Because I'm A Ninja Baker...

...Carmen bought me the best little happy for Christmas.  Check it out right here. Is it because I'm stealthy in the kitchen?  That I can bake cookies before they know what hit them? Because I look good in black? Maybe because I'm just a kid at heart and think baking should be fun - that would explain the flip-flop and longhorn cookie cutters that I own.

However, I suspect that she has ulterior motives. She has a boy. And Little Monkey doesn't want no stinkin' flowers or hearts for birthday parties. He wants ninjas in all stages of attack. He does like to throw his food...good thing she didn't get me any Chinese throwing stars or we'd all be in trouble.

Unrelated Posts Part II

Today I experienced on of the most girly pursuits on the planet.  I had a facial. I was apprehensive about such an adventure. The apprehension wasn't due to the girly factor. It has way more to do with the idea of microderm abrasion and what my face may do in retaliation.

2 Things To Know Prior to Getting a Facial
1.) Extractions on your nose may lead you to believe that the technician is attempting to pierce it as part of an underground nose piercing group of punks. Seriously considered bodily harm at that point.
2.) When receiving a facial, it is likely that the technician will run her amply lotioned hands into your hair multiple times.  Into your hair multiple times. I braced myself prior to looking into the mirror once the facial was finished.

I had been transformed into a homeless woman with a glowing face who had been through a tornado.

Jen Lancaster, will I never learn from your life experiences?

Unrelated Posts Part I

The baking urge has taken over recently.  Oh wait, it never left since it showed up while I was in high school.

Last weekend it was Sweet Reagan's 2nd birthday. The cookies were simple, except for the royal icing that went awry. Because I wasn't making a full batch of cookies, I tried to halve the recipe.  I don't know exactly what went wrong, but the icing never finished setting up. It was still kinda sticky two days later. Luckily Sweet Reagan's mama is a fantastic photographer, and in her pictures you can't even see the splotchy bits.

Forgive the shaky out of focusness....I need a camera way better than the one I have.




Then this week is Christmas cookies. The Mother of Us All came through and I am now the proud owner of Christmas cookie cutters, including a horse, a cat and an entire bridge set.  I don't know about y'all, but we sit around eating animal shaped cookies and playing poker on Christmas Eve.

Luckily, this batch of icing set up and did what it was supposed to.

Love the way icing can change a naked cookie

I think they're sweet

Those stars are actually shimmery thanks to some luster dust.

Lost and Found

Otherwise known as my new purse.  Today while searching for the receipt for my parents Christmas gift I happened upon an unopened and forgotten bottle of AmeriColor Leaf Green gel food coloring. Who forgets about food coloring in her purse?  Apparently me.

A Ragbag Hodgepodge Jumble of Things

So there is no theme to this post, beyond there is no theme. Surely the title gave that away, right?

I plan on sitting on my couch sniffling bittersweetly into my coffee on Christmas morning.  Why? Because this will be the first time in my life that I will not be spending the holiday at my parents house. It's all part of the growing up, and I have plenty of good friends to visit this year within a couple miles. But it will still be a little heart achingly lonely at first. I really wanted a tree this year, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to strap one to the top of my car, haul it home, unlatch it, drag it up the stairs, find a tree stand, water it and vacuum needles all for the feel of Christmas. Having seen the prices for fake trees, there was no way I could afford a plastic tree. Enter PT Girl and a yen for all things Christmas.  She found a sweet tree and decorated it.

Kitchen cabinets are swathed in twinkle lights. A door wreath was used as a blank canvas.

Extra ornaments adorn the patio railing via superfluous ribbon. In short, it looks like Christmas (tastefully) exploded in our apartment and I.Love.It. Every last thing about it. It even smells Christmasy in here!

This really helps me get into the spirit, since it's still quite warm here in the Deep South.

Speaking of it being warm still...the birds have not migrated on yet. I'm sure they think that they're as far South as needed considering the mid to upper 60's temps we've been coasting on. I don't want to be the first to tell them that winter will set in and they will have to keep winging it toward the Equator. Until they do though, I will enjoy watching them every morning and evening to and from work.  They have a quiet beauty and a little pomp that accompanies them.  One of my favorite parts of the morning is sitting at a red light observing the blackbird -well, they're black and definitely birds - sentinels patrolling the intersection.  You can see them strutting back and forth atop the lights and bar, like they're keeping watch. Occasionally there is a coup and the colonel is usurped by a private who is a bit of a renegade.  Or maybe it's a democracy and no one is in charge? In the evening it's a completely different picture. There is a wide expanse of field that borders a highway and some frontage roads and here is where the grandeur takes place.  As migration season waxes and wanes, the number of birds does as well.  For the last month the sheer sum of birds has grown.  The field is more black than green. It undulates slightly until by some silent signal there is a wheeling motion and the sky is filled with a beauty that is hard to match.  There is a symmetry and understanding between the birds that is breath-taking.  I cannot conceive how they all know where they should be in space and in relation to each other. This is the actual place I am talking about! I guess you really can find anything on YouTube.

