And I can't really describe to you how it pains me to give her only a virtual pie because:
A) the last time I saw her was a couple of years ago in Chicago even though before that I hadn't seen her for
2) at least 10 years when we were in France for her wedding and
3) she's one of my dearest friends even though she lives so damn far away and
4) I love her very much and would really prefer to give her a pie in person, for real.
But that said, she correctly named the movie ("My Best Friend's Wedding") and the actress (Cameron Diaz) which I quoted in italicized form in this morning's post and therefore she wins this virtual pie.Love you, Nic.
The main thing to accomplish for The Child's Sweet 16 party was her cake. Which she envisioned in her chosen colors (chocolate brown and pink). Polka dots were involved. Despite my noteworthy stint as Worst Mother in the World, she seems to believe I can do anything. Like make a cake worthy of Duff Goldman. 'Cept the truth be told, I can barely ice a cake without embarrassing myself. (Reason number 13 Why I Love Pie: You don't have to ice it). But The Child, you see, wanted fondant. I knew exactly what she had in her head. I could see it, too. Just not so much with the execution. Also, I worked with fondant maybe a dozen years ago, in an effort to make "ribbons" for a cake for my parents' 40th wedding anniversary or something like that. And I had help. And it was just a decorative touch, not the entire set piece. Are you getting the picture?
First thing I did was buy fondant. I've made it. It can be made. But really, why would you when someone else has done the work already? That's right. And the woman who was selling the fondant had some in very hot pink. Which could be muted with some of the pure white fondant, thus saving me not so much time (still had to knead the stuff) but mess (like when I had to dye AND knead the brown fondant).
Here's the fondant in its larval state:
And this is how the pink turned out. Much toned down, right?
My original plan was just to cover each layer in fondant, decorate with the requested polka dots and let it go at that. The first layer of brown fondant was easy enough. But when it came to covering the round layers I was suddenly confronted with engineering issues. Like, how do you make the fondant all straight and flush to the cake when what it wants naturally to do is drape?
Well, if you're anything like me and you really don't have time to research the problem, you use your imagination. Hey! That looks like a skirt, doesn't it? A few polka dots, a nice bow at the back...
From a distance, and with plenty of distracting gee gawgery, it didn't look half bad.
The beef stew pot pies are about to come out of the oven so I'll just say a few words.
Obfuscate.
Theorem.
Pandowdy.
Also, I would like to thank all of you for the delightful pies. They made me feel much better.
Except that at one point today I was over in the Director's office talking with someone and I mentioned that my arm hurt because I'd gotten my flu shot and one of the dudes from Public Affairs walked by and popped me right in my owie arm. And called me a "wimp". It's OK, though. When he wasn't looking I went into his office and licked all his office supplies.
I might need more pie. Or maybe some of the raspberry sorbet that's in the freezer.
I got my flu shot today. I've never gotten one before but it's strongly encouraged at work, what with being in a hospital setting, and it's paid for so I did it.
Now, even though I've been moving it around like a crazy person, my arm really, really hurts.
Don't get me wrong. I'm glad for the protection and I now feel free to lick people who are coughing and hacking, but my arm really, really hurts.
Now that you feel sufficently sorry for me, please send pie.
First, MAB will be back in the office. This will be beyond superfantastic because just between you and me, I can run the House by myself but I do not want to! Every day just piled on a little more care and weary and there are some monster bags under my eyes now. I will be very, very happy to share the load again. Not to mention, she is hysterical and the mirth factor has decreased by 63% in her absence.
Secondly, of course, within a few short hours both MAB and I (and all our fellow G-men and women) will have a new boss, whose delightful visage will hang in all the lobbies and shine down so handsomely upon us.
And I. Can't. Wait.
There is NOTHING so beautiful to me as this ordered, peaceful transfer of power. And pretty much anywhere in the world that power is transferred peacefully it is because we showed the way. This is one of the great achievements of American democracy, if you ask me, and it is a beautiful thing no matter who is taking the reins.
(The fact that this time it happens to be my guy is just icing on the cake).
The day will conclude when we come together with The Neighbor to enjoy chili and sweet potato pie (two things the new President enjoys...although last night I had a dream that there was a smoked sausage craze sweeping the nation owing to the President's love of same and I woke up in a smidge of a panic because we are fresh out of sausage). We will also have champang-ya. And watch recaps of the day's events.
Meanwhile, I'm going to get into the office early because a) MAB doesn't have her key and 2) I want to start watching coverage on our little office TV until the moment comes to watch the swearing-in on the Jumbotron. This really should be a freaking federal holiday.
Happy joy, my friends, happy joy. May the superfantasticness of your day be exceeded only by the fizziness of your champang-ya.
