The Eternal Gaze

I am a fan of the strange and sometimes grotesque. In fact, it is the weird and sometimes morbidly offbeat that enchants me more than society's typical idea of beauty. It is different and refreshing to me. Here is a really interesting film short by Sam Chen on Alberto Giacometti- a man famous for his stretched-thin hollow-eyed figures. It is in two parts, if you make it through the first part, I think part two is the best of all. Love the ending, love the existential themes throughout, love the art work. Be patient, it takes a bit to download.

I still got it!!

Every once in awhile I think I like to feel that I am young and invincible. After all, I am only what.. 26? ok maybe 27. Add ten years onto that with a two year old.

Jay and I went on a date Friday night. I was looking forward to it all week, because we have both been so busy we have hardly seen each other in a month. Anyway-- date night. We have a hard time coming up with date ideas. There just isn't much to do in Salem besides dinner and a movie and that is boooooring! We tend to play our activities by ear. We cruised down to a local festival in town which was o.k. The music was great but so loud that it threatened to bring back my migraine so we left shortly thereafter. And had no idea what to do next. It was only 10:00 and we still wanted to play.

I jokingly suggested a moonlit walk on the beach, the beach being a good hours drive away. I say jokingly but really it was a gorgeous night and I haven't been to the beach since summer. Jay thought it sounded fun and a good way to ensure I stayed up all night so off we went.

Sometimes nothing is more fun than just taking a long drive with your honey, without the added benefit of a demanding toddler in the backseat. The drive up was quite lovely. Then we raided the Lincoln City Safeway for cash and chocolate and hit the beach.

It was cold but absolutely beautiful. The color of the water blended into the night sky, except for the white crests of the waves that broke onto the shore. There were hardly any city lights and few people on the beach at midnight. We beach combed in the dark with only a small flashlight to find shells. Obviously, we didn't have much success.

Then, in a complete atmospheric reversal we ran into the local casino to try our luck with the slot machines. We lost. But that is ok, because we only gambled ten bucks. It was about 1:00 when we started back. We stopped along the way to look at the stars.

I didn't go to bed until about 2:30 am. Which would be fine, except I work at 5 am on saturdays. So I had to wake up at 4 am. I was quite impressed that I managed 13 hours of hard physical labor on less than two hours of sleep. Energy drinks are quite helpful in situations like these.

I am now just waking up from a good sixteen hour marathon sleep. It was a really fun weekend, and occasionally, maybe once a year, it is fun to know I can still pull off an all nighter. It makes me feel young and alive. Or maybe young and foolish. Take your pick.

Alternate State of Mind

I don't have much to say, but I will say something anyway, because somebody around here has to blog, right? Am I right? First off, after my last post, I am pretty sure I will never receive presents from anybody again. Well I love you guys anyway.

I seem to be a work-aholic. I spent the last month being so panicked about losing hours of work that I found an extra Saturday job at the farmer's market. Then my weekday hours suddenly picked up again, and now I am working almost all day six days a week. Yet somehow in all this work, I am finding time to read. A lot. I have read something like three books this week, which when I was a teenager was nothing, but now that I have 'sponsibilities, is quite impressive to me.
This large amount of fiction I am consuming means that I seem to be walking around in a literary daze. Not sure if it is just stress, or the fact that my nose has been in a book almost constantly lately, but I am not mentally all there. I find myself missing turnoffs as I drive, and contemplating the mysteries of the cosmos whilst at work. My cynical side is also taking over. Sometimes reading depressing novels can do that to me.

I don't know how many times Jay has asked me if I am mad at him. No, Jay, I am not mad at you, just spacey and stressed out. I think we both need a vacation.

Five more weeks of school to go!

Is it the thought that counts??

Referring back to an earlier post about reusing, recycling, and not buying things much anymore, I am thinking about presents lately. This is because
A. Mother's Day is coming up
B. Then Father's Day is coming up
C. But before that my anniversary is coming up
D. I already forgot or put off doing anything for my parents birthdays earlier this year.

I think the idea of just going out and buying something for somebody is definitely off-putting for me. Can I use that word? Is that even a word? I don't like stuff and I don't like feeling that by giving stuff to other people, I am obligating them to keep more stuff. Besides my parents are in the midst of moving so I really don't think they need much right now anyway.

On the other hand, I feel like a heel if I don't do anything. I mean, I love my parents. I want them to feel special on holidays and birthdays, and unfortunately I don't live close enough to make them a delicious meal or garden for them.

