Oh Baby, Cake

My Shelby has a gift for baking cakes.  Let's admit it, some cakes look good but don't taste good.  Some cakes taste good but don't look good.

She manages to accomplish both. 

With the exception of this one. 

This was one of her first attempts several years ago and if you look really close you can see the gills on the sides are falling off.  It slowly caved in all over.

But it tasted good.

This weekend she had the opportunity to make a baby shower cake.  She has steered clear of baby showers because of the pressure to bake the perfect cake.  She did not trust herself.

She agreed to this shower several weeks ago.  Shelby is self taught and put much extra work and preparation into planning this one - reading up, watching some videos, and experimenting with different icings, homemade fondants, and gum paste.

It paid off.

She created a beautiful and delicious chocolate baby shower cake.

Her Daddy molded the baby sculpture.

Love that ring.

She made homemade fondant for the blanket . . .

and lovingly snuggled that baby right up in it.

She baked and icinged and molded eyes and mouth and dots and letters for a total of eight hours in the creating of that cake.

So she's a perfectionist.  That never hurt anyone, did it?  Ok, not alot of profit in it, I admit.  But the learning benefits and the work ethic outweigh the profit benefits by far now in her young life.

She dreams of being a stay-at-home mom and homeschooling her brood of eight.  This talent is one way she hopes to contribute to the success of that dream.

More power to her and all young women like her who have the vision of mamas staying with their babies longer.

My pores are seeping again.

Should Have Already Done This . . .

This is something I should have posted forty-three days ago.  I let everything else (and a little illness) get ahead of showing you pictures of the beautiful birthday cake Shelby made for her and Max's birthday in January.

Lateness is a pet peeve of mine.  I'm late occassionally, but I try to be on time.  But I messed up here.  Apologies to my two lovies - and I must say, what a beautiful cake you made, Shelby.

I'm going to show you the inside first, 'cause it is my favorite part.

Yep, she's talented.  Trust me, they taste as good as they look.  Homemade buttercream icing, yum.

We needed a rainbow cake that night.  Mom planned our second annual scavenger hunt (check out last year's here) and it rained all evening.  We don't actually hunt things, she gives us a list of places we must go and things we must do and we bring back a photo of us doing it.  Even though it was wet and cold, she didn't let us off the hook, we had to scavenge anyway.

 



















They are not really eighteen and three.  This is a dream and tomorrow I will wake with babes in my arms.

Or so I would like to think . . .

Aprons, Part 2

Back to the basics.  Back to aprons. 
http://justcallmerie.blogspot.com/2009/10/youve-come-long-way-baby.html

I promised you a part 2, and here it is.

Today's apron has come a long way since the 12th century.  Like aprons, we do not have to stay the same.  Unchanged.  Unmoved.  Stifled.  We can grow and blossom and bloom into the beautiful creature God intended for us to be - but only if we prepare ourselves.  Like today's aprons we can be beautiful with a purpose.  Our Father's purpose.

I challenge you all, if you don't already have one, to find an apron you love and begin wearing it.  It will make you feel pretty and powerful.  More importantly, find within yourself your purpose - and wear it proudly.  Stains and all.

My sister, P., will not blog.  She says she knows her weaknesses all too well.  I think she's not giving her strengths enough credit.  I enjoy her writings often and wanted to share them with you - and, as usual, when I ask, she gives.  I'm six years older than she, but for years now I have been wondering exactly who is the big sister here.

Enjoy my guest blogger - my sister, P., and her musings on aprons.  Be careful, she'll get 'ya thinking.

Have you ever known anyone like this? No matter where they are—fine restaurant, cheap fast food, or at their own dinner table—they are going to drop something on their shirt. Maybe you are this person, I know I am. I have a friend that used to laugh at me about it, but has recently discovered that she is fast becoming a part of this special breed. The problem for her is that she hasn’t been like this for long. Thus, she hasn’t learned the fine art of checking EVERYTHING in case it needs to be sprayed BEFORE you wash it! She has ruined quite a few shirts lately because of this fatal error.

I not only have this problem when I eat, I also have the “spillage” problem when I cook. Since I bake often it is not uncommon for my sweet husband to come home and find me much dirtier than when he left for work. Then one day I got a brilliant idea: why don’t I wear an apron?

