Tea and Cupcakes

Last Friday was Mother's Day Tea at Monkey Boy's preschool. Here he is having "tea". And here we are together, me sporting the Mother's Day bonnet that he made for me. Awww!

Wow, maybe I should have worn a little makeup last Friday! Who am I kidding? I'm gorgeous!

Chase and I had a lovely party with his classmates and their mommies. I have to say, we were a stylish bunch, all decked out in Texas-sized coffee filter bonnets! The mommies were all good sports and donned their chapeaus with grace and style. We even kept them from falling off and into the bowl of spinach dip...or "slime" as one little charmer put it. (Nope, not mine...all I got from him was a wrinkled nose and I big ole Ewwwwwww)

On Saturday, we were invited to a good old-fashioned low-country boil at a my hub's childhood friend's house to celebrate the passing of the bar. Yay! Congrats Rod!! Of course, this provides me with an ample audience and sounding board for baked goods! Cupcakes, to be specific, were on the brain! We'll get to my cupcake obsession some other time...that's a lengthy subject!!

I decided to bake Friday night, get my frostings prepped and then I could assemble and frost before we departed for the shin-dig on Saturday. Two flavors sprang to mind: Red Velvet (classic southern fave, especially for a southern-themed soiree) and my all-time favorite combo of lemon and raspberry. Specifically, lemon cake, filled with lemon curd and topped with fresh raspberry buttercream. I just gained another 4 pounds. Well worth it.

Here are just a couple pictures of my baking-in-progress. I might do further step-by-steps with recipes and great photos once I get myself wrapped around this whole blogging thing...need more time to channel my inner Pioneer Woman. Please forgive my 1975 formica countertops. Ktichen remodel is on the "To-do" list for sometime in the next decade.

Big globs of deliciousness, right? Right. The standard butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla, sour cream. Well, sour cream isn't really the standard for red velvet, but I thought I'd give it a whirl...didn't have time to swing out to the store for buttermilk.

I thought this photo would turn out really pretty with the vibrant splash of red. I got more "crime scene" than I had hoped for. Also, if you see my husband, will you please remind him that a Kitchen Aid 5-qt mixer doesn't really take up all that much room, and even if it did, the benefits greatly outweigh the loss of counter space.

Please??

He doesn't believe me, and my buttercream is suffering needlessly. Thanks.

Here are the lovely Red(?) Velvets and Lemon Cream cupcakes prior to being frosted and embellished the next day. The RV was delicious and yummy right out of the oven, with no frosting whatsoever. (I had to taste almost a DOZEN minis to make myself believe it was true). I have always found scratch cake to be a little on the dry side, but the baking gods were on my side that Friday, yay! The lemon creams were good too, and I used Ina Garten's recipe for Lemon Curd...oh my heaven, it's amazing!!! I had a healthy dose of it straight from the spoon. Once or twice...or twentysomething. Who's counting?

This is where the gorgeous, well-composed shot of the frosted and decorated cupcakes goes, but...

There isn't one. In the flurry of departure, I forgot. I'm sawwy. I told ya, I'm new at this.

To paint you a visual, the red velvet cupcakes were topped with cream cheese frosting, some with chopped pecans, some without. On top of the raspberry (and a beautful pink shade it was)buttercream for the lemon cakes, I sprinkled "Raspberry" disco dust (Thanks BG!!) which made them oooh, sparkly. I can happily report, that even though I lack photographical proof, both versions of my cuppies found happy homes in the tummies of good friends and folks that I love!

Turtle Rescue!!

I have to being this entry with a little note about me and outdoor/woodland/swamp creatures...I'm not a huge fan. Oh sure, the occasional bunny or squirrel is fine, but my greatest fear about being mommy to a real "boy's boy" is the day when he starts bringing me frogs and lizards in his pocket, which everyone assures me is going to happen soon.

Well, it's kind of begun, but thank heavens I'm getting broke in easily.

Last night was the 2nd Florida native box turtle rescue missions we've been on in the last few weeks. Somehow, from somewhere, turtles are making their way into our (fenced) backyard.

This one was discovered by our trusty chihuahua watchdog, Rocco, and I quickly ran to it's rescue.
And then made hubby come pick it up. I think my exact words were "Rocco, no!" followed quickly (and loudly, as he was inside cooking dinner, the peach) by "Babyyyyy!!!! There's another tuuurtllle!!!!!!"

and he valiantly came to my rescue, as always. He then, not so valiantly, suggested to Monkey Boy that he and mommy should take the turtle out to the park where we had two weeks prior, released his brother back into the "wild". Great. Lovely. Monkey Boy was all about it and ran to fetch the turtle bucket.