So I get in this dilemma every gift-giving time of not wanting to give an impersonal card or gift, and intending to make something cute and small or edible. Then of course I put it off and don't do it, and inevitably I don't do anything except call and apologize for being a forgetful jerk. This is also what happened during Christmas.

And let's not forget the fact that men are impossibly hard to shop for or give gifts to.

Yes, I know I make things way more complicated than they have to be.

Get Smart, Feed the World

Apparently I am always the last to know about cool websites- but for those of you who don't know about this one - FreeRice- you can play trivia with a number of topics from art to vocabulary and for each question you get right, you have donated 10 grains of rice to the UN Food Program.

Hey its fun. Try it.

The Mysteries of Language

I recently moved up in the world of transcribing, to college courses. Currently, I am sitting in on the most fascinating linguistics course and learning all sorts of things about verbs that I have tried to repress since eighth grade. But perhaps most importantly, I have learned from a college professor that using the word ‘can’ in a question of permission is completely permissible and should not be subject to the snarky reply of “I don’t know, can you?” So there.

Now I know that I CAN ask if I CAN go to the bathroom, and I CAN use the word CAN as a perfectly acceptable substitute for the word may, because a Doctor of Linguistics says I CAN. If anybody gives you grief over the usage you can give them the technical explanation. “The deontic usage of the word ‘can’ denotes a loose social obligation , in that I am asking, not if I am capable of going to the bathroom, but if I am allowed.” Then you can smugly leave to go to the lavatory, while they are looking up the meaning of the word ‘deontic.’

I find language simply fascinating. Was that the reason that I studied so many languages in high school, or was studying Latin, German, ASL, and Spanish what made me love languages? I don’t know which is cause and which is effect, but the end result is I love to watch and discuss how languages evolve. Chalk up another mark to my rampant nerdiness.

In other language fronts, isn’t it so fascinating when kids go beyond the parroting phase of language into creating their own string of sentences? James is finally getting to that point. Sure he has been chattering and talking for quite some time but mostly in one or two word phrases and the occasional sentences that he hears the adults repeat to him over and over.

I have noticed that in the past month or so, he has gone beyond that to forming his own conclusions about words and what they mean. He makes the most interesting leaps of logic and expresses those ideas to me in very cute and fascinating ways.

For example- he loves pepperoni, but when we bought baloney, he associated the similar sound of the words with pepperoni. Then we moved onto to lunch meat which looked similar to baloney. The end result is he now calls all lunch meat “pepper-blowni.” You have to spit when you say the Ps and Bs too, to get the right effect. And ok, it was so cute, we all call it pepperblowni now.

He also asks me to “open” his strawberries. This means taking the leafy stem part off. I can only figure that “opening” food to him means making it edible and accessible to him.

This morning, as I was insisting on putting his shoes and socks before we went to the sitters, and he was fighting tooth and nail against it, he announced “I want my feet back on!” I am not sure if he properly appreciated why I was laughing at him.

Are You Ready for More Art??

I swear this isn't an ugly one. In fact I quite like it- it makes me smile. There is a lot of symbolism and imagery in it that I won't go into, suffice it to say it is about consumerism in the 1950s. The guy on the billboard outside is Al Jolson, whom I now love simply because Jay does the most hilarious interpretation of him.

The naked guy with the BLOW POP is Charles Atlas, a famous body builder, and I am not sure who the nude with the lamp shade on the couch is. I just love their poses and the detail. I would totally hang this in my bathroom, if only for Charles Atlas.

Just What Is It That Makes Today's Homes So Different, So Appealing?
By Richard Hamilton

Profound Profundity

Here is a thought to ponder- Did you ever stop to think about the way the earth recycles carbon? For example: A carbon atom in your fingernail could be the very same carbon atom that once lived inside the tooth of a tyrannosaurus rex. Whoa.

My latest hobby or goal in life is to be a reuser. Maybe I will come up with a better term than that eventually, but right now I am too busy remaking and reusing things. I love it when the things I am into come into fashion as well. Second hand and thrift is chic right now and my creativity is working overtime making new and fun things from items I have had lying around the house.

Last week I took a turtleneck that was too large ( turtlenecks are way too choky for me as well), cut off the sleeves and neck, added lace to the sleeves and hem and now I have a very cute, fashionable t-shirt to wear to work. Next on my list is to make James some shorts now that the weather has changed for the warmer.

In the course of my wanting new clothes for free, I discovered something about myself- I can't follow a sewing pattern to save my life, but I am pretty good at altering and changing clothes free-hand into something else.