Lil B went and got himself engaged to Library Gal. This means wedding bells, toasts, pretty purple dresses (without big honkin' bows) and I Do's will ensue in a short number of months.  I'm looking forward to having a sister in law! Library Girl is a lovely, funny, beautiful, smart woman and she can bake like nobody's business.

I'm back in the dating game.  I'm keeping it all under wraps for now.  I've met some wonderful men and hopefully one may end up proving to be wonderfuler.  We'll see. The only hint I'll give you is that it is not the jerk gentleman who stated he was interested in finding a woman who was "hot". Anyway, I'm keeping myself in check through lots of prayer and accountability. I know now that I can become immersed in a relationship to an extent that is not ok - because I start to rank the man in my life as higher than my Father. That's a recipe for disaster if ever I saw one! Well, ok, I don't know that I've ever seen a recipe for disaster although I have baked my fair share (Necie, remember the hockey puck brownies?  Or when we made cut-out cookies and baked them before cutting them out?  Or melting a hole in your mom's tupperware? I still don't understand keeping that stuff in the oven!).

We're planning a cookie exchange at work.  I'm making sugar cookies - surprised?  That's all contingent upon The Mother of All of Us remembering to put the cookie cutters in the mail.  This will be the first Christmas that I've made sugar cookies on my own (see the first paragraph) and I own not a single blessed cookie cutter that is made for this season! I'm predicting a santa, a star, an angel, a reindeer and maybe a gingerbread man.  If memory serves me correctly, these are the cutters she has double of. I'm going to attempt to keep it simple for the exchange and do only one or two shapes.  I was planning on three shapes, but since we're planning on a half dozen of each cookie per person, that would mean only two of each shape. I believe I'll do one or two and really try and make them gorgeous. Like trees with bulbs! And luster dust! And some sort of edible lights...maybe yellow jimmies? See...the last thing I need to make are three different cookies. But please look at these cookies. I aspire to such ideas!

Tomorrow is another cat adoption day!  And to make it even more entertaining, there will be a photo op with Santa.  You can even rent a little costume for your pet! Check out Classy Cats for the deets.

Yankee Visitors

Bicycle Boy graced me with this presence over Vetern's Day weekend.  He flew through choppy skies to come to Cowtown.  The big plans for the weekend?  Lots of food with some culture and laughs thrown in.

We started off the weekend by attempting to eat at the best place to get chili...or so we're told. The screaming loud Eagles cover band and hour wait at 9pm on a Friday convinced us that chili wasn't that important.  Instead we headed across the historic street to a bar where we were the youngest patrons.  Yes, we were the youngest patrons.  Not sure what it says about us when we were also the first to leave.  Maybe that we're old? Nah, more like we both worked a really long day and it was late.

Saturday morning brought early risers and a fantastic breakfast at the Ol' South Pancake House. I had never experienced anything quite like a skillet full of biscuits and white gravy.

I am certain that one breakfast took years off my life. It might have been worth it.  Because we were up so early we missed the late morning college students, stumbling in bleary eyed and hung over hoping their team would win that afternoon. We did not miss the other world that exists prior to 10 am. Whole families are up and about!  Old couples who still walk hand in hand! Slightly clueless teenagers who look confused about why the sun is so low in the sky! It was nice to not have to wait for an hour for a table, in any case.

We decided to stroll off breakfast by walking around downtown.  As we passed the performance venue downtown, we were offered a free tour.  Perfect timing for a theater nerd and a music geek who didn't have anything planned! Bass Performance Hall is a stately building, to say the least, from the outside. Inside it has some beautiful touches while encompassing all of the staid hallmarks of performance halls.

My past history with all things theater related make me a bit of a critic, and most of my criticism is completely unfounded. I admit it. I know what I like and what I don't and I don't really care to defend myself on either count. There were some beautiful art deco touches that I appreciated and would like to see a show there at some point.

But it didn't remind me of the Benedum or Heinz Hall in any respect.  More along the lines of a high brow Pittsburgh Public Theater. It seats a mere 2000. It has none of the history, pomp, circumstance or lovely couches in the ladies loo that history has taught me is important.  It smacks of carpetbagging, in a way. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against new theaters - despite the impression I'm currently giving here. But I have a much greater appreciation for the huge behemoths that reside in Yankeeland's arts district.

