cake walk

"You can't judge a recipe's success based on how it turns out during Funeral Week."

These were Emily's words of encouragement to me as I faced this week--a somewhat daunting week which included four major baking assignments, one of which was to make Triple Caramel Cake, pictured above in our first post-Mother attempt.

The first task, cookies for Sarah's softball team, was a no-brainer. I can make chocolate chip cookies in my sleep. That was the first project to get crossed off the list, and one I did at about 11:30 Monday night, hoping that since I had already brushed my teeth, perhaps I wouldn't eat the dough. (I also had the good sense to mark the finished bag of cookies as off-limits to the rest of the family.)

The second was Emily's birthday cake--chocolate with White Mountain frosting. Though I can't yet make this one in my sleep, it's still a no-brainer, as it has been a family favorite for years and I've been making it since I was a young teenager. I made this one Tuesday afternoon and was pleased with the result (the cake, that is--no so much the decorative embellishments). Whew! Another one crossed off the list.

I knew I had to start the final two baking projects on Wednesday night if I was going to have them ready in time for a party I was invited to Thursday night. I am not as familiar with either of these recipes, as my mom had been the one to discover and make them in recent years. I would always frost them for her, but had never actually made the cakes myself. I started missing my mom again.

"If we're lucky, the world will end soon!" said Emily in another attempt to reassure me. In response to my questioning look, she clarified, "So we'll be able to see Grandma again and get cake-making tips." With this bit of encouragement, I pressed on and began caramelizing the sugar for the Triple Caramel Cake, and melting the chocolate for the Giant Ding Dong cake. There was no turning back now. (Yes, Miranda--I unabashedly took some Baker's Joy from my mom's stash.)

I finished baking both cakes and took the Ding Dong layers to my Dad's freezer for safe keeping and freshness protection overnight. After work on Thursday I frosted both cakes and was quite pleased with the results.

After some creative maneuvers to figure out how to transport the cakes safely to the party (which included the use of duct tape and a ceramic flower pot, held in place at Emily's feet) we arrived with everything intact!


It looks like I can bake cakes by myself after all.

farewell teenager

Twenty years ago at this very moment I was waddling the halls of Lutheran Hospital in Wheat Ridge, Colorado (pausing every now and then to breathe my way through a contraction). Emily was preparing to make her grand entrance into the world and despite the fact that I was having regular contractions, the nurses were not satisfied with my progress and suggested I walk the halls to speed things along. Suffice it to say that I am really glad it's 2010 and not 1990.

Little did I know at the time that the Lord was sending me one of His most amazing children to call my own.

Two years ago, before Emily left for college, I made a "10 Things I Love About You" book for her birthday. Though there are way more than just ten admirable, lovable, and endearing things I love about my second child, here are the ones I documented in her book:

• You are one of the hardest-working people I know. You don’t mind doing dirty jobs, and you do what it takes to get the job done—be it cleaning a bathroom, finishing a school assignment, or canvassing the streets of downtown Denver passing out flyers.


• I love your sense of humor! You’re not afraid to be a little goofy sometimes, and that just makes life all the more enjoyable.

• You’ve got a great sense of style. I love the way you combine textures, pattern, and color to come up with just the right outfit. I also love that you sometimes plan your outfits first on paper.

• Your priorities are in the right place. I love that I never have to guess on which side of the line you stand. I love you for making time for the things that matter most—you are an example to me and gentle reminder of the qualities I want to cultivate in myself.


• I love seeing your tithing envelope clipped to the strip by your door.


• I love your “Wood Eyes.” They are warm and true—just like your Dad’s.


• While everyone else screams, “SHOTGUN!” while racing to the car, you quietly—without murmuring—get in the back. I love the selflessness I see in you. I am often the surprised beneficiary, enjoying a freshly-mopped kitchen or a Clorox-fresh bathroom. Thank you.


• I love that you enjoy baking treats for our family and for others. You are so thoughtful and willing to go out of your way to brighten someone’s day with a homemade bit of goodness. (Side note--One of our favorite Emily quotes, when we were talking about social drinking: "I think cupcakes are the social lubricant!")