This tree is a few houses down from ours. I wish you could have seen it this morning. It was alive with birds, foraging for the last of whatever seed or berry it bears. Sometimes a whole flock of them would fly over to The Neighbor's to scavenge bits of apple and cherry that haven't yet been taken by the squirrels and crows and then they'd fly back to this tree to chatter and chirp and peck. It was a Thanksgivingy sort of scene and it made me very happy.
I am thankful for many things this year, not the least of them being a meaningful, fun job and the fact that I get to eat a glorious Thanksgiving meal without lifting a finger. (Not quite true...I chopped onions yesterday. But turns out I didn't bake because some women's group came by yesterday afternoon with 3 pies...and we already had 3 plus cakes and I really was in the mood to eat the pie that others baked rather than fuss myself. So instead I've been very lazy this morning and I'm thankful for that. And for pie).
And of course, among all the many gifts and graces in my life, I'm thankful for you, gentle blog buddy. I hope you have a very lovely day.
Could everyone please meet me in the conference room? I have a few announcements.
(Shuffles papers, adjusts "serious" glasses, pinches finger on clipboard. Ow).
First of all, thank you for wearing a shirt, Sling. Productivity in the secretarial pool is up 60%.
On the subject of dress code, just a reminder that "casual Friday" does not mean "no pants", JP.
Moving on, please note for your records that The Child will be attending Second Choice High this fall and we will now be referring to it as simply "High School" for the duration. We still had not heard from First Choice as of July 1 and since we now have to start paying tuition we are officially committed. Please know that The Child is quite content with this decision as is the Parental Board. Not to mention, I look way better in the school colors, which are red and white. Green and gold wash me out something terrible.
After months of trying, I am pleased to report that The Dog has slain his first rat. He is walking very tall and proud and we are going to get him a little belt and put notches on it.
Now then, I have asked Senator Russ Feingold to address the group with an important message. Senator Feingold?
Thank you, Senator. I'm sure we can all appreciate the importance of contacting our representatives while they are home for the 4th of July break and making it clear that the present FISA legislation must be stopped. I recognize that there may be those of you who are not concerned about the notion of illegal wiretaps and corporate collaboration, taking the position that you aren't doing anything wrong so you have nothing to worry about. While I applaud your character, I'd like to point out that this is a very naive position. When any government has unlimited power to spy on its citizens, the government ends up defining "doing wrong". History is replete with examples of people who were deemed "wrong" by their government by virtue of their religion, ethnicity, politics, or simply by the company they kept. Tomorrow we celebrate the founding of this nation. I think it would be a lovely gesture if we all did our part to see to it that the Constitution is not further sullied by the most unAmerican, unpatriotic administration in our nations history. Bastids.
Alright, looking ahead on the calendar you'll see that The Child leaves on her mission trip this Sunday, July 6 and is returning on Friday. Also, July 16th brings season 5 of Project Runway. I know you are all looking forward to some tranny fierce recaps. And let's see, what else? Oh, yes, the annual Forth o' Juleye Trailer Trash extravaganza has been cancelled this year. All the family hooha has depleted my will to wear pleather faux alligator capris and drink beer out of a can. I do still plan to make corn dogs, however.
I think that's everything. Thank you for your attention. There is pie in the break room and plenty o...Hat? Alrighty then. Meeting adjourned...you'd better get to the pie while you still can.
Top of the ninth, Obama slams a home run to make it 12 in a row. Hillary comes up in the bottom of the inning, 2 men on, and hits a little piffer...just to to the fence, but it was enough to bring in the two on the bags as she rounded the bases. Extra innings!
"Uh, Lorraine?" you say. "He still has more delegates than she does. She hardly tied it up. And they still don't have numbers from the Texas caucuses".
"I know", says me. "I'm horrible at sports analogies. But baseball, politics and apple pie, baby, that's the American trifecta right there". "Uh, that's another sports analogy. Now you're mixing metaphors. Are you sure you were an English major?" says you.
"I said there was pie!" says me
"Oh!" says you, grinning,"Excellent!"
John King's map is the coolest thing in the world. It's like a giant iPhone programmed just for politics. I want to play with it so bad I can't stand it. CNN should have some kind of contest where the winner gets to come for one election night and mess around with the map. And I should win that contest so I can say things like, "Now, having said that, Wolf, let's look at what happens if Obama does well in Pennsylvania" and then I get to touch the state and it expands and turns all dark blue and everything. Man, that would just be the coolest EVER.
OK, so all I have is an Excel spreadsheet and the way I see it, Obama has to win all the remaining contests by 80% or better before he racks up enough delegates to clinch the nomination. And even I know that isn't going to happen.
Nope, this one is going all the way to the convention, unless one of them has a serious misstep before then. And considering that Hillary has been deemed down for the count 3 times already...."Thef y guragur", says you. "Please, stop talking with your mouthful," says me...we're talking about a misstep that will necessarily have to be of gargantuan proportion.