 (Picture courtesy of http://www.pgharts.org)

Call me uneducated or stuck in the past, it's ok, I can handle it.

Bicycle Boy and I's food tour continued to The Flying Saucer where we indulged in pretzels and beer, an enjoyable afternoon chatting over good food. He was much impressed with the selection, both of the beers and the locals.  We had planned on Joe T's for dinner, which is pretty much a given if you come visit. But by the time evening rolled around we were both still full from lunch and would not have been able to appreciate Joe T's the way it deserves.  Some Wii playing and catching up and then it was time to dream of Joe T's.

Joe T's is a landmark.  If I knew how to do fancy things like link to a previous post, I could take you right there when Little Sis and I went.  Unfortunately, I have no idea how to do that. Take my Yankee word for it, it's pretty fantastic. Maybe I'll take a bunch back when I go home in June?  How's that for wedding food, Lil B? We hit it up right as they opened for brunch which translates to no wait instead of the very long line that is present an hour to two later. The food didn't disappoint, and Biker Boy was in heaven. I finally had migas and they made me want to be Mexican.

It was a great weekend, full of food and food.

I Don't "Black Friday"...

...because it makes me break into a cold sweat to think of that many really focused people in one place.
And I'd rather save myself the panic attack than save the money.  Plus, most of my Christmas shopping this year is etsy related or not anything that would be a great bargain any one day versus another.

This Thanksgiving was my second away from home. On the flip side, it was the second Thanksgiving with friends! This time there was no 9 hour drive, just good homemade food and a 30 second walk. This year also marked the first time I had a piece of pecan pie that made me wonder what I've been missing all these years!  It was divine and surprising, since I thought it was chocolate chess pie, and far surpassed any pecan pie I have ever tried.  Maybe it's being in the Deep South that is the difference.

I even went into Wal-Mart and bought Christmas cards today. Thought I'd make the most of the break from work. On the negative side of things, I backed into a tree today. Still finding those blind spots 19 months later.

Childhood Swirls and Cinnamon Whorls

Dear Spunky Showkids,

I'd like to provide a little glimpse into my childhood. Whilst growing up, the Mother of All of Us was a stay at home mom. She had three hooligans to keep track of...well, I was never a hooligan.  At least not until I was in high school, and even then it was more pseudo-hooligan. But MIB and Lil B kept her busy while I polished my halo and thought sweet thoughts. Yes, I was all over that world peace problem while they ran around shooting things with sticks. Mother of All of Us, I do remember a certain incident when Best Friend and I held a talcum powder parade, don't worry.

I was not a girly girl that was interested in sitting around looking pretty. I was more terrified of stepping foot outdoors and encountering either brother or any cousin.  They worked extremely hard to make me a tomboy.  It failed miserably, but they did give it the old college try. I was the only girl in the neighborhood, unless BP was visiting her grandparents, and all of the kids were cousins or brothers. I was so happy to have a red-headed Best Friend who lived one neighborhood over.

Best Friend and I met at age 3, according to local legend, when our brothers started kindergarten.  I have a hysterical picture of the two of us when we're probably four or five. My head is bigger than her entire body. Honestly, I look a little freakish. And I'm wearing my most favorite dress which is reminiscent of what Heidi would wear to help her Grandfather with the goats. But I digress. When I think of Best Friend what immediately comes to mind is salami sandwiches, cool ranch Doritos and ice cold pepsi on a porch swing.  Apparently we could have been a cross company add for all that was considered cool in the 80's. Underlying that obsession with food are secrets whispered at night, riding the lawnmower in circles over her lawn, selling bookmarks along a rural road (what were we thinking?), rhubarb dares, and an intimate knowledge of all things Disney. And underlying that is a connection that 28 years later is still there despite high school, moves, college, moves, weddings, moves and kids. We moved a lot!

Because the Mother of All of Us was home during the day, we would often troop in after school to the smell of fresh bread in the oven and soup on the stove. There are few things better in life than opening a front door following the walk home from school, feeling the snowflakes dissolve in your hair, the sting of blood in the cheeks, sensation returning to the tips of your fingers while being surrounded by the smells of home. 

I made homemade bread this past weekend for the first time by myself. I worried over the yeast and when I started to knead it, while it smelled like dough, it was so sticky I thought I'd ruined the whole batch.  But the funny thing about bread dough is that the more you knead it, the less sticky it is.  The logical explanation is probably scientific and revolves around gluten releasing or yeast expanding - Alton Brown, if you're reading this please explain. 