It is amazing the thoughts that go through my brain sometimes.

Now, in some areas, I am not a simple person. Most of my ideas are not-so-simple things. When I get ideas, I get ideas! I have a friend (the same one who is now a sister-stainer) that often laughs at my inability to just do something. She says that I wander … you know what I mean. I will get an idea and then make the statement, “I wonder (wander) if I could make it better if I did this or that?” I am never satisfied with just using the same ol’ wheel. I have to reinvent it. So, when I got the brilliant idea of an apron, I had to find the “perfect” one. Thus began my googling search for an apron pattern. And, I found it. I spent way too much on the pattern only to have it arrive and discover that the apron was cute, but not sufficient to cover my entire boob area. I hate those one-size-fits-most things.

This is where my sweet husband came in. He is really great at just about everything. Do you have one of those?

He drew some new strap pieces for me and redesigned the main part so that it would cover most of my rear. (I have that bad habit of wiping my hands on the sides of my rear instead of a towel … oh well)

Finally I got what I was looking for! Now I can enter my kitchen (actually, my sister says that I never leave it) and not get disgusting while I cook. My apron has just the right amount of material to offer ample coverage for my boobies and my rear. I even have a rather large pocket on the front. I only use it for my cell phone, but I like it the size it is. This apron does an excellent job of keeping me clean.

Did you know that the Bible speaks of aprons? Well, not exactly in the term “apron,” but the idea is similar. In Ephesians 6, Paul writes to the people of God about being “strong in the Lord” (v.10). He tells God’s people that they should “take up the full armor of God” (v.13). Verse 14 also instructs them to “put on the breastplate of righteousness.”

Did you see the apron? It is called the "breastplate of righteousness."

Can you tell that I am a girly-girl? Most everyone else sees “knightly” armor like King Arthur would have worn, but no, not me. I see an apron.

Even though Paul discusses several different pieces, I just want to look at the breastplate of righteousness (the apron). Romans 3:10 tells us that “there is none righteous, not even one.” Jesus tells us in Matthew 6:33 that we should “seek first His kingdom and HIS righteousness.” Second Corinthians 5:21 states that “He (God) made Him (Jesus) who knew no sin to be sin ON OUR BEHALF, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.”

You see, when I put on my breastplate of righteousness, I am putting on Christ’s righteousness. And His righteousness is more than sufficient for any “mess” I might face during my day. The Bible tells us that “His strength is perfect” (Phil 4:13) and that “…God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able ” I do not have to worry about my breastplate of righteousness being too small in some areas. God knows exactly what size I need (unlike my one-size-fits-most apron pattern).

When I put my apron on I am ready to do battle … kitchen battle. I can handle just about any mess that will come my way. It becomes my covering as well as my towel. I can face my counter top and my stove with confidence!

The armor of God does the same for a Christian. We become outfitted to do battle—spiritual battle.

So, how’s your spiritual apron? Are you wearing it today? If not, spend some time seeking first His kingdom and then go put that other apron on and make something chocolate to celebrate!

“I will rejoice greatly in the Lord, my soul will exult in my God; for He has clothed me with garments of salvation. He has wrapped me with a robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.” Isaiah 61:10 nasb

You've Come A Long Way, Baby

Months ago my dad-in-law forwarded an email to me about grandma's apron.  It was a poem about how grandma's apron was used.  I remember it mentioning her gathering eggs in it, shooing flies away, using it as a potholder, and wiping away tears with it.  It was a lovely little poem and I should have kept it.  It reminded me of my Ma.

Today's aprons are hip and happening. They are not just for protecting clothes any longer - they are the clothes.  It's all the rage to wear an apron in place of carrying a purse.  A bib apron with pockets instead of a purse, interesting.  Better than a fanny pack.  Anything's better than a fanny pack.  Smock type aprons with criss-cross backs over T-shirts, interesting.  You can't keep a good thing down.  I like the idea.  I have a meeting Tuesday night and I might give this fad a try.    

