand kiddys for the party)

That's what it was billed as to the birthday boy, Bill, anyway.  We went to a surprise back yard 80th birthday party for a lifetime friend this afternoon.  I can only hope to have such perfect gathering when I'm 80.  Something to look forward to.   

Where were you when....?

6/26/2009

Farrah Fawcett died today. We've been expecting this for a while now. She's made no secret of her illness and the press has covered everytime she enters and leaves the hospital. The announcement of her death came of no surprise. However, it was the 5 pm announcement that shocked the world: Michael Jackson had passed away that afternoon. HUH? Where did that come from?

Most people of my mom's generation can tell you were they were at when they heard President Kennedy had been shot (although I would not put money on my mom remembering). For me, I remember where I was when the space shuttle blew up (8th grade, Mr. Beetle's science class at Helfrich Park Middle School, we were watching the shuttle launch on TV), where I was when Princess Diana's death was announced (My college roommate Amy and I were just walking into the bed and breakfast we were staying at in San Antonio, TX around midnight. The TV in the common room was left on, but no one else was there so Brian William's was reporting to an empty room), when a bomb blew up at Olympic Park in Atlanta in 1996 (I was sleeping in Beth and Warren's upstairs guest room when my sister came in, stuck her face right in front of mine, and said "Tracy! A bomb went off at the Olympics!), and when the planes hit the World Trade Center towers in 2001 (I was getting ready for the day to go teach at Ivy Tech. I had the Today Show on when Matt and Katie broke in with a special announcement and then Kelly called to make sure I was watching it. I just stood, transfixed at the end of my mom's bed watching the replay of the first plane and then the second plane hit.). I'm guessing MJ's death will probably stick in my head that very same way. I was at home surfing the internet when I saw that TMZ reported that he'd gone into cardiac arrest and was not breathing at the hospital. The next time I'd checked, an hour later, it was announced that he had died. The 5 pm world news was on and both Katie Couric and Brian Williams led the news with the story that he *might* have died. By the end of both newscasts they had his face and 1958-2009 on the screen with a mini-montage of his life. This is what I'm going to remember about Michael Jackson's death--- the unprecidented speed at which information is compiled and announced in our age of technology. Not five minutes after TMZ was the first to announce his death, several news/magazine websites had posted images and brief stories. NOT FIVE MINUTES AFTER! Amazing!

If one is good, five is better

8/19/2009

When my dad passed away almost ten years ago and my sister and I organized the his workshop in the garage a bit, we joked that our dowry was sitting in front of us in the form of tools. There were AT LEAST two sets of EVERYTHING. Two band saws, two drill presses, two belt sanders on a stand, two disc sanders, two hand held belt sanders, two jigsaws...you get the idea. And that was just the big power tools. We thought we were pretty smart- what guy wouldn't want to marry a girl with her own complete workshop!! ha ha! (no, we were not serious)

There actually is a good reason why there was two of everything. When either my dad or grandpa would get a tool (let's say for Christmas), the other would get one too and when my grandpa passed away, my dad added the tools to his collection and set them up with different blades so he could go back and forth. In the first year or two since my dad died, we sold some of the big tools to make room to store our own stuff in the garage, but there was still a lot out there that we just compacted into a corner and worked around until now. 

Speak softly but carry a big screwdriver.

Off in La-la Land

9/15/2009

Where have I been for the past few weeks? Off in La-la Land. No, not Los Angeles, I mean La-la Land as in my own little world. We've got company coming in less than two weeks now which means that heavy duty spring cleaning has to happen according to my mom. Granted, it's now fall, but that didn't stop us from cleaning like it's spring. Our house may get a little disorganized, but it's never really dirty. However, when overnight guests are expected and there's a party being planned, the house is supposed to sparkle all the way down to the walls. That means all the furniture gets moved, upholstered pieces get the vacuum treatment, walls are wiped down, everything attached to the walls comes off to be Windexed and Pledged, curtains are washed, windows are washed, the landscaping gets trimmed and manicured, new flowering mums are planted, lawn furniture is scrubbed and repainted. You name it, it happens.

In addition to all this cleaning, I've still been looking for a job which is an absolutely fruitless effort. People with jobs have no clue what it's like to be in the market for a job. It's brutal right now. A few days ago I spoke to my former roommate who is now in Atlanta working as an Artist in Residence at a museum and he said that one open position posting for a visual effects person brought in over 600 applications. Let me repeat...SIX HUNDRED people applied for one opening of a speciality job. Whoa. Talk about being in a seller's market. How would the poor resume reviewer even know where to begin?

I went on an interview a few weeks ago and left laughing out loud at the obsurdity of what just happened. The two architects I met with were very nice and exceptionally complementary of my resume, portfolio, and background, and they even had an idea of how I could work for them on a contract basis for a select high-profile project in the city. BUT. BUUUUUUUTTTT...don't plan on it. We'd love to have you, but we don't know how we could. We think you are great, but don't plan on this interview coming of anything. If you would work with us, you would start on this date and go until this date, but we're not offering you the position so don't get your hopes up. HUH?!?!

You can see why La-La Land is better than reality.  Reality confuses me.

The Secret Garden's secret door

Today was such a lovely day that my Mom, who is off work while she recouperates from shoulder surgery, and I spent the afternoon shopping for a water feature for the backyard.  It's been a while since we've visited the Secret Garden in Newburgh, so we thought we'd see what's new at the area's most she-she garden and home boutique.  This place makes me want to live in a chic city loft in a former cigar factory with a rooftop English-style container garden where I would hold outdoor dinner parties for an eclectic mix of six friends who would appreciate cocoa braised turkey and roasted asparagus with orange vinaigrette served on fine china adorned with the Napoleonic bee motif while lively debating the possibility that Sir Francis Bacon was actually the person who penned the works attributed to William Shakespeare.  Yes, the Secret Garden turns me into the complete opposite of myself.

While perusing the second floor loft space today I noticed a little something hidden in plain sight.

On the way out to the patio, tucked in a nook yet complete with exposed hinges and a knob, was a teeny tiny door placed about six inches above the floor. A door no larger than my hand, it was.  The only conclusion I could come to was that The Littles lived in the walls and I bet they have garden parties after hours.