Today's Special

Well, you were going to be treated to an adorable picture of Wiggle Man helping The Rev install new door knobs. (We have decided to banish all brass from our new house, and the door knobs were our first victims. Be worried, mid-nineties vanity fixture...be worried. You're next.)

Anyway.

The pictures came out all blurry, and not nearly as adorable as in real life. (They work fast...I had no time to adjust settings. That's my story. Seriously.) This kid is crazy--after two days of helping Daddy switch out knobs (we have a lot of doors in our house, ok?) Wiggle Man now knows where all the parts go, and puts them in for The Rev to drill.

Really and truly.

Ok, ok, I give. Here's a shot. Not my best work, remember:

Still, it gives you a general idea of the cuteness and male bonding going on in our home. Wiggle Man loves to fix things just like The Rev. Last night Wiggles used his toy hammer to...hammer (???) his Handy Manny chair. (You get what you give, Manny.)

And, since I know you're all dying to know what else I've been up to...well, I've been getting my Martha Stewart on. (That sounded better in my head. Huh.)

Moving on...

This is the pumpkin spice cake I made. Tomorrow, I shall sculpt it. Oh yes, I'm going to make a stack of mini cakes, and sculpt them into a pumpkin. Then I shall frost it, and cover it with rolled fondant that I shall make myself.

This is what watching Food Network will do to you. It makes you believe that you, too can have the skills of a trained pastry chef merely by watching television.

Shopping for these lovely ingredients gave me a new idea to feature on my blog: playlists. Who is in charge of this in grocery stores? Do any of you know? What qualifications do you need?

Today's special is: I Don't Know How To Love Him from Jesus Christ, Superstar; the instrumental muzak version (think elevator music) of Part Time Lover; and Close Every Door from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. And that's just what I could remember...who know what else slipped into my subconscious while I was examining produce. I don't normally get to belt out showtunes while grabbing my yogurt. It was...different.

So, I came home and did something a little more normal. I made chicken stock. It looks gross, but smells amazing. When I'm done here, I'm off to strain it. Tomorrow it shall be the base for my chicken pot pie. You know, real chicken pot pie. Like we