I have decided I am through buying things new. Except for food of course. My new motto is "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without." (An old depression saying) I am not sure where thrift store shopping comes into that, but I got four adorable summery wear-to-work shirts today for 8 dollars total.

Money is an issue with us, but my desire to buy used and reuse as much as possible goes deeper than that. I just think that we as a society, myself included, are just too much into consumerism. It is wasteful and harmful to our environment. Ok, enough said about that- I won't get too preachy. Of course I realize that if everyone consumed much much less there would be far less for me to buy second hand....

Anyway, I am having a blast on my sewing machine (I never thought I would say that).

Of course it doesn't hurt that Jay tells me I am incredibly sexy when I am cheap and thrifty. What can I say? Flattery is free and I like it.

Just Another Manic Monday

Ok, really, I don't think I should be allowed out in public on Mondays. Or at least not without my own personal escort. I seem to be a walking disaster most days, but more so on Monday. And the Monday after spring break... well.. wow. I got an extra last minute job today which I was thrilled about. The only problem was it was forty minutes away, started in an hour, and I accidentally left the seat warmer on in the car- hence- dead battery.

My life today felt like that book (children's books freqently come to my head at times like this) Fortunately. Fortunately, I got an extra job. Unfortunately, I killed my battery. Fortunately there just happened to be a qwest truck at the remote park I was visiting and fortunately I have jumper cables.

Unfortunately, I cannot tell my left from from my right and took the wrong exit. Unfortunately that required a major turn around in the middle of the Willamette River - yes, you heard it right. Just imagine a large spaghetti bowl type freeway system all hovering over a very wide river. Yikes.

Fortunately I thought I knew where I was going. Fortunately, I thought right. Unfortunately there was no parking to be had at the college. Zilch. Nada. Not even for ready money. Unfortunately, I was ten minutes late at this point.

Fortunately, I found what I really hoped was a free permit-free, non towing spot on the curb. Fortunately I happen to rock at parallel parking. I think I parked that car on sheer will and desperation, because damn it was a tight spot.

Unfortunately I had to lug twenty pounds of computer equipment over a block, uphill. Everything turned out all right in the end and class even let out early- Hooray!! (I still get paid the full two hours.) But wow, I am totally frazzled.

Here is how I would like my evening to go: Perhaps, fortunately James will not have any potty accidents. Perhaps he will not lose my phone and my keys while I blog instead of watch him. Perhaps he will even heat up his own dinner and put himself to bed in a few hours.

Perhaps I should go make dinner.

James and His New Friend

James made a new friend yesterday. Unfortunately, his new friend wound up in the garbage twenty minutes later. That is because James' friend was a hard-boiled egg. I gave it to him in hopes he would eat it. James insists on peeling his own eggs- no easy feat for a two year old, and as a result usually winds up yanking the top off, leaving the bottom shell on, and trying to eat it out of its shell. (yeah, well, you try peeling it for him- it is not worth the fight, I promise you).

About five minutes into this process, he found his empty egg carton, and Ta Da! an idea was born. I turned around to watch James playing peek-a-boo with his half peeled egg in the carton. Then he started up a lively conversation with it, only half of which I understood. But I am sure Humpty-Dumpty understood it.

Then the egg became his baby. Then they played house together with a christmas tin, and drove in James' laundry basket. I don't actually let James run rampant around the house with food like this- well, ok, maybe I do- but I was distracted at first and then completely amused with his imagination.

Finally, I think they had a falling out because I walked out of the kitchen just in time to see James smash his egg flat on the table. Egg went into the garbage at that point, much to James' dismay. And thus ended a beautiful friendship, at least until I forget about this incident and give James another egg...

Three Words I Hate

Have you heard about Obama's Special Olympics gaffe on the Tonight Show? Where he referred to his bowling skills as worthy of special olympics? Wow, surely not his finest moment. I read this article on CNN entitled Special Olympics takes on use of 'R' word, and I think they make an excellent point.

It reminded me of the two words that are commonly misused as slurs but that we all use anyway- myself included. And I really hate when I use them, but just can't seem to help myself. Here is a sampling "how gay is that?" and "wow, I am a retard" I really really don't think that the word 'gay' should be used to refer to something as stupid or dumb, but again, I can't seem to help myself. If I catch it before I say it, I hold back, but I am not very good at checking what I say. If I was, James probably wouldn't be running around now yelling "oh dammit!"

