Not Just Like Clay

About a year ago, I got this crazy idea in my head that I could make beautiful cakes. I enjoy baking immensely, even more so now that I have my own kitchen to explode in. My first attempt was the house cake I made last year for my house warming party. The cake was a mold and the icing was crumby but it was cute. I then made a cake completely covered in inedible fondant and decorated with fondant cut-out leaves. That actually turned out very well as my first attempt at smoothing a cake with fondant. My elaborate baking dreams have mostly been a vague inclination since.

That being said, the cake I made for my 1-year house party turned out really good. The icing wasn't as crumby, and even though I ran out of the color I wanted to use for the roof, I had enough of a complimentary color to finish it off. This house was quite a bit more elaborate than the last one (with shingles instead of flat icing for the roof, and yellow gel in the windows instead of just colored icing). Jack said it was impressive.

While browsing through Cake Wrecks one day, I came across a cake that was made to look like a Stargate! It was awesome! LDS and I have dreams of making that cake some day. We're going to have a Stargate party. I already know what I need: fondant for the gate, piping gel for the event horizon, and something to make it look like metal. Maybe pearl dust will do. I'll have to come back to the Stargate cake later.

A new idea hit me yesterday. I recently learned of a decorating compound called gum paste (yes, I was mostly "how the heck do they do that?!" when it came to cake decorations). One of my Etsy friends (she has the MOST AWESOME blog in the world. Seriously, her recipes are unbelievable) wrote about the birthday cake she made for her mother that was decorated with gum paste butterflies. I need to make these butterflies! But I also needed to learn about gum paste, having only worked with fondant for my cake sculpting before (and lots of people really don't like fondant, even if it's made to taste good).

Most of my research said that shaping gum paste is a lot like shaping clay. I've worked a lot with clay in the past, and I can say that gum paste is nothing like clay! But that's not going to stop me.

So, I won't tell you what this idea is for just yet, but here's a little gum paste sand castle to get you thinking! The dusty "sand" is brown sugar, and I plan to apply more when the thing actually gets on a cake (and it will, you'll see!).

Yes, Virginia, there is a Renaissance Faire

I worked four Sundays at the Virginia Renaissance Faire this year. It was a lot of fun, and the lovely lady I worked with wants me to join the cast and be full-time next year. I did really enjoy it, but I'll have to think about it. It is a long way to go, though dad and I can drive together on Sundays.

VARF tends to be more historical than the MD faire, making most of what I have not really workable for this faire. It's also a few decades later than MD, and fashion does tend to change with the monarch. I dove into costume research (ah, heaven!), learning about styles and colors, and made a costume suitable for a peasant working in the militia outdoor kitchen, and that won't kill me in the VA May heat.

I did ask someone to take a picture of me in the full outfit, but I guess it didn't work, because it's not on my camera. So, you'll have to settle for these dressform pics.


The little white thing at the top is my caul or muffin cap. It is related to the snood, but counts as a hat in its own right, where a proper woman would don a hat over her snood when going out. I could or could not wear a hat over the caul, but it otherwise sits about where a snood would sit.

The bottom layer is the shift. A working woman would have two, one to wear while the other is being washed. I had to adjust mine a little. I found an historical pattern, but it made the sleeves too tight and I couldn't roll them up to my elbows, which is where I would want them when working about the fire. I had to rip the seams out and add some ties so I could wear them rolled up or all the way down as weather and what I was doing demanded.

I typically would wear a corset over the shift (if the corset was not built into the outer garment), but I forwent that because of the heat and wore a modern girdle underneath it all.

This style of overdress is called a kirtle. It can be boned or not boned, laced in front or in back, open to the floor or sewn up partially or all the way to the neckline. The kirtle typically had sleeves that you could tie on which were impractical in the heat and not a requirement, so I omitted them altogether. My kirtle laces in the back with fabric loops, which look nicer than grommets (that can rust and tear fabric when they fall out) in my opinion. One could also use hook and eye closures.


I dyed it blue because blue was an easy dye to come by. At first, woad was used, but the spice trade made indigo dye cakes readily available and cheap because they were so easy to transport. Everyone could get their hands on indigo dye, and it made a deeper, more permanent blue than the native woad. My dress faded nicely in the sun.