All I know is that I giggled like a little girl, so excited that it was working! A distinct feeling of "I've been here before. I've kneaded dough before. This smells right, this feels right." permeated the whole experience. Then I got to worry about the dough rising...until I tapped into the experienced generation that is The Grandmother and the Mother of All of Us. Tips for rising the dough faster were given, accepted, put into use and at the end of it, I had a beautiful loaf of cinnamon swirl bread.

Old school rising technique



And a little reminder of my childhood.

Seasons

I woke up this morning to temperatures in the 40s. Which makes me want to dance for joy and make fresh coffee and cinnamon rolls and break out all of the winter sweaters. When I moved here a year and a half ago, everyone assumed that I did not like having four distinct seasons. I'm still not sure what brought on this misconception. I love four seasons, I adore the change from gold dust leaves to icy snowflakes to tender irises. I endure the change from irises to scorching sun. Of all the seasons my least favorite is Summer.  Sacrilege to say here in the Deep South, I know. But I did say it and I'll probably say it again.

Fall here is short and bittersweet, much to my dismay. It came in this past week and I'm sure it will be gone in another few. Although, truth be told, Winter is so similar to Fall that I'm not sure I'll even notice. In Yankeeland, Winter is demarcated by the first snowfall that sticks, by more soup and hot bread at dinner, by the need for scarves and gloves in the mornings, school projects that revolve around snowflakes and snowmen. My first Winter in the Deep South snuck up on me and while I was thinking it was Fall everyone else realized it was Winter.  In defense of Winter, last year did see a record amount of snowfall in the Deep South...in February. And some bitter cold temperatures...in February.  

I should say that I do love that I can wear flip flops 8 months out of the year. That coats are optional between March and November.  That the sky is bluer than I think I've ever seen anywhere else. That I live where people want to come visit and see the sites. That it storms few times throughout the year. Sure, we have some severe weather a couple months out of the year, but it is far outweighed by the atmospheric riches most of the time.

Still, I am so over the moon that Fall is here, even if it's only for a short while.

A Spooky Halloween...Or Not

Yesterday was replete with little pirates, bumble bees, skunks, spiders and miniature William Wallaces. This all occurred within the home of my friends Kristi and Jeremy. Kristi went all out and the party was amazing!  There were fun activities for the kids, including a bounce house and pumpkin decorating. There was great food, both adult and kid-themed. Really, don't we all love a mummy dog? Above all else, there was tons of laughing and visiting.  Thanks K Dub!

Cookies, of course. I'm officially a fan of using royal icing.

My idea of a costume...I really needed one long cigarette to complete it, but just couldn't bring myself to buy an entire pack that I was never gonna smoke.

The best Lil Stinker ever!

His Crazy Mama blocking the stink....is it any wonder he's dramatic?

Here are the future Super Spies getting instructions from Home Base, all while incognito. The Pirate and Spider outfits were discarded in favor of service to their country.

The Baby Is Coming! The Baby Is Coming!

What do you get when you throw together one expectant mama, good friends, food to die for and cakes that are too cute? A baby shower fit for a little king!

Friends of mine (and others) are having a baby and we're all so excited we can't stand it!  Baby A will be here in just 8 short weeks - he won't know what to do with all the love and attention he's going to get. Luckily he has two very level headed parents who will not allow the rest of us to spoil him rotten.

She just might be the more level headed of the two...we'll see.

Now maybe it's where I came from or who I know or something cultural, but there is a huge difference between baby showers Down South and baby showers in Yankeeland...at least the ones I have attended.  There it is tons of food, usually held at a fire hall or community center, lots of crepe paper, fairly nice yet comfortable clothing, sheet cake and sherbet punch.  Here it is still tons of food, but different types of tons of food, usually at someone's house, so it's much more couches and easy chairs, dresses with heels or something equally trendy, couture cakes and champagne or punch with fruit in it (in apothecaries, none the less!).

The spread as we're setting up 

The decorations and diaper cake

Au Couture Cake


The differences end there.  At both places friendship, celebration, laughs, an outpouring of much needed onesies, bibs, baby monitors, bottles, and blankets, games and gifts and the satisfaction of loving a friend.

Now if you'll excuse me, there are bacon wrapped dates calling my name.

Who Likes Cats? I Do! I Do!

When I moved Down South from Yankeeland, I left my favorite man behind.  Sam, the only man to never leave me.  True, he's a cat. But also true, he's faithful as can be. 