So what does that mean, sports fans?
It means that for the first time in a long time, every state has a legitimate say in the outcome of the primary season. Every vote, from Guam to Pennsylvania to Oregon to Wyoming is going to matter to the candidates. That is what democracy looks like.
It means we aren't going to get any relief from the talk of superdelegates and the fear of a brokered convention. Now, if by "brokered" we mean delegates on the floor, arguing the thing out and swapping votes, like at a caucus, I say 'bring it on'. If, by "brokered" we mean superdelegates with cigars in a back room with Howard Dean, that would suck. (Love me some Dean, don't get me wrong. But I really hope that a guy who was the first to understand the power of the grassroots in the age of the internets doesn't forget that this is about the will of the people, not "what's best for the party" as determined by a bunch of suits. I should probably write him a letter).
There are only two people right now who should be concerned about what's best for the party. And their names are Hillary and Barack. Whatever they do, however they proceed from here on out should be done in such a way that we don't have to call in a Hazmet crew before we can unify around the candidate.
Mike Huckabee conceded last night. It was gracious. He quoted too much Scripture (which made me thankful that he conceded because while I am quite the fan of the Bible, I do not generally enjoy it being quoted at me by politicians). He noted that the contest with McCain had been respectful and civil, far more so than the contest between the Democrats. He's right about that and both camps, Clinton's particularly, need to make a note of it.
Oh, sure, I know that there is going to be credence now that "going negative" is what helped her win last night. Gawd, I hope that's not true. If the only way she thinks she can beat this guy is by being aggressive and negative, that says way more than I like about the kind of person she is. Last night The Spouse described the Clintons as "terriers". And he didn't mean that in a cute, fuzzy way. He went on to suggest that it is that "sink in your teeth and shake it till it's dead" thing is part of what so many on the other side find objectionable about the Clintons. He could be right about that.
The pressure will be on Obama to fight back, to return negative for negative or worse yet, to go on the offensive and dig up crap. Lord, spare us. The GOP will just be sitting on the sidelines taking notes for the general. We cannot give them fuel to the fire.
Hillary, Hillary, Hillary PLEASE play nice. Tell us what you want to do, by all means, but please do not drag Obama through the mud to do it. Because, whether you like it or not, this guy is the future of our party. If he doesn't win he'll be back in 4 or 8 years to run again. Please, for the love of apple pie, puleeeeeeeze keep the big picture in mind. I'm beggin' here, Hills.
Hello? Is this thing on?
Dammit.
Anymorass, the pundits were saying last night what an advantage McCain has now, with months to "introduce himself" to the public and "solidify his message". Whatever. A) America knows who John McCain is and 2) I still maintain that a contest that includes every state in the Union is not a bad thing for the Democrats. There's a whole lotta party building going on right now and we're going to need that machine in the general. Let's remember that this contest isn't just about getting a Democrat in the White House. It's also about increasing the Democratic majority so that no matter who wins, we can actually get something done. (This is very important if we want things like universal health care to become a reality. It's critical if McCain wins...particularly if we are going to get out of Iraq in my lifetime).
Meanwhile, McCain is going to go have lunch with Bush and then have a make-out session with him in the Rose Garden. Getting George W Bush's endorsement. Wow. That's kinda like Lynn Spears nominating you for Mother of the Year.
Last night The Child was watching McCain's acceptance speech and she noted that he seemed nice. "Yep," I said, "and if that nice man is elected, your sweet ass will be going over to Iraq in 4 years". She blanched. I do think it is important to note that those of us with kids and grandkids (plus nieces, nephews and family friends) of a certain age best be very wary of a man who insists that staying in Iraq for 100 years is a good idea, unless you're really willing to serve up your baby for that particular cause. Because I'm telling you right now, we don't have the military to sustain even a few more years over there, let alone 100. The draft will have to be reinstated. And this time girls will go, too.
Still fine with McCain? That's what I thought.
On another note, why is it the President swears to uphold the Constitution on the religious book of his/her choice? Shouldn't the President swear to uphold the Constitution on the Constitution?
Also, apparently Hills hinted this morning that she's open to sharing the ticket with Barack. The more I think about it, that's exactly what should happen. They are both strong candidates with a ton to offer. Give the top spot to the person with the most delegates and let the other one ride shotgun. Win/win.
And finally, two towns in Vermont last night voted to order the police to arrest Bush and/or Cheney if they ever come to town. The crime? Not upholding the Constitution. Now there's a city ordinance I'd get behind.
Theme Song for the Day:
Queen "I Want It All"
The pie will be ready this afternoon. Bring a fork.
I am not at a PTA meeting this morning. This is me, being light of heart.
