a mostly ballroom dance, but also a bunch of other stuff, blog
This is what's left of the Cake, 36 hours after baking it. It might be half a pan. Probably not.
Cake recipe here: yum.
I had a fun morning.
A) The sun is shining.
B) V knows how to do somersaults.
C) I had laundry to do.
Combine…
Awesome.
Quote of the morning?
Gordon: [inspecting jar of liquid] Is this urine?
It was vanilla syrup…
Good times.
Anybody?
– Four loaves of various types of bread. Maybe a loaf that had too many scoops of flour. The ladies are very distracting sometimes.
– A mended $5 IKEA pillow. It didn't need mending until I got it home from IKEA and decided to rip off the "do not remove" tag, instead of being a patient grown-up and using scissors. I used clashing aqua-colored embroidery thread on the green pillow and love it even more now.
– A pan of weird cookie/brownie/oatmealy things.
– A chalkboard made out of an old window frame.
– A swanky chandelier from a piece of junk. More on this once my darling husband gets a chance to hang it and I find out it works or not.
– An interesting trip to the library with a strange and amusing bag of books to bring home.
– A not-interesing trip to Goodwill (in the fruitfulness factor), but a nice look at the (finally) budding trees and a fun time with the ladies.
– A real Cake that might never have it's picture taken before its all eaten. (Did I use the "it's/its" correctly or not? I feel dumb.)
– One day of judging lovely people ballroom dancing.
Oy.
Two guys and a… [Name that reference for a free mint.]
This song has nothing to do with the following post. It is just awesome. I am afraid to buy the whole album because I'm pretty sure I would listen to nothing else but it for the entire summer and all other music would lose its luster until the new Mumford & Sons album came out.
I have never made a cake.
Okay, duh, I've opened a box, poured out the contents, and added water, oil, and eggs. But a cake? Like a Cake? No.
Cakes come in a box. (Unlike brownies, which I never made out of a box until I was 23, but that's a different story.)
Are you finding it hard to read with this awesome song playing?
I was browsing my May issue of Real Simple magazine (that and Us Weekly are guilty pleasures) and came across a section on cakes and frostings and fillings and whatnot.
If the photo wasn't delicious enough, I was hankering for some baker-ing. Score. I happened to have all the ingredients (who has whole milk on hand except those with small children?), so the cake began.
Electric mixer, you say? My ma could maybe attest to the fact that my neat-o mixer is older than me.
The mixer does not find that holding the beaters is really necessary anymore. It also finds that the speed I set it on is just a suggestion, and not a command. Lastly, that bowl? Too deep to get the *&%$ing mixer in all the way. Needless to say, I want this:
This sucker was rated great by everyone. Way to go, Cuisanart.
My Cake is in the oven. I'll let you know how it goes.
I think I was still in ecstasy from dinner and in a delicious food-haze, went to Caketown. What was for dinner?
These bad boys. Oh my. The picture, nor words, can do them justice. Having a bad day? Whip up some
Turkey Gorgonzola Burgers!
– 1 lb. lean ground turkey
– 3 oz. gorgonzola, crumbled
– 2 cloves garlic, minced
– 2 tsp. cumin
Combine ingredients, barely. (This keeps your burgers from being tough.) Throw on a griddle/pan/grill for a few minutes, flip. Put on toasted hamburger buns.
I enjoy them plain, with no condiments, which is rare. But they are SO GOOD! Seriously. And easy. Which makes them better. Killer.
The cake is nearly done. I must jet.
*wink*
This is my new chalkboard. I won't even tell you how much I love it.
Okay, I will. This, you might remember, was my "dream project" from earlier this week. The one with the fumes in the basement.
I was worried how it would turn out. A) Never spray-painted anything before. B) Could only see parts of said project at a time.
I sprayed the window with chalkboard paint first and did, like, nine layers; I kid you not. Then I covered up the precious chalkiness, primed (Rustoleum, baby), and painted the frame with Rustoleum Painter's Touch in Gloss White.
*love*
Since it wasn't the most perfect job, I gave the frame a few swipes with a sanding wedge (a thingy that holds sandpaper) to make it look like I meant to make it imperfect, then sprayed it again. This time, with Rustoleum's clear coat.
I added screw eyes and some chain to hang it, and My Great-Grandma! [Viola… Keep up!]