He is a funny cat. Funny as in odd, not as in stand-up comedian. He adopted us the year that Pennsylvania got hit by a hurricane.  Sam came out of the woods a week or two before and quickly set up residence in the spare room of the garage.  Poor baby didn't even have a litter box when the rains hit that year....you could practically see him crossing his hind legs that day!  He would have washed away if he'd even attempted to leave the breezeway.  And ever since, he was mine. We made sure he was loved and fed and even gave him a nightlight. Yes, a nightlight.  In retrospect, you might say I was setting him up to be odd. But once Sam moved into the house we attempted to scar him in a variety of ways....all unintentional. He had been fearless while outside, treeing squirrels three times his side, running around like a crazy thing, not coming home when I called.  But once inside, he became a pansy.

The two times we attempted going back outside were disasters. 

The first involved an ill-timed wheelbarrow, a closed front door, Sam biting The Mother of All of Us, and a puffball of a cat fleeing into the woods. I sat on the back hill shaking a food bowl and crying.  He was still so little and he didn't have any claws! What would he do if he was threatened?  What would I do if he never came home? About half an hour after I gave up, he was back at the door with a touch of crazy about the eyes pleading to come back in.  He smelled and had something all over his fur, but he was back inside. He also eyed us warily for the next day. 

The second time was not long after that and The Mother of All of Us had bought a leash for him.  Yes, we now know this had disaster written all over it from the start. This time, we harness him up and go outside.  He becomes frantic immediately. As we had learned from our mistakes the last time, one of us was holding open the door to the house. We let Sam go as soon as he was back over the threshold. The idea in both our heads was that he would just calm down. Immediately. When, in fact, he continued to streak through the house and down the basement stairs, leash and harness chasing him. You could hear the path of destruction as he ran, bottles, brooms, boxes and bags all falling, tumbling and crashing (depending upon their contents) to the floor. It took forever to coax him out of the basement and even longer to remove the harness.

It was around this time that Sam developed two of his rather entertaining tics....not sure how, but I am convinced they are related to the harness incident.  He has a phobia of shoes that he does not know. Literally. If you wear a new pair of shoes and he does not recognize them, he will run from you until he hears you saying "Sam, Sam, it's me!  Look up here!" Once he looks at the familiar face he acts as though nothing is out of the ordinary.  He also has a deep-rooted distrust of plastic bags and wind pants. These can sound similar, so I guess there's a link there.

But for all his foibles, he is my favoritest thing in the world. He is a love monster - when I am home and able to see him, he will let me pet him for hours sometimes. He loves to have his belly rubbed...maybe he's part canine? He purrs and purrs and purrs while shedding an insane amount of fur.  I tell him I know no one else loves on him when I'm gone. He puts up with Zippy and Boo, both of whom attack him at the least opportune of times, he sits with a quiet look of resignation while Boo yowls in his ear, he can be counted upon to go and find Boo when he gets lost in the house (which happens often despite the fact he's been inside 12 years) and can make sure Zippy is behaving when asked too (she is usually not).

PT Girl has a dark and twisted past involving the feline species and a not named member of her family. So even if I could inflict the cruelty of transporting Sam across the country, away from his counterparts in terror (the aforementioned Boo and Zippy), into an apartment with all new sounds to be terrified of, PT Girl would have boarded the door over and Sam and I would have no option but to become nomads.  Again, not a great outcome considering the large number of unknown shoes we would come in contact with.

So I have recently started volunteering with a cat rescue group. If you know anyone who is looking for a cat or two (they have lots of sibling pairs), please check out http://www.classycats.org/  

The cats thank you in advance.

Cupcakes, Cupcakes, Cupcakes

While Little Sis here she expressed the desire to bake something with me.  Because I "make all sorts of unusual things" or something along those lines.  Cookies are my current specialty, but since that's a given for the Halloween party next weekend, we decided upon cupcakes with butter cream icing. Does this sound "unusual"? Not really. But I love these cupcakes, they're unusual because they area amazing but vegan, and neither of us had ever tried making butter cream. Before half of you say "Vegan cupcakes! Have you lost your mind?" you should totally make these and then tell me what you think. And I am a hard-core carnivore, so if I looove them, you will too. These little dark morsels of bliss are really moist and are good cold or room temp.

In progress...

At first blush, er, rather lilac. Ok, so the icing was a little grainy looking. After consideration, we've decided that I not only warmed the butter a little too much (Yes, I committed the sin of not softening the butter at room temp so I nuked it.  Heap judgment upon my pseudo-baking shoulders.) but I also didn't add enough powdered sugar. It's possible that I may have a new obsession....thoughts about sugar cookies with butter cream icing?