• Nothing is quite as satisfying as making a list. I love that you are a planner—a planner of parties, college financing, cleaning jobs, school assignments—you’ve got it all covered with one of your lists. I will miss seeing them posted by your door.


• I may make fun of it, but deep down I really like your serial-killer handwriting. (If you've seen it, you know what I mean.)


• I love and appreciate your determination to finance your college education. I see how frustrating it is at times—and wish we could do more to help you—but you never complain or express a sense of entitlement. I’m so proud of your hard work and dedication to making your own way.

So--although I miss the darling little girl who danced in front of the video camera in our old home videos and made goofy faces--and I sometimes feel like time passes all-to-quickly--I love the beautiful young woman you have become.

I thank my Heavenly Father every day for sending you to me.

Happy 20th Birthday, Emily!

blogger to the rescue!

My mother was well-known for her famously-delicious homemade baked goods--especially her cakes, pies, and breads. Of the many things I miss about her, one is her freshly-baked bread. She made it often and shared it freely, as it was one of the things she could still do given her visual impairment. I would commission loaves from her to deliver to ladies from church, or just because I was in the mood for one of my favorites. As I would thank her profusely when she handed over the still-warm loaves she would say something like, "Oh, thank you! You don't know how much I love having something to do, and helping you in the process."

Every year during musical season she would spend about a week making and freezing bread of all kinds to take to the kids during one of their long rehearsal nights. Bread Night is now legendary, and something all of the kids look forward to with anticipation. This photo was taken in March 2009:

Not long ago I realized, with some degree of panic, that I did not have some of my mother's recipes for my favorite breads. I enjoy making bread, too, but my mother had been the one to make it most often and I guess there were a few kinds that slipped through the cracks of my recipe books. Thankfully, as I was reading Miranda's blog one day I came across a post about my mother's buttermilk bread. I almost cried with relief to have the recipe right there for the taking! It's one of my favorites.

So last weekend, to go with a homemade pot of soup, I made my mother's buttermilk bread. I think she would have been proud of the outcome.

clogging blogging

Now that Mark has computer up and running again knock on wood) I can finally begin to attempt blog catch-up, starting with Sarah's national clogging competition at the end of May.

My good friend Linda drove to Utah with Sarah and I. We were making good time, and I had just remarked on it to Linda when she said, "Well, I hate to tell you this, but I think we've got a problem." Not good words to hear on a road trip.

The temperature gauge on her oh-so-reliable Subaru looked like this (aren't you impressed I thought to take a photo?):

After a stop at a Grease Monkey in Rifle, Colorado, where the car's fluids were replenished, we were on our way to Grand Junction, where we would have the car looked at by a Subaru dealer. (It turned out that nothing was wrong at all--perhaps just a loose radiator cap.) We laughed at this Grease Monkey sign, which of course would not have been so funny if the car had not been so easily fixed.

Charlotte got to spend the weekend with us, too, which proved an added bonus. We went shopping for wedding necessities on Friday night and then went to Pleasant Grove to stay with Linda's hospitable relatives.

The morning of Saturday's competition dawned cloudy, COLD, and rainy. Did Utah not get the memo that it was ALMOST JUNE? Linda, having packed for warmer weather, had to make a quick run to Kohl's for pants and socks before we left for Lagoon--the site of Clogging Nationals. We were all a bit skeptical upon arriving and parking at the amusement park, as evidenced by Charlotte's "I'm dreading being cold all day" expression.

I didn't take many photos of the actual dancing because I would rather watch the dance live than through the lens of my camera, if that makes sense. I'm really grateful that I have no cause in life that requires me to wear silver lame pants. I did enjoy watching the team perform in the tops I was hired to sew for them.

Sarah's team did really well, earning a Best Overall Team (in the intermediate division) for one of their dances, and the Best Overall Studio for their entire division! We celebrated that night by having dinner at the famed In-and-Out Burger.

Sarah looks a little too grown-up in her stage makeup, don't you think?

It was a short but fun trip. Now we get a break from clogging classes until August--that is, unless Sarah hears a toe-tapping tune on the radio and starts one of her routines in the kitchen, or down the aisles of Costco, or in the driveway. . . .

woe is me

Good grief--you'd think it was Musical Season again, given the dearth of postings on my blog of late. And what's more, our main computer at home is down--you know, the one with ALL OF MY PHOTOS ON IT. Despite Mark's valiant and ongoing effort to heal the blasted contraption, I am having to check email, blogs, etc. on various and sundry other computers when I get the chance.

