blog, interrupted

I know, I know...I've been gone for most of a week. Not. My. Fault. It's the Dreaded Month of Hectic, remember? And on top of everything else, my sister went and got herself married! Since I was here last, I've done one rehearsal dinner; one beautiful wedding (I looked good for an old hag who did her own makeup, don't you think?); two plane trips with children, suitcases, carry-ons, and car seats; one pap smear (thanks to Julie for providing me with sufficient obstetrical fodder to last through the pelvic and the rectal -- she's so helpful, that one!); two nights of Chanukah; one trip to the pediatrician; one trip to Home Depot, and a fucking partridge in a pear tree.

The wedding was fabulous. Emily was the flower girl and was appropriately honored, dignified, and entirely goofy. More incredible than her outfit, however, was Samantha's. Who the fuck is Samantha, Terry? We don't know any Samantha. Why, Samantha Parkington, American Girl, of course! Samantha has moved into our house and, with the magnificent additions of a wardrobe hand-sewn by Emily's Grandma Mary (bridesmaid's dress, Brownie uniform, surgical scrubs, raincoat, and more!), a new trunk, and a bed of her own, is here to stay.

I got myself some of this cool black cocoa from King Arthur Flour, but I'm kind of on the fence about it. I used it 50/50 with Dutch cocoa, as recommended, and made Regan Daley's glorious Chocolate Cookies with Dried Cherries and Toffee Bits. The thing is, they tasted great, but I thought they looked kind of like cow pies. Less of the black cocoa next time, I think. You know, it's one of those things where everyone else (see: the guys working in the basement who taste-tested for me) will think they're fabulous. I put most of them in the freezer for the cookie platters. If I get my act together, I'll still make some lemon-pine nut biscotti and some rugalach before I'm done. If I get my act together. Defrosting and platter-building will take place on Sunday night December 19 or thereabout. I'll document and blog. Read it and drool, suckers.

Tentatively, I'm teaching my first cooking classes this weekend -- a gingerbread house decorating demo session and a cookie swap. I'm nervous, but excited! I'll be sure to report.

Word is that Charlie is doing well. I'm not hearing much from Julie, which I take to be a good thing. I think it means that she's spending more and more time at the hospital, which means that Charlie is spending more and more time out of the isolation booth. Oddly, since he wasn't due until February, I have a Christmas present for him, and it's excellent. I'm looking forward to shipping it out, or maybe driving it over.

I've recently had a nice windfall, and I want to get myself a treat. Here are the criteria: it can be an accessory, an electronic gizmo, or a kitchen toy; it has to be just for me (I was thinking about new sheets, but ruled them out) and it can't cost more than $200. Suggestions are welcome.

I'll be back, but I haven't been to yoga in almost three weeks and, if I get an opportunity to go, I'm blowing off writing and standing on my head.

Love and kisses and latkes and applesauce.

Oooh! Say that like Peter Brady! Lat-kes and apple-sauce!

Hee.

Posted by volfie at December 8, 2004 08:47 PM