Our ghetto icing bag. I don't yet own an icing tip that is a 1B from Wilton. Just saying. Yes, that's just a coupler. Ghetto.

Little Sis about to reap the rewards of our labor. Not particularly hard labor, but labor all the same.

It Looks Worse Than It Is, Mom, I Promise

Let me just say, I love having visitors!  I enjoy the anticipation of someone coming to see me, of picking them up at the airport (especially DFW since you can sit curbside for about an hour before anyone checks to see if you plan on blowing up the joint. Try that at Pittsburgh, just try.) I love the weird disjointed conversation that people tend to have when they've just seen each other in a while, even when they're family. Then the whirlwind of spending time together, eating out, enjoying the otherwise normal view, watching really funny movies, and late nights. The return to the airport (we're Departing, D, not arriving!) is bittersweet.  Even more so when it takes three attempts to find the airport from two miles away...but I digress.

Little Sis came to see me and other family for the last week.  For those of you who are thinking "She has a little sister?", let me explain. Little Sis is 7 years younger, our moms are besties and we've known each other since she was born.  I have literally known her her entire life, including all things sugar bowl, doughnut and ice cream related. She spent the better part of last year as an Au Pair in Paris and has only recently come back to the States. We always have a good time, even when we're apart.  Skype was a huge lifesaver this past year.  Anyway, she came for a week and we got to play in Ft Worth.

One of the most amazing moments of the trip was when Little Sis was opening a bottle of bubbles. The cork was much flatter than a regular champagne cork so we decided to uncork it like a wine bottle. As Little Sis is slowly and carefully uncorking the bottle the top of the neck shears off and we're left with an open bottle but via an epic fail. It was a clean break, so we just shrugged and poured some stars.

One of the things that is a must when someone comes to visit is a trip out for a really great margarita. Now, moms, we did eat....a lot. I just didn't take any pictures of said sustenance, except for the great french toast. So please know we were safe and full of food!

Joe T's is the quintessential "see and be seen" spot in Ft. Worth.  It's easy to see why....

We attempted to go to a place called "The Usual" which is a prohibition style bar. They weren't open during the day - guess that's part of the reason it's a prohibition style place - so we traveled on down Magnolia to The Yucatan Taco Stand. Great drinks, pretty good food.

Little Sis is getting excited for The Flying Saucer! This is the CSI shot of the bunch.  Can you find the photographer?

A little Breckenridge Vanilla Porter rounded out the day. The Rangers were on and kicking some Yankee butt, the crowd was all riled up and we were relaxed.

And finally, a shot that could only warm an audiologist's heart.  We made Little Sis some earmold impressions so she can get fancy-pants earphones for her iPod.

Insights from The Hunger Games Trilogy

Ok, so I waxed poetic earlier in a post about my new found love for Suzanne Collins' series The Hunger Games Trilogy and have hinted at the ways it has made me rethink my surroundings and habits.  I will try and not give away particulars about the books but if you are loathe to know details prior to reading a novel, then you may want to skip this post altogether.

This sums it up: I am intensely aware of the freedoms I have every day due to the future setting of these books.

The more detailed explanations and thoughts:
Food: So one might think that with a name like The Hunger Games, the books are centered around some sort of competition for food.  And in one sense you would be completely right...and completely wrong. The setting of this series is in the future in North America. The United States no longer exists, instead there are only 13 Districts and a Capitol. Each district is responsible for a trade that keeps the Capitol running.  Our heroine is from what we know as Appalachia. In her world, hunger is an ever present concern - how to get enough to eat, how to get outside the Fence to hunt, to use whatever she has gathered and killed to barter for other supplies or payment, how to avoid having her mother and sister starve.  In order to accomplish all of these tasks, she has to break the law, because this future allows no individual thought. She can't just walk outside and sit in a deer stand with a rifle to take down a buck every now and again.  She has to provide daily by escaping the electric fence and then using a bow and arrows to hunt small game, to use what the woods gives up as a natural supermarket. Literally living from the land because the Capitol will not provide for it's people. I won't even get into what the Hunger Games actually are because that's a whole post on it's own. Suffice to say, Katniss has to use those skills within the Games in order to survive.

I have found myself being very aware of the abundance of food and the ease with which I can procure it since reading this series. The ability to go to a store and choose what I would like to eat, to not have to hunt or harvest my food, to decide when I would like to eat and to be secure that, at least for the foreseeable future, there will be no shortage of food. I have been conscious of what other people are eating, buying, choosing. I have come to one conclusion: I take it for granted that I have a vast amount of freedom to not have monetary or governmental restrictions on my capability to feed myself. I take it for granted that I never have to have an empty stomach unless I plan poorly or choose to go hungry. I have also come to a resolution: I will attempt to be more aware of the money and resources I spend on food as well as being more sentient about what I am eating and being appropriately thankful for the simple blessing of having enough to eat.