Isn't it funny how words such as gay and retarded started out as something completely innocuous, then took to meaning something else completely, and now are commonly used as slang? I find language simply fascinating.

Of course, I also hate the phrase "quit being so girly" or "you are acting like a girl" which is perhaps why I find myself saying in contemptible tones "typical male." Do we ever think about what we say and how offensive it can sometimes sound? Without intending to, everytime we use the word gay, retarded, or girly, contemptibly, we are in a small way tearing down a faction of society.

Now, I do find that as a society we are also very quick to take offense where none is intended- I certainly don't get after people every time I hear them making derogatory comments such as those. But at the same time, I think we should consider what we mean when we commonly drop "girly" as an insult. (okay, yes, that is the one i hate the most, and I NEVER use it.)

Dance Party Saturday

Jay attempted to teach me to swing dance this weekend. Lessons are going...ok. I have no rhythm in my feet. Don't ask me why. I can play piano like nobody's business. I can keep time with music, but ask me to stomp my feet in a rhythm or clap my hands and I am always off a beat. Oh, and for years and years, I hated dancing. Probably because I felt stupid because I knew I looked terribly awkward.

At any rate, when I am in the privacy of my own home with my other half it is not so bad. Which isn't to say I still felt totally at ease, but...

Swing dancing is fun!! Jay has bravely decided to continue to let me stomp on his toes, and maybe someday I will actually turn it into coordinated dancing. I just think it is too cool that my husband knows and enjoys dancing.

Also if you have read some past posts about trying to teach me anything, you know how hard it can be...

On Saturday he taught me the basic four step, the barrel turn and the sweetheart's pose. And I still remember what they are called! Yea!! Of course while this was all going on, James was insinuating himself between us and saying "Dance? Dance?" He couldn't believe we weren't including him. So naturally I had to have a dance with him, which is composed mainly of him getting twirled through the air.

We had a lot of fun, dancing to Louie Prima. Maybe sometime when I am actually half decent at it, I will video tape us.

Louis Prima "Oh Marie"

I think I will have to take a lesson from my sister on posting videos here, because I couldn't figure it out.

The Ugly Duchess

Ok, I am having waaay too much fun transcribing for an art history class. It is just so fascinating!! So I have decided to include a little art history moment in my blog to edumacate the masses (or the two or three people who read this). Today is…..

The Ugly Duchess

Try to imagine the effect this has in a darkened room, on an enlarged projector screen. Wow. I was horrified, and yet fascinated at the same time. I didn’t want to continue staring, but I couldn’t stop.

No one is sure who this is, but rumor has it, she was the inspiration for the duchess drawings in Alice In Wonderland.



Researchers have now determined she was suffering from a very rare form of Paget’s disease, a disease which gradually enlarges and shrinks bones, deforming them. Usually it affects people’s hips and lower body, but this woman is unusual in that it affected her face instead.

This picture is mostly thought to be a commentary on the efforts of older people to look young and youthful, taken to the ridiculous. Notice the low cut dress, displaying a rather wrinkly bosom. She is holding a rosebud, which is a symbol of youthfulness.

In the end, I find myself extremely curious about who she is. Did she go out in public? How did she feel about the hand fate had dealt her with this disease? Quite probably this didn’t develop until she was older. If I were going solely off of the artist’s interpretation, I would say she was quite intelligent and made the most of her life. I could almost imagine her making jokes about this painting.

In the end, I love this painting, but… I wouldn’t necessarily hang it in my house.

If anybody wants me I will be in my cocoon

What a week!! James has been on and off sick- leaving me pondering every morning "should I or shouldn't I take him to daycare?" We had quite a bit of foul weather and snow on Thursday morning, which incredibly hampered everybody's way to school, winding up with me and half the students being late. But I had fun counting all the cars in ditches along the way ;)

But the two events that really took the cake was first when I wound up involved in a four car accident Wednesday afternoon. Physically, I was okay, and my car only got a couple scratches on its bumper. Emotionally, it really took a toll on me as two cars in the accident and people in the cars were somewhat damaged and had to be taken to the hospital. (Just the people, not the cars, they were towed.) As I was for a time the only adult on the scene in the midst of horribly hysterical teenagers, I was temporarily in charge. Yuck.

I didn't think it had taken quite the toll on me it had, until that night and the remainder of the week I kept having panic and anxiety attacks and acting really really strange. Loud noises would make me dizzy, and I mostly just wanted to be left entirely alone. Sometimes I wonder how Jay puts up with my rampant psychoticness....