I made the apron and shoes (not pictured) out of wool, so they would not burn if I got too close to the fire. Also not pictured is my partlet. This little article of clothing covers the neck, chest, and back area that is not covered by the dress or shift. It is worn for warmth and sun protection. I didn't make it right away because it's not a required piece of clothing, but I got a nasty sun burn that first day and instantly learned the value of the partlet!

Maybe I'll throw the ensemble back on when I have some company and try to get a full shot for you!

I’ve been asked to increase my station a bit for next year. That’s really not possible. There were not a whole lot of class divisions in Elizabethan times. You were either nobility or you were a peasant – and peasants far outnumbered nobility. Even land owners and artisans were peasants. They were wealthy peasants, but peasants nonetheless. I think I will use the same kirtle design, but bolder colors and add some trim. Probably red, green, maybe another blue. The wealthy could afford deeper dyes, and afford to re-dye things to keep their richer colors, so that would step up my outfit a bit. I’ll have to think about it!

House Party

Of course that's not my house! That's my house cake!

I bought the house-shaped pan last year because I knew I would make a cake for my house warming party. It's been a year and the house is warm. I had to throw a house party anyway.

It's the 'I survived a year of mortgage payments' party! Yay! See how the lights are on in the windows? Ah, my cute little house! My first full day in this house was a year ago today.

I had a small, intimate party with lots of food, a walk to the lake, and a small game of croquet.

This is me in my party dress. That crazy cute apron came from Dot's Diner on Etsy. I can't throw a party without a good hostess party dress, can I?

Raise your glass with me to another year!

It Happened Last Year

I signed my life away a year ago today.

My kitchen smells like focaccia. Phantom is sleeping on the cat tree in front of the window. Miss Luna is snoozing on a cool dining chair.

This is the home I made for myself. All on my own.

It is a beautiful day.

I'm Losing It

I was sitting here thinking that I'm hungry and need to eat something. I reached into my bag thinking I will eat my string cheese and save breakfast for a little later. Instead of string cheese, though, my banana presented itself. And I said "Ah, banana!"

I'm glad few people are here this early in the morning to hear me talk to my fruit!

Rake Your Mulch

I have a public service announcement from my Weight Watchers leader!

On Sunday afternoon, she was watching a movie with her husband while the kids were taking a nap. She detected the faint smell of smoke and figured someone lit an outdoor fire pit (it being Memorial Day weekend, that's not unheard of). Some time later, a neighbor was banging frantically on their door. When they opened the door, smoke billowed in and set off the smoke alarms. Almost half of the front porch was ablaze.

The neighbor had already called the fire department who showed up just as everyone got out of the house. They put the fire out and told her the cause: the mulch lining the front porch had spontaneously combusted. The fire department said it's more common than people think and most people don't know it can happen. It tends to happen in the summer, and whole houses have been known to burn down while people are away on vacations.

Mulch is plant material that, we all should know, is combustible. As it decays, it releases heat. When mixed with oxygen, it can cause flame, igniting all the burnable material, producing more heat, consuming more oxygen, spreading more flame. It usually starts inside the pile of mulch, where it's really warm. The fire department recommended raking your mulch at least twice a season to release that heat so it doesn't build up to the point where it will combust. My leader said she's going to do it every time they mow the lawn. Mulch that is new and has been sitting in large piles for a while is of greater risk, as is mulch that is really old and at an advanced stage of decay.

Fortunately, they only lost the front porch which the landlord was going to try to replace anyway.

So, go out and rake your mulch!

Judgment Day

I went to Wine in the Woods, a great big wine tasting festival in Columbia, with Jack and one of his friends, who I think I will call Rachel, on Saturday. I suppose there were some people who thought it a good time to eat, drink, and be merry before the big catching up that was supposed to happen. Those people would say I would have been left behind, but Jesus and I are tight and he would have taken me even though his followers consider me a heathen. I'm sure of it.

Anyway, this is what I remember from Saturday:

Everything got fuzzy and kind of sparkly.

That might have been the many glasses of wine.

I distinctly heard the sound of bells.