Frailty: Of our bodies and of our society. The whole deal with food was easiest to put into words. The concept of how we're frail and our freedoms (in the next paragraph) are much harder for me to pin down in words. I guess I'll start at the easiest most obvious point. Out human frailty is amazing when you stop to think about it. I work in a pediatric hospital setting, so perhaps I am more tuned in to this fragility than some people. It is no small miracle that we are all born developed as we are, that we are equipped for basic survival, with the ability to learn how to better survive. It is terrifying to think of the myriad of ways that endanger our survival every day.  I sit on my balcony and am in imminent danger from a badly shanked golf ball. Every time we get in a car and proceed from the parking spot we are moving targets. Our own bodies can betray us in a heartbeat, literally. When faced with an adversary, how long would I last? A minute, an hour? Could I out run or out maneuver? What if they were armed? I can't run fast but I can run long. I am crap at anything that requires any adept hand-eye coordination so hand to hand combat is out. I'm not a bad shot, but that'd be a complete gamble. What if we are not our own worst adversaries?

Despite the strangle hold that the Capitol keeps over the people, there is a fragility to the whole enterprise that one teenage girl is able to threaten with a handle of berries. This world is a carefully constructed house of cards or some other such construct. No District knows anything about the others except what the Capitol tells them. How hard can you squeeze people before they shatter? How fragile is our own government and the way it cradles us? Are we as secure or as perilous as we think? It is clear that some of us do not accept what is given to us through media or other sources through the dissent seen in our papers, online and spoken of person to person. However, hesitate a moment and consider how large a percentage of the population this is. I have no earthly idea myself whether the loudest of us are a good cross section of what we all really think. Do I close my eyes to situations around me or do I peer into the corners in search of what is not there? If we could be brought down with a handful of berries, would any of us have the will to fight for what we need or would we accept it and proceed with life as dictated?

Freedom: The books also deal with the idea of no democracy existing in any of the Districts or the Capitol. This future world is kept under strict reign by one man. Not sure whether he would be a dictator, a communist, a totalitarian, a tzar, or just a complete control freak. Whatever the inspiration is for this character, I sincerely hope that I never have the opportunity to be in a place where a man or woman of this design would dictate my quality of life. The freedoms I have as I sit here in my apartment are a wealth and, again, I take them for granted. I can attend church without fear of retribution and punishment, and then discuss the sermon afterward in public. My simple blog is something that I assume will still be here tomorrow. I can write pretty much whatever I want and there is no censorship to stop me. (Except for my mother, that is.) I have the freedom to say what I think, where and when I want. Sure there may be consequences, but those generally include a huge dose of foot in mouth for me. I have the common sense to not endanger my job. What if simply stating an opinion on the current government or policies would result in far harsher punishment?  Would I still speak my mind or would I become part of the cowed crowd?

Well, these are some of my overriding thoughts and stirrings that this particular series has brought to the front of my mind. The amount of thought the books have spawned makes me want to buy copies and give them to everyone I know and meet.  Collin's publisher would love that! 

A Little Recap

I just got home from being a fashion model.  Yes, that's right.  I had my world-wide modeling debut tonight.  Sadly, the paparazzi were not in attendance. Seriously though, my friend works for a salon that has a biannual event for area buyers (I think...or maybe they're stylists?) and you can have your hair cut and colored the week prior and then you model a look.  I was a last minute fill-in for a model, so I was strictly a fashion model. Friend of mine put me in a great dress and they made my hair all big and girly - I shudder to think of trying to wash it tomorrow morning.  My favorite piece of the whole ensemble?  A peacock headband.  Yep.... Peacock feathers in my hair, bubbly in my hand and helping out a friend.  Pretty good evening!

I just pulled a baking experiment out of the oven...no idea if it turned out until I eat one in a couple minutes.  I have had this insane craving for basil this week.  I bought a huge container of it and have been eating it on and in everything short of my cereal.  Tonight's semi-homemade recipe is crescent rolls with fresh mozzarella and basil rolled inside.  Sounds delectable, but I've been known to destroy tried and true recipes.

If you're a fan of bacon, you must read this post by The Polymath immediately! I now want to try and construct my own dining accoutrements from bacon.  Maybe this coming week while Little Sister is here...that way I don't have to eat a pound of bacon by myself.  Not because I can't, but because I'm looking into life insurance and I'm pretty sure that would null and void my policy.