I'm about ready to try my friend Paula's technique of showing the computer that I have a hammer and am not afraid to use it if necessary.

*sigh*

I hate computers.

Mother's Day, sans Mother

I had been dreading today, Mother's Day, since the day my mother died a little over one month ago. It turns out it wasn't so bad after all. My church meetings were uplifting (as opposed to the sometimes guilt-inducing or overly-sentimental Mother's Day diatribes), and I spent the day with my family--including two of my sisters. After church we drove to Ft. Logan, the cemetery where Mother is buried. We weren't sure if her headstone would be up or not and were pleasantly surprised to find that it was.

Since the graves in Mother's section are all relatively new, they don't yet have sod. Hopefully it won't be long before they do. There is something inherently pleasing to me about the orderly rows of identical headstones in the military cemetery.

Susan arranged a beautiful bouquet of flowers we took to church for the chapel, then came home and rearranged them--from the tall glass vase they were in to a low basket--to decorate the grave (better for not tipping over, should a breeze come up). It was, without doubt, the most stylish arrangement in the entire cemetery and one Mother would definitely love.

My dad held up well today and said that he felt Mother's presence at the graveside. It was a peaceful, happy feeling.

Susan and Fred came from Pennsylvania for the weekend--that's a Mother's Day gift in itself! Susan and I spent Friday and Saturday going through Mother's clothing and personal affects, sorting piles for distribution to family members, friends, etc. There were a few tearful moments, but more laughter and smiles as we reminisced together.

Karen came out for the day (Sunday) and was delighted with the things she received from Mother's stylish bounty! One of the items Mother wanted her to have was her gold wedding band. Dad bought a chain for it so Karen can wear it now without waiting to have it sized.

Mother had designated me as the recipient of her diamond ring, a beautiful ring that to me symbolizes 65 years of committed, loving marriage. My Mother's Day gift was to have the jeweler solder it between my two wedding bands. If you look closely, you can see the ring on my finger in the photo below.

Susan brought along some water to give the arrangement one last drink before we left. (Yes, those are fresh limes in the arrangement!)

Mother's headstone sentiment is a fitting tribute to the live she lived and the way in which she loved us all: Charity Never Faileth.

Today I feel grateful to see my mother's legacy living on in the women in my life, and hopefully in me. I love you, Mom.

six for saturday

1) This is the laundry pile that greeted me this morning. My dryer can't quite keep up with the washer, so the entire process takes a bit longer. Now it's 7 p.m. and I'm not quite half-way through it (all of the white fluffy stuff on the floor is costume laundry from the show--yes, I realize the show closed over six weeks ago).

2) Sarah has another sore throat, not sure if it's strep, but I think her tonsils are going to have to come out. She has been getting sick about once every month or six weeks. This is the pile of Puffs left in her wake. I can't seem to convince her that she can use each tissue for more than one wipe of the nose.

3) We took the car in today for a pre-road-trip diagnostic check. Mark says it runs sluggish when accelerating. I think only men (at least in my family) can hear car noises; as long as it starts and the A/C works, I think everything's fine. It turns out it needs new spark plugs and the fuel lines flushed. Who knew?

I like our local mechanic, Dustin. He owns the Lube and Latte.

4) John went on a Boy Scout camp out last night. They hiked into the campsite with all of their gear. This is John before he left on Friday afternoon (note Sarah's paper chain bedroom door curtain in the background--her own design):

And this is where his stuff got dropped this afternoon before he crashed for a nap on his bed:

5) I savored the last piece of my birthday cake (it had been patiently waiting for me in the freezer) which was a little more emotional than usual since it was the last cake my mother ever made. If I had known that when I had written the description on the Ziplock bag I certainly would not have added the exclamation point!

6) My dad generously took us all to Red Robin for dinner tonight. He and Mom used to like to go there for fish and chips regularly. They would always share an order, finding it to be just the right amount.

Tonight I shared the order with him.