Yes. I realize that my being afraid of a harmless box turtle is a bit ridiculous. I'm also paralyzed with fear by "harmless" tree frogs and the tiny little lizards that abound in Florida. I didn't say it was rational fear...eesh. It is fear, nonetheless, and it extends to a myriad of creatures with tiny little feet, not just those of the amphibian type. And turtles? Well, turtles are...they're just turtles, and I'm less equipped to explain the precise reasoning with the whole turtle thing. They're just well, ew. Oh well.

I'm reminded (by my own little version of Jiminy Cricket) that chances are, if you let your kid see every shining example of irrational fear and squeamishness that you possess, you are most likely going to end up with an irrationally frightened, squeamish kid, which of course, I don't want. So, I put on my big girl panties and off we go, turtle in bucket, to the Indian Mounds to give little pokey a new chance at life in a protected patch of forest with a pond.

Yes, this is me - fearful me, holding the turtle, just to show Monkey that he's harmless. Ew ew ew. Yes, I had palpatations, but managed to survive.

I just knew that pokey was a rabid turtle, about to go insane and turtle-bite-peck MM and I to death. I just knew it, and was ready to get him out of my hands and onto the ground quickly and without incident. Well, except for the quick photo op...if I didn't have evidence, would anyone have believed I picked him up? Hmm? Would you?

As luck would have it, (um, yeah, real lucky) there were mosquitoes the size of sparrows out and about at the Indian Mounds last night and we were really getting eaten alive by them, so we placed pokey down gently in the forest and hightailed it out of there.

He looks happy, right?

*No animals were harmed in the aforementioned adventure or the posting of this blog. I realize that it also has nothing to do with love, kneading, or any sort of culinary adventure. Sawwy. It's hard for me to follow even my own rules.*

My little fashionisto

This morning, Monkey Boy awoke happy and giggly...ate all of his breakfast, with little-to-no nagging and then...proceeded to have a meltdown over the shorts and t-shirt combo that I had picked out for him. Whah?

"I don't wanna wear that Rays shirt, mama. I want to wear the black one."

"You don't have a black Rays shirt, baby. The blue one is in the laundry, let's just wear this one."

"Noooooooooo!!!! I don't like that! I waaaannnnnnnaaaa wear another shiiiiiirrrttt"

"I don't like those new socks, they are wrinkly!!!" (Really? your socks are wrinkly??)

and so on and so on. If you have kids, you get the picture. If you don't have kids, well, be thankful you've not yet tangled with 3 year-olds that believe themselves to be the world's authority on everything. It's quite exhausting.

Monkey Boy tears down the hallway, in nothing but Batman underoos, hollering at the top of his lungs, extolling the heartache that has been caused by the threat of wearing a shirt that apparently finds offensive and begins to tear open his shirt drawer, selecting every shirt except one that will actually go with the shorts I picked out. Gah.

Finally, "he decides" that they baseball shirt is the right choice. By "he decides" I mean that I shove all the other shirts into the back of the drawer so he can't reach them, and wrangle the baseball shirt into his hand, maintaining that he picked it out all by himself. So what? I'm sneaky. Show me one mommy who isn't!

Yes, I realize that by indulging him in this outburst, I am setting myself up for future tantrums and wardrobe changes, but if he ends up being the only kid in this family, I have to play dress-up with someone!

Well...here goes!

Hi Anne!


Hi to anyone else that's reading this little project of mine, too! I'm not quite sure what I'm doing yet, but I have wanted to start a blog for a long time now, so here it is. I LOVE reading blogs, so makes sense that I would want to put one out there for myself, right? To explain the title, (catchy, no?) I am enamored of baking and cooking for the people that I love...

and others that I may not love, but like very much...

and pretty much anyone that will eat what I made.

It's true. It's in my blood. Thanks, family! Thanks a lot, I mean it.


Outside of exploring my exploits in the kitchen, I'm sure to be posting the newest goings-on about me, my husband (T) and son (C, Sweet Sugar, Bug, Monkeyhead, etc. - I'm a sucker for nicknames) and our lives in Tallahassee, Florida - a nice, fairly simple, unencumbered little life together. My triangle family, as I like to call it, even though the inclusion of Rocco the chihuahua makes it more of a square...I digress. This happens often - stick around and you'll get used to it.

All I really hope to accomplish with this little adventure is to have a creative outlet, and to put some of myself out there into the world, and hope that it makes someone (anyone, anyone at all) laugh, smile, cry or sympathize.

Welcome to my world friends!

Cindy