Speaking of eating a pound of bacon, I'm starting a new eating lifestyle tomorrow.  In short, I will eat less.  I will be the first to admit that I love to eat and I love food and I love trying new foods and I love love love cooking and baking.  But with all that said, I am not at all a, shall we say...judicious, consumer.  I will eat the finest delicacies with the same enjoyment that I eat a corn dog from a convenience store (um...I have actually NEVER had a corn dog from a convenience store). You get my point. In the last week I've become much more aware of what I am putting into my body and the ease with which I do so. More on this in a forthcoming post.

The mozzarella basil rolls can stand some improvement.

Catching Up

Well, I promised a post...um....two weeks ago.  Right.  So what's been going on for the last two weeks?

Visited Sin City, MIB and Sweetie.  It was a really great uneventful trip that is summed up by the following words: Napping, reading, napping, reading, eating, reading, sleeping, a wee bit of gambling and reading. It was exactly what I needed.  MIB and I spent quality time together just hanging out, watching him play various video games, watching football and Top Gear and napping - clearly, not together.  We're not that kind of family.  Sweetie was busy between meetings and work, so we didn't get to hang out much this trip.  One night all three of us went to a great place called Battista's Hole in the Wall and had some killer Italian food and then went to the casinos. I promptly lost all the money I took to gamble with.  High roller I ain't. But I already knew that.

After I winged my way from Sin City to The South, it was right back into the world of ears and little people (you know, kids). That is until something wicked blew through the air and caused me to end up spending the weekend on the couch while bolstering Kleenex stock. Luckily PT Girl was out of town so she was spared the sniffling, blowing and all around miserableness that I was. 

So I was home and in Sin City in September which has ushered us into The Months of Visitors.  Little Sister comes to visit next week and then Biker Boy is going to come explore in November. Any takers for December?

In other news, I have been doing a huge amount of reading and have found a new infatuation: Suzanne Collins. I read the Hunger Games while I was in Sin City...devoured it actually.  And then tried to tell myself I could care less what happened to District 12 and all related.  That lasted about 5 days. I then broke down, bought the second and third books, Chasing Fire and Mockingjay. I then proceeded to read them back to back this past weekend when I was wallowing on the couch. Ok, so maybe that's fairly normal.  Get intrigued by an author and want to finish a series.  The infatuation part comes in here.  I'm re-reading them now. Partly because I read them so quickly the first time around that I'm sure I missed little golden nuggets of brilliance. And partly because they are a picture of where we may be headed as a nation. The things that we take for granted may be the most precious to us in retrospect and the idea of what we have that may not exist in the future except for the wealthy and privileged.

A sign that Collins has gotten under my skin? I also read The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and was wishing there was more Salander and way less Vangers. I was not completely enthralled with it like most everybody else. Will I read the last two?  Probably.  But not until after I finish The Hunger Games for the second time.

SEC Showdown

My dad's high school football jersey....either they made jerseys a lot smaller in the '70's, or he was really skinny.

Yesterday was a great day.  It started with a run, included my first visit to a cat rescue group where I'll be volunteering (cat hair is free and a mandatory parting gift!) and ended with hours of SEC football, friends, small fans, tons of laughs, "Stop that!" "No ma'am!", groans, cheers and an 8 ft tall blow-up Smokey...inside the foyer.

Little Monkey was so excited the girls were coming to play!

R taking a refueling break...C didn't hold still long enough for me to snap any shots of her.

C and I started planning this pigskin party a couple of months ago when we realized that LSU and Mississippi State played each other on a Saturday when we could all get together. Woot!  Bring on the chili, the adult beverages (including sweet tea!), small children running somewhat amok, football shaped cookies and some great games. We decided to make it an all day event starting with the Univ of Tennessee vs Univ of Florida game.  I could wax on poetic about how great the games were and how well everyone played, or didn't. Instead, I'll leave you with some pictures.

Face off!

Go Vols! My Tennessee orange ran a little into the white, unlike the Vols!

Go Gators! Too much sugar in the icing maybe?  Too thin? Either way, a little patchy. I could learn from the Gators defense.

LSU! These turned out the best, go figure since they were playing my Dawgs.

Goooooo Dawgs!  We need #24 back, although Bumphis is holding his own...and everyone else's.

It's off to Sin City for me at the end of this week to visit MIB and his Sweetie.  Can't wait to see how it's changed in the last year and a half! If I win big, expect a nicer blog layout in the future.