Who says the second godchild doesn't get as much attention?
Ok, so there is a little more full contact attention the second time around... a little less sublety in with the looky-loos... but hey - attention is attention.
RTO
6 months ago
Monday, July 31, 2006
Second time around...
Who says the second godchild doesn't get as much attention?
Ok, so there is a little more full contact attention the second time around... a little less sublety in with the looky-loos... but hey - attention is attention.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Burnt Fudge...
My mom is an amazing cook. Her children, unfortunately, are rotten eaters.
At some point in the first years of my life, Mom was experimenting with fudge recipes. She had a tendency to do many things at once and more often than not, the fudge tended to sit in its little pot longer than intended. With a sigh she would chisel it out of the pot and put the broken pieces in the fridge with better hopes next time.
I remember, as vividly as I remember the sewing maching sewing my finger all the way through searching for the burnt fudge in the back of the fridge and thinking it was the most heavenly edible thing ever. It is dry but not too flaky, rich, wonderful.
I had no idea it was not exactly as intended and was naively content that it could be replicated at any time. In the years to come, I was to learn just how mistaken I was... because, you see, my mother finally started not burning it. And the world was forever changed.
For the last fifteen years or so, since the discovery was made that she couldn't intentionally burn it to perfection, I have been hoping against hope that she would perfect the burning process again. Alas, in that time the fudge has come out perfectly burnt only two or three times. Other times, I nod encouragingly and promise I am not too disappointed. You see, my burnt bliss lies in a narrow window between just normal fudge and so burnt Mom has to throw away the pan.
The last time she made it perfect it was unfortunately done exactly as it was in the old days - she simply forgot it was on the stove.
Anyway, in honor of this traumatic struggle we are in, my mom and I are naming our illustration company Burnt Fudge... if we capture the name in time... I'm sure it's a sought after branding.
I was going to wait to publish this as I have been pathetically active in the blog here today but realized that the previous blog's comment about my marriage should be explained as suprisingly enough, not everyone will understand that burnt fudge is actually wonderfully magnificent.
At some point in the first years of my life, Mom was experimenting with fudge recipes. She had a tendency to do many things at once and more often than not, the fudge tended to sit in its little pot longer than intended. With a sigh she would chisel it out of the pot and put the broken pieces in the fridge with better hopes next time.
I remember, as vividly as I remember the sewing maching sewing my finger all the way through searching for the burnt fudge in the back of the fridge and thinking it was the most heavenly edible thing ever. It is dry but not too flaky, rich, wonderful.
I had no idea it was not exactly as intended and was naively content that it could be replicated at any time. In the years to come, I was to learn just how mistaken I was... because, you see, my mother finally started not burning it. And the world was forever changed.
For the last fifteen years or so, since the discovery was made that she couldn't intentionally burn it to perfection, I have been hoping against hope that she would perfect the burning process again. Alas, in that time the fudge has come out perfectly burnt only two or three times. Other times, I nod encouragingly and promise I am not too disappointed. You see, my burnt bliss lies in a narrow window between just normal fudge and so burnt Mom has to throw away the pan.
The last time she made it perfect it was unfortunately done exactly as it was in the old days - she simply forgot it was on the stove.
Anyway, in honor of this traumatic struggle we are in, my mom and I are naming our illustration company Burnt Fudge... if we capture the name in time... I'm sure it's a sought after branding.
I was going to wait to publish this as I have been pathetically active in the blog here today but realized that the previous blog's comment about my marriage should be explained as suprisingly enough, not everyone will understand that burnt fudge is actually wonderfully magnificent.
On my own...
Ahh, got it. This is my number one favorite all time Wesley/Abby picture which DC doesn't have on HIS blog, so I decided someone has to represent.
I think this is the last picture that Steve and I have taken together that I have liked. This is depressing. It has nothing to do with our actual selves - it just seems that Steve's paranoia/ genetic flaw of freezing up whenever someone other than me aims a camera in his direction is taken on along with his last name in marriage. Which, I'll point out hasn't been a piece of cake - the name I mean. The marriage has been on par with burnt fudge.... that will be my next post. An explanation of burnt fudge and its importance in my life.
A.T.T.I.T.u.D.E
Someone I know with the initials DC has Attitude... perhaps he also uses jazz hands when he dances to YMCA. WDC on the other hand, is an awesome dancer and SMC (formally SMF) has AC video to prove it.
Hey Mr. A.T.T.I.T.U.D.E - how do I put pictures in posts?
Hey Mr. A.T.T.I.T.U.D.E - how do I put pictures in posts?
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
All Dave C's fault
I just wanted to leave a comment on Wesley&Julia's Blog page and it made me sign up for blogger. And since I'm currently obsessed with Jenny Crusie & Bob Mayer's He wrote/She wrote dueling blog I might actually use this.
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