My daughter, Shelby, never cooks without an apron on.  Unlike me, who never wears one.  But, since they are now hip and happening, maybe I should change that.  Because, you know, I'm all about hip and happening.  Just ask my girls.  Well, maybe not, they think I live in another century.

Below are some photos of some of my favorite aprons.

This one deserves to be first, it was my Ma's.  One of my safely tucked away treasures. My mama guesses it to be at least 51 years old.  The top strap was ripped selvage from a piece of fabric - she was frugal.  Check out the safety pin, there was always a safety pin.  When Ma died I put this in a little plastic zippy and for years I could smell her when I opened it.  Sad, I know.  Let's move on.

This one was a gift to Shelby from her Aunt R.  Lovely and hip, just like its owner - and her aunt.

This was the first item Isabela ever sewed.  She made it at Children's Camp when she was 8.  Check out the stitching.


My dear mother goes through things in spurts.  She may make quilts for months - and then, never again.  Florals for months, making wreaths, candles, spray painting the furniture.  Then she never does that particular hobby again.  Lately, she's been making aprons.  Below are some of hers.  I'm not good at secrets - Merry Christmas early, my sweet sisters.  Don't worry, my mama can't keep Christmas secrets, either, so I'm really not spilling any beans.  Under each one I will share a little interesting apron tid-bit.

You can track aprons back to the 12th century.  The word originates from the French word naperon, which means napkin or small tablecloth.

Men wore them first for hygienic protective wear (that's a mouthful, why don't we just say to keep clean).

In the 16th and 17th century the color you wore determined your trade.  Barbers wore checked, butchers and porters wore green, and masons wore white. 

This is the one I might wear, if I can bear to leave my purse behind.  With jeans and a cute little shirt.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Below are a few aprons my sister, P., has made, along with a few more tid-bits.  P. always wears an apron and has passed that love down to her daughter.

Your beau is thinking of you if your apron becomes untied. Isn't that sweet? Tie those aprons loosely, ladies.

The "tied to his mama's apron strings" phrase rings true. Children really were tied to their mama's aprons so they could play closely and safely.

The 1940's saw the beginning of the frilly, little half apron.

My beautiful neice, S., in an apron she made herself.

While cruising the aisles of Hobby Lobby recently I discovered a great little book.

A is for Apron, by Nathalie Mornu.  This book has templates and patterns in the back -but they must be enlarged.  If you love aprons or sew aprons, you need this book.  Fun and interesting with aprons way too good-lookin' to hide away in the kitchen.

Aprons, they cover us and protect us.  They make life easier.  Check back later for part two on aprons, from a secret guest blogger.

To my sister P., Happy late Birthday.  This book is yours, it's making its way to you in a little bubble envelope as you read this.  I love you, adore you, and miss you - make me the one on page 81, 'k?

A Life, A Death, and Pasta Salad

I have a recipe for you. It's tangy and zangy and zippy and I promise you will like it. 

But first I must reminisce about a friend who was an excellent cook.  I dined with her on many occasions, usually walking away thinking that I really needed to get her recipe for another scrumptious treat she had made.  She is gone now and I have only one of her recipes.  The irony?  The name of it - Confetti Pasta Salad.

The definition of confetti goes something like this, "enhances the gaiety of a festive event . . . carnivals, weddings, parades."

Marianne was born twenty-three years before me.  She was twenty-nine and I was six when we met.  Marianne was my Girl's in Action leader at church.  I remember slumber parties at her house and baking cookies for the nursing home.  As a child I remember hearing the women of our church speaking of her miscarriages, one after another for ten years before she was blessed with rocking her firstborn, a son.  A year later, the added blessing of a baby girl.  That baby girl would one day babysit my own little girls.

When Gregg and I married, Marianne and her husband were the first to treat us as adults.  She left my childhood in the past and gave me my first "duties" at church.  I never remember a time that Marianne was on the outside looking in.  We did not always get along.  Probably because in the grand scheme of things we were two peas in a pod, and sometimes there is only room for one (at least that's what peas like us think).

In 2004 Marianne was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and by the spring of 2005 she was face to face with Jesus.

"Dying is a very dull, dreary affair.  And my advice to you is to have nothing whatever to do with it."
W. Somerset Maugham

Marianne was never dull or dreary, not even in the last days of her life.  She would not have liked that quote. She faced the giant of death as she did all other giants in her life - she put it in it's place.