Or, maybe that was the sound of my wine glass shattering when I dropped it.

Before I knew it, I was in a soft, warm place and I felt safe and protected.

But that might have been when Jack and I took a nap after we got back to his place.


Judgment, or wine?


Seriously, though, I'm not one to make fun of someone's beliefs but I really have a hard time accepting that so many people spent so much money (that they need to live on) because of one flawed man's idea of the end of days. Really, people - all you believers, the Bible tells you that this thing called Rapture will happen. That's fine, live your life not knowing when you're going to go, ok. That same Bible tells you that no man will know the date. Stop trying to figure it out, that's not how it's supposed to work.

Now, I don't believe as you do, but you can't take one part of the Book and deny the other if you're going to build your faithful life around it. I do not understand how you can believe it will happen but ignore that you've already been told that you won't know when. I bet Yahweh moves the date with every prediction just to keep you guessing. Stop trying to know something that is beyond human capacity to know. Just live your life being a kind, compassionate person who might be taken from this world tomorrow, or next year, or never.

It makes me sad that so many people were so misled.

Today's Theme Song

When you attend a funeral,
It is sad to think that sooner or
Later those you love will do the same for you.
And you may have thought it tragic,
Not to mention other adjec-
Tives, to think of all the weeping they will do.
But don't you worry.
No more ashes, no more sackcloth.
And an armband made of black cloth
Will some day never more adorn a sleeve.
For if the bomb that drops on you
Gets your friends and neighbors too,
There'll be nobody left behind to grieve.

And we will all go together when we go.
What a comforting fact that is to know.
Universal bereavement,
An inspiring achievement,
Yes, we all will go together when we go.

We will all go together when we go.
All suffuse with an incandescent glow.
No one will have the endurance
To collect on his insurance,
Lloyd's of London will be loaded when they go.

Oh we will all fry together when we fry.
We'll be french fried potatoes by and by.
There will be no more misery
When the world is our rotisserie,
Yes, we will all fry together when we fry.

Down by the old maelstrom,
There'll be a storm before the calm.

And we will all bake together when we bake.
There'll be nobody present at the wake.
With complete participation
In that grand incineration,
Nearly three billion hunks of well-done steak.

Oh we will all char together when we char.
And let there be no moaning of the bar.
Just sing out a Te Deum
When you see that I.C.B.M.,
And the party will be "come as you are."

Oh we will all burn together when we burn.
There'll be no need to stand and wait your turn.
When it's time for the fallout
And Saint Peter calls us all out,
We'll just drop our agendas and adjourn.

You will all go directly to your respective Valhallas.
Go directly, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dolla's.

And we will all go together when we go.
Ev'ry Hottentot and ev'ry Eskimo.
When the air becomes uranious,
And we will all go simultaneous.
Yes we all will go together
When we all go together,
Yes we all will go together when we go.

(brought to you by Tom Lehrer. Have a great Rapture! I'll see you all tomorrow!)

I met the Prince of Ethiopia last night

An old friend of Jack's is Serbian. One of the most important feast days in the Serbian Orthodox tradition is the Slava - the feast day of a family's patron saint (in this case, it was St George's feast day, one of the more popular ones). So, Jack and I were invited to the Slava.

His friend's father was commissioner of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission and I think that's how he got so connected. So among the guests was the Prince of Ethiopia, and I believe the princess with him was his daughter.

I shook hands with royalty!!

And then felt thoroughly underdressed!

It was explained to me that the Slava was based on an early pagan tradition where families would feast to honor their personal tribal gods. When they were converted to Christianity, they were given saints to replace those gods so they could still have their big feasts. It is a huge to-do, tons of food, tons of people.

But it was also a ritual feast, you start by eating a bite of a special kind of bread (the name of it escapes me) that's made with unleavened bread to represent the dead and wheat to represent the living, to honor the ancestors. It was really like any other party, but the clergy bless the feast (I believe it was in Serbian) and the people who would partake of the feast.

The Slava is a big holiday so they went all out. Traditionally, since multiple families had the same patron saint, you would just spend the entire day going from house to house to celebrate each Slava.

It was really awesome!

That Day Again

May the Fourth be with you!