But the piece de la resistance was Thursday evening. Or rather Friday morning. Take your pick. I woke up at 2:45 am to the sound of what I thought was gunshots, (later learned it was an explosion) and a megaphone saying "THIS IS THE POLICE, COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!" Yikes!! I spent the next few moments wondering if I was awake or still dreaming. Then the megaphone came on again, and I decided, yep, this was definitely for real.

Jay was nowhere to be seen which of course added to my confusion and wondering just what the hell was going on. A few minutes later he came inside the house and informed me that the police and the S.W.A.T. team were in our complex trying to coax a man holed up in his town-home to come out. This had apparently been going on since about 10:00 pm that evening, when the young man apparently had a bad reaction to some medication?? and commenced firing shots into his neighbors home- a single mom and her two young children in bed. Fortunately no one was injured.

I was of course oblivious to most of it, having fallen dead asleep at nine. But explosions do tend to wake me up. Getting woken up in the middle of the night by the police on a megaphone is a new one for me. But as long as they are not coming after me, well, I guess it's fine.

Anyway, I would totally appreciate a nice, quiet, boring week, with no S.W.A.T. team, no traffic accidents, no horrible snow traffice, and no sick children. The sick child thing may be too much to ask for as I think James is coming down with his annual croup, but as long as no police are involved at 2 am, I think I can deal with that.

On following up with my resolutions

Sometimes I actually follow up on my more altruistic resolutions. Remember how I wanted to volunteer? Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later, but I got sucked into the humane society where Jay works. I decided that since I had two hours between classes at work, it might be fun to walk dogs.

I should perhaps explain here that I like dogs, but only when they don't belong to me. I have doggy-sat for other people before and walked other people's dogs as well and it was always enjoyable. But I don't really like how noisy they can be, I hate what they do to my yard, and really don't like doggy smell. So mostly I just like dogs I can play with for awhile and then give back. Of course I also claimed to like other people's kids because I could give them back when I was done, and now look at me...

So far, I have been to an orientation, an interview, another two hour training, and have yet another one to attend this Saturday. Sheesh, being altruistic is hard work. Today I had to spend an hour working on the steps I learned at the previous training. These steps consist of feeding dogs treats and practicing leashing them.

I just wanna walk some dogs already!!

No Room For A Sneeze

This blog title may sound somewhat familiar to some of you. It is the title of a book my sibs and I grew up with. Here is a brief synopsis:

A farmer and his wife have so many kids there is no room in their house. So they go ask the wiseman what to do. He tells them to bring the chickens into the house. They do that, then go back and complain again. This time he tells them to bring in the goat, then the horse, cow, pig, etc. Eventually when their house is completely overrun with chaos, the wiseman tells them to remove all the animals. Once this is done, they realize how peaceful and adequate their house really is in comparison with what it might be.

What does this have to do with me? You see, I spent the better part of this week looking at different apartments to rent- not because ours was too small, but because we are not entirely sure we can continue to afford living here, whilst paying the heating bill and managing to eat all in the same month.

*Word of Warning- Never live in a place with huge vaulted ceilings unless you are prepared to pay triple what you normally would in heating*

We went out looking at apartments on Saturday to start us off. The first complex we were pretty sure the manager was on meth-amphetamines. The second complex would have taken two months worth of salary just to cover the deposit, and I refuse to declaw our cats. By the time we came home from that, our home was looking pretty good.

I went out again on Wednesday between jobs. This time, I looked at at least four different places. I think I lost count after awhile. Some were fine, some were scary, and some were just totally impractical. Nothing we looked at had adequate storage for all our extra baby furniture, camping supplies, and all other excess baggage we are not ready to part with.

I think I really like our garage.

Also, none of the apartments had more than a few feet of counter space in the kitchen. I really just don't see how I could put my grandma's mammoth fruit dehydrator on the counter, or make assembly line enchiladas, or even cook anything besides a box of macaroni and cheese in the kitchens we saw.

Suddenly my tiny kitchen is looking quite spacious and lovely.

After looking at the last apartment for the day, the book No Room For A Sneeze just inevitably popped into my mind. I realized that perhaps moving into a smaller cheaper apartment may not be the best solution and perhaps where we are is really the best place for us right now. Although it would be nice to save 300 dollars a month on rent and heat (and actually have a warm house for once) it would take an extraordinary amount of resources to move again, even if it was just down the road. (six hundred dollars just for a cat deposit??? Come on, cats aren't that bad.)