I never got the opportunity to comfort her - I would cry and she would comfort.  I sat at her bedside less than twenty-four hours before she died.  Pain medication made her speech slurred and she rambled some, and nothing could hide the regret she had that she would never know the ones who would love and marry her children and that she would never hold a grandchild.

Marianne taught me many things from the years of being my teacher to my mentor.  By her example I learned what to be, and she would not mind me saying - I learned some ways not to be. Even with her no longer here I catch myself wondering, in certain situations, what she would do.  There are times I want to respond exactly how she would and other times I know to run in the opposite direction.  But aren't those the only kind of friends worth having?  The ones that let you see who they really are - and you love them anyway, and they you.

She was kind with high expectations, stubborn with high expectations, gracious with high expectations, and critical with high expectations. She was loving and she was my friend. All that mushed up together made one incredible and real woman.

Marianne was a Christian, a musician, a seamtress, a gardner, a mother, a wife, and a cook.  She "enhanced the gaiety of life."  See the irony?  Confetti Pasta Salad, my one and only recipe from her. Life's sense of humor.  Good thing I've got the memories. 

Miss you, Marianne.  Keep a bowl of pasta waiting and one day we'll catch up.

"The only service a friend can really render is to keep up your courage by holding up to you a mirror in which you can see a noble image of yourself." - G. B. Shaw

Marianne's Confetti Pasta Salad

12 oz. Vermicelli pasta, cooked and drained
1/2 bottle (2.62 oz.) Salad Supreme seasoning
1 pkg. dry Italian dressing mix
1 1/2 c. Italian salad dressing
1c. chopped green pepper
1 small chopped purple onion
1 flat can chopped black olives
1 can diced tomatoes, drained

In large bowl mix cooked vermicelli with all above ingredients.  Toss well.  Cover and refrigerate overnight.  Toss several times while it marinates.  Add more liquid dressing if dry. serves 12.

Naughty but Nice

What I am fixin' to do is not nice. Check out the photo of this heavenly treat.  This recipe belongs to my daughter, Shelby.  It's delectable and irresistible.  Every dreamy bite is homemade. A secret ingredient or two makes it impossible to pirate and also makes it impossible for me to share. Looks like a hostess cake, huh?

Trust me - if Mr. or Mrs. Hostess tasted this they'd slap their mama!  Don't try that at home.

There are women out there, like my friend S., who are brimming over with hospitality. That little green monster in me comes out when I witness how they wrap others up in their coziness and warmth.  I'm more of a "go-fetch-it-yourself" kind of girl.  These women would throw me under the train for that little tempting morsal I just gave you - gave you but then sorta took back.  Can't help it, a secret is a secret and a promise is a promise.  

Now I'll be nice.  There is a little gem of a book out there which is out of print that you must read. This book, written by P.B.Wilson, was given to me about seven years ago by my sister, Penny.  She is the best person I know at finding hidden treasures to improve yourself and your home. Though out of print, Amazon has several new and used copies for sale through individuals.
 http://www.alibris.com/booksearch.detail?invid=9920875715&author=Wilson%2C+P+Bunny&browse=1&qwork=7731683&qsort=&page=1

This book is simple, an easy read, but a Warning:  some might call it the dreaded "old fashioned"! If being in the kitchen doesn't float your boat you will hear God speak to you through this one.  And, face it ladies, it's one of the places we belong.

If you are like me and love the kitchen but your hospitality skills are sorely lacking, then curl up with this book.  I still don't have a pie in the fridge at all times or a pitcher of lemonade chilling for those unexpected visitors.  The rug always needs vacuuming and my dishwasher door seems to be in a permanent state of open, but I can be encouraged and inspired by her words.

I loaned my copy out a couple of years back to a young new wife.  She must have liked it.  So, Amazon is now minus one copy.  Step up to the plate, ladies, and make your home a haven.

"And having a reputation for good works: if she has brought up children, has shown hospitality, has washed the feet of the saints, has cared for the afflicted, and has devoted herself to every good work." 1 Timothy 5:10