There are also merits to taking the high road. The Child had a volleyball game last night and many of the parents are the same ones who were being ridiculous on the weekend. I am happy to report that everyone was absolutely lovely to each other, laughing and joking and cheering for our kids like we always do. Maybe even more than we usually do. It was terrific.
The game? They went in with an undefeated record. Not so much now. However, it bears noting that after being smashed in the first game they came back and won the 2nd game 25-9. The Child was responsible for about 6 of those points, including her first ever spike at the net. It was a little piff of a thing but it surprised the frak out of the opposing team. And Bad Coach. And the snotty Princess. And The Child. Tee.
The girls started out with a 6 point lead in the 3rd game and then it went back and forth. Sadly, they lost, but they made the other team work for it, with a final score of 27-25. Hardly a drubbing. And for the record, our girls, who are 13 and 14, are "playing up", which means they have been facing high school sophomores and juniors all season. They so rock.
The Child still hates Bad Coach, who is still a Bad Coach and an idiot. But she told me last night that she wants to play CYO in the spring, even if he's the coach. (I continue to work behind the scenes to see to it that we have a good coach in the spring. I didn't engender all this political clout in my years on PTA for nuthin'. I know people. I'm going to work that like a mule in a field).
Meanwhile, parents are begging me to reconsider sending The Child to DC. Some of the folks that were such jerks at the rummage sale are even asking the head guy to credit their take to The Child's account. How do I feel about that? I'm not sure. On one hand, if I can send her without doing anymore fundraising and without paying for it myself, that would be a good thing. On the other, I'm still not sure, given a whole lot of stuff, whether this is really the group of kids with whom I want her spending a week in DC. I'm going to think and pray on it and talk to The Principal and see where that takes me. It'll take a very large and bright shiny sign to change my mind. Not to mention, Hat and I are seriously thinking that taking Rosie up on her suggestion of a road trip, with The Child, to Sandpoint in May. That sounds delicious. Almost delicious as pie. But not mincemeat.
About Mincemeat
Way back in the day, when there wasn't refrigeration and like that there, folks came up with a groovy idea for dealing with leftover meat that had begun to turn They chopped it up super fine, mixed it with strong liquors, dried fruits and other masking agents, popped it in a pastry and said, "Yum". Then they all died of food poisoning. But somehow the idea lived on.
Down the culinary road a pace, someone figured out that instead of rancid meat they should use fruit, like apples and green tomatoes. That's the sort of thing you find in most prepared jars of mincemeat today. But recipes I found for making the stuff from scratch very often still include some meat and suet. Personally, anything that calls for suet is a non-starter for me. Eeeww.
Anypie, many years ago I was on staff in the Continuing Education office at my alma mater. My boss was a charming, elegant man of refined tastes. The sort of gentleman you could picture in a smoking jacket, having a snifter of brandy in the parlour while his equally elegant and refined wife played a little Chopin on the baby grand. One Christmas he hosted a dinner party in his equisitely appointed home for the entire staff. A long table was set with a crisp white cloth, English bone china and gleaming silver candlesticks. The meal, which he and his wife had prepared, was a sumptuous event with many courses. We started with Oysters Rockefeller and, I think, champagne (the school was by mandate a tea total sort of place but that did not apply to the lifestyles of many players off campus) and ended with pie.
Mincemeat pie. Very lovely looking pie, flakey and perfectly browned crust from which oozed luxurious mincemeat. 'Cept, it was traditional mincemeat. As in beef. As in beef with sugar and apples and raisins. You know what? You cannot douse beef with enough brandy to make someone forget that they are eating sugared meat.
I love sweet and savory combinations. But there are limits. Would you put hard sauce on a burrito? Whipped cream on turkey? No. Meat is not a dessert. There. I said it.
I must away. I shall leave you with this, a little sumpin sumpin found recently while reading about pie. It made me laugh.
From Epulario (The Italian Banquet), published in 1598. The English translation:
To Make Pie That the Birds May Be Alive In them and Flie Out When It Is Cut Up
Make the coffin of a great pie or pastry, in the bottome thereof make a hole as big as your fist, or bigger if you will, let the sides of the coffin bee somwhat higher then ordinary pies, which done put it full of flower and bake it, and being baked, open the hole in the bottome, and take out the flower. Then having a pie of the bigness of the hole in the bottome of the coffin aforesaid, you shal put it into the coffin, withall put into the said coffin round about the aforesaid pie as many small live birds as the empty coffin will hold, besides the pie aforesaid. And this is to be at such time as you send the pie to the table, and set before the guests: where uncovering or cutting up the lid of the great pie, all the birds will flie out, which is to delight and pleasure shew to the company. And because they shall not bee altogether mocked, you shall cut open the small pie, and in this sort you may make many others, the like you may do with a tart.
Love you, Nic.
Love you, Nic.
