“If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad”

Everyone has a code, some are easier to read than others.  I’d like to think I’m a pretty open-ended gal, easy to read, nearly all of the time.  Knowing me, means knowing that after time, my tenuous moods, aren’t so tenuous, but rather boringly predictable. 

• When I’m sad I watch White Christmas (Bing Crosby cures all)
• When I’m anxious I scrapbook (Two-way tape cures all)
• When I’m stressed I take a bubble bath (Radox Muscle Soak cures all)
• When I’m mad, I write letters (Merriam Webster Thesauraus cures all)
• When I’m happy, I say so (Honesty cures all)

And then, there’s one thing I do throughout it all, when I’m happy it makes me giddier, when I’m sad it cheers me up, when I’m anxious it calms me down, when I’m mad, well usually I just measure things wrong and something turns out wonky, but Damn if I don’t feel less like Cruella Devill and more like Martha Stewart (Pre-jail era) once I’m done. 

Baking. 

I know, I know, it’s a bit dorky, but I just love getting my bake on.  Wow, I could’ve made a comeback before that last sentence, but now I think I’m a real goner.  A goner with sugar cookies mind you.  I’m feeling extraordinarily rambly today in case you can’t tell… I love to bake, any excuse and I’m all over it.  Usually every couple weeks or so I’ll bring in cookies, tarts or  brownies for all the men at my work but every so often we have a birthday and I like to go all out.  

Betty Crocker mixes begone, I stood Monday night in +24 kitchen (Unusually hot for Calgary this time of year) switching my oven on to 350.  Good god in heave, that Amanda didn’t kill me and actually helped me with her artistry skills in cutting parchment paper was a miracle on 34st.  So pulling out all stops for one of my favorites at the shop I brought out the 12 layer cake recipe.  Yes, I just said 12 layers.  12.  Layers.  Actually here’s the part where I fess up and admit that I left two layers off accidentally and they actually are still sitting outside ‘cooling’ on top of the BBQ.  (Camille code: I AM THE MOST FORGETFUL PERSON EVER!)

This time I actually remembered to get my camera for pictures of my kitchen debacle:

I’m a bit of a, shall we say, all-over-the-place baker…

I had an intense measuring system for making sure each baked cake would be the same amount of batter….I later showered to find beige batter in places beige batter ought not to go.

Almost done, this looks like an ad for Denny’s Pancakes, with a potentially diabetic coma inducing amount of syrup draped over them.

Excuse our mess of a fridge, and by our mess, I mean mostly my mess, because, well, look at that first picture.  I’m kind of an all-over-the-place kind of person.

Look! Dishes!  I can be helpful some of the time!