Since I have two more window frames sitting around in the garage, I'm sensing a supply of spray-painting fun. I want one in yellow and one in bright pink, but we'll see. The spray paint aisle is my new yarn store.
Meaning, I stand in front of the display of the product I want and stare and contemplate and wonder and choose and decide against and compare and imagine and pick up and feel and doubt and put back and get frustrated and grab and buy and put receipt in special place in case of need for return and then use and sigh… It's all good.
I'm dying for a bright day to take pictures of merch for my Etsy store, since the lighting in my house in junk. (Can you sense we are in a long-term renovation by the look of the walls in the first picture?) Minnesota will not comply. Tomorrow, maybe?
Until then, the ladies and I will admire flowers and bikes on our little jaunts.
(V likes the flowers. G, the bikes.)
*love more than spray paint*
I teach ballroom dance.
Sometimes, I teach like this…
But mostly like this…
Except I don't need the bullhorn.
But never like this…
Because that's just stupid.
Many couples like to do this…
To that, I say this…
Dancing is fun. It is an art. It is exercise. It is an fun, artful exercise that you do with someone you enjoy.
To enjoy it, you must learn: where to put your feet, when to put your feet where they are supposed to go and how to stand up properly. Then you can learn how to use your feet and legs to make other things happen, like Cuban motion and swing and sway. (*collective "ooooo" from the audience*)
These are all things that you learn. You learn these things at your own pace. Your partner might have a different pace. But you always ask, "What can I do to improve myself?" and then your partner will always have an easier job.
I like to teach dance. I know how to teach dance. If you want to learn how to dance, I'm your girl. If you want something else, there are many places to find a counselor, couples' therapy, a date, someone to tell you you're great at everything, free stuff, a babysitter, or an hour to kill. I will teach you how to dance.
XO
Tomorrow: After the spray!
Because he's a dancer… And he's gorgeous.
I'm a ballroom dancer.
Sometimes I do this…
And sometimes I do this…
But never this…
Because that's just stupid.
I'd love to do this…
And could name 17 other ladies who would want to also.
This is one of my favorite movies…
Because it's awesome. And everything in it is true.
I don't think much of getting up at 5am to do my hair and makeup. Even when I dance at 9am.
Them's some tired arms. And a lot of hairspray (can you feel it move? SPRAY IT AGAIN!) and a lot of eyeshadow.
This guy is a dancer…
And that was good enough for me.
Surprisingly, this isn't about spray tanning.
It is, however, about my awesome day of spray-painting ugly things.
Note to self:
-Your basement is not well-ventilated.
That's the flash catching all the little paint particles, like 5 minutes after I sprayed. Our basement looks like a dungeon, so I wasn't worried about getting paint on anything, which is why I chose it.
It's also a picture of my early morning brainstorm (which happened during an actual storm). I love chalkboards, in a passive, "wow, the concept is great" way. But upon waking, I decided to make all my spare window parts (we've replaced a few of the sketchy ones; they're about 100 years old, no joke) into swanky-swanky-ass chalkboards. A little chalkboard paint, a little semi-gloss spray, a couple screw eyes (which is just fun to say), some chain, and soon… Viola! (My great-grandma? Now I'm confused.)
Then project #2:
The bonus of the basement was that there was a nice little nail to hang this nasty treat from.
It's a chandelier that my bestie found for me in a pile of junk that a business had thrown out. Ha ha, suckers! Wait 'til you see it!
I was skeptical of this one. The fixture was dirty as hell and I don't think I've ever touched as many dead bugs as I did today cleaning it out, but it only took a few minutes, some primer, and moving my dang car out of the garage until this little rascal started to take shape. *drool.* So excited for it to dry and for me to get my Ace on. Frattallone's, that is. And the Summit Hill one, not that weird one farther down on Grand. Bless you, Mike Frattallone and your minions of hardware. I'm going to get candle socket covers (aka- the things that look like candles on an electric chandelier) and light bulbs (not the lame CFL ones either- sorry, Al Gore) and I'm going to not electrocute myself trying to hang my wee chandelier somewhere. Wee chandelier. Hehe.
Man, I should write when I'm tired more often! Hilarity ensues!
As much as I'd like to leave you with Will Ferrell, here's to you, MN.
– One ugly room painted a new B-U-T-ful (sound it out!) color.