Here is why I love my townhome:
1. I have a yard which is totally my own space and I can grow anything I want in it.
2. An excellent neighbor with whom I swap child horror stories and dinners.
3. A garage for all our STUFF.
4. A forest behind us to shield all the weirdos who live in the apartment complex behind us. (Someone pitched a tent and camped out there all summer, who does that?)
5. An extraordinarily cat-friendly environment- we had no extra cat deposit here, and all the cats are so nice they even share their fleas with us.

So, basically, I think we decided that if we really want to save our pennies, we should stay put and not pay well over 1500 dollars in deposits, not have to buy extra storage, and not have to pay reconnection fees for the cable.

I am glad it took several hours of apartment hunting and a childhood book to show me that.

Take Me The Way I Am

This first blurb is totally unrelated but.... Hooray! Hooray!! James has finally used the toilet and today he even pooped in the potty for the first time!! I won't go into great detail, but I have never been so excited about seeing excrement in my life;)

Ok, onto the next matter of business. This is a belated Valentine to Jay, sorry it is a little late, but I just discovered this song and it struck a chord with me. I discovered Ingrid Michaelson on Pandora Radio, (I may be just a bit partial to her because of her name) and there are two songs of hers I really like. I have posted them here to give you a sampling. And I dedicate the song "Way I Am" to Jay who really does take me just the way I am.

"The Way I Am"

"Breakable"

Who Does This Sound Like?

We are attempting to potty-train James now. Or rather, my babysitter claims she succeeded in potty-training James, but I have yet to see him go in the toilet at home even once. Sometimes I think she makes this stuff up..

But I love her anyway.

A couple of days ago James and I were fighting over underwear. I wanted him to wear them instead of a diaper and he quite vocally refused. I insisted, and, sort of, won. Five minutes later I took him potty where he completely refused to take off the same underwear he didn't want to wear in the first place!!! I realize I shouldn't look for logic in a two-year-old. He is just trying to assert his independence.

Every day James grows more and more like his mother. Be afraid folks, be very afraid. He can and does scream for an hour. He doesn't like anything if it is not his idea. And most of all, he doesn't like other people to show him how to do something.

This reminds me greatly of the times my dad tried to coach me in softball.

Dad: Throw the ball like this, Inger-Lis.

Me: I know! I am throwing it like that!! Besides I want to do it my way!!

Dad: Make sure you swing your bat in a straight line.

Me: I know! I am swinging in a straight line, just like I threw the ball perfectly. I can't help if you can't catch it.


Or we could fast forward to last year when Jay taught me how to ride the scooter...

Jay: You have to go faster to get the scooter to stay straight.

Me: I know! But then I will fall off.

Jay: You won't fall off if you speed up.

Me: I know! Just let me do it.

Jay: You need to press down with your leg to turn it.

Me: I know! But I would rather stop, get off, and just walk the scooter around the corner, ok??


I think you get the idea...

I tried to teach James how to pedal his tricycle this week. His feet are finally long enough to reach the pedals and he is coordinated enough. He could really move on that thing if he could use the pedals. So I put his feet on them and showed him how to pedal.

He looked at me as if to say "I know, Mom!" Although he caught right on to the idea, he then returned to using his feet on the ground to propel him forward.

Mom and Dad, I give you permission to laugh your heads off at me.

Don't You Wish You Were My Neighbor?

Pardon my ego for a moment, but I just have to flaunt my cookie making talents.



I made these, and I think they are oh so pretty. Yesterday I was looking for ideas for a valentine themed dessert because we were invited over to a Sunday dinner, and I just HAD to make something cute and special. Somewhere along the way I discovered ganache. Ganache is chocolate pieces melted into heavy whipping cream and can be used for frosting, truffling filling, or eclair type stuff, and DAMN is it good!

Whipping up the sugar cookies was the easy part. Ganache is pretty quick to make, but kind of temperamental- I made white chocolate ganache which was a little runny, and dark dark chocolate ganache which was too thick to spread. In the end I just combined the two and made a very yummy milk chocolate ganache.

I think my mistake with the chocolate was that I followed the note that said "a good way to find out if your chocolate will make good ganache, is to determine if it is good to eat out of hand." I would probably eat pure cocoa beans out of hand, if you gave them to me. I picked 60% cocao chocolate chips which turned out to be heavenly for me, but way too rich for anyone else.

If I could just bake all day, and have someone else do all my dishes, I would be in heaven. I am trying to convince Jay to open a bakery with me. I could all the baking, he could do the business end, and James could wash all the dishes and sweep the floors. Nothing better than cheap child labor!