More of this project later.
– "Really fun" trip to IKEA with a fruitful purchase of a drying rack.
– Not-quite-whole-wheat bread, but it tastes good.
– A roast chicken and the accompanying chicken stock. Gosh, it looks gross.
– 10 glasses of delicious, nearly-free iced coffee. Oh, man, I'm going to lose my Starbucks gold card status if this keeps up!
– An Etsy store that I mostly know how to list items on. I really tried not to end that sentence with a preposition, but it sounds weird.
– Five cute little onesies to sell in above store.
– One elusive "two and a half" year old model who only poses for photo shoots if all the stipulations in her contract are honored.
*see? no picture*
– My husband's ugly brass lamp redecorated to something I'll actually put in a public space.
Looking for a lampshade for this, but I'll show you the fun when I have a real "after."
– Three trips to the playground.
– A great summer play list (hears to optimism!). Here's a sample:
– Fam time with the Koscioleks. This isn't them, but it might as well be.
Hope y'all had a great weekend and a happy Mother's Day to all you great mamas out there.
Somebody make the joke about sausage for me, okay?
Get it?
You must listen to this awesome song while reading this post.
It is much more officially spring today than that bunk March 20th date this year. The spring equinox brought us a chilly 44 degrees and a blizzard warning in northern MN. Today, it's 70 degrees and sunny and there are actually buds on the trees. Buds!
I've been dying to restart my garden this year (I skipped last year). I started planning some nifty raised beds in September or so and have been perfecting the design and plant variety since then. Don't get me wrong; I really have no idea what I'm doing. My plant-growing experience thus far has been keeping a rhododendron cutting I got from my mom alive and a couple tomato and sunflower plants by our garage two years ago. Not exactly a green thumb.
Nonetheless, the plant I'm really excited about is an Improved Meyer Lemon Tree! I imagine the dude who does all the movie preview voice-overs bellowing those words. (His name is Don LaFontaine and he died in 2008 at 68 "because God wanted his voice back.") What's so special about an improved Meyer lemon tree? Well, obviously, they're sexier than an ordinary lemon. Just look at this girl! 
In fact, an improved Meyer lemon is rounder and sweeter than a regular lemon, and the tree is hardy, pretty, and smells great when it's in bloom. It's awesome as a potted plant and blooms year-round! The fruit is a favorite of chefs and bakers all over the world, but you can't buy them in a grocery store (get thee to a farmers' market, my peeps). A lovely girl I know said if I supply her with tasty lemons, she'll bake me a couple treats. Her treats are amazing. Good trade.
There's a lot of neat things about lemons…
Like Ojai. This is the valley where my bro lives in CA. Ojai rocks. It has lemon, avocado and orange groves. It has mountains and valleys and hiking and celebrity weddings and hippies and good pizza and swanky clothing stores and Lucky Brand named a whole line of bags after the valley, so you know it's cool.
This blog is great.
Liz Lemon is great. We have the same initial necklace from Nashelle… Except I have a K, and she has an L. Otherwise that would be weird.
Heather Bailey writes some great stuff on her blog, plus has neat-o tutorials, pretty fabric, and lots of things about lemons.
I tried to get a picture of my babe doing her "lemon face," but to no avail. *sigh* Someday.
In any case, until you have your own fancy-schmancy lemon tree on order, here's something to keep you happy.
I am having a heart attack. I make a lot of stuff. Scarves, pidges (we'll talk), vanilla extract, coffee, pillows, yo-yos, doohickeys, doodads, bread, cookies, pants, you know- STUFF. When I was little, I would set up tables on my folks' front sidewalk and sell friendship bracelets and friendship pins (yes, I was an 80's kid) to drivers-by and there were a few Kool-Aide stands in there, too. Not too long ago, a couple of my besties and I got an LLC to start up our own little sumpin'-sumpin'. But I have not, officially, ever sold any of my goodies.
But here:
This is my Etsy store. It only has a couple items in it and I'm planning on adding some cutie baby yo-yo onesies along with some adult-type yo-yo shirts this weekend. I really just wanted to try out the listing process. Okay, I'm defending myself against non-interest. And… End scene.
I hope you are all doing well on this fabulous Friday and you're getting the heck out of Dodge to enjoy your weekend. Tomorrow is all about my fabulous lemon tree.
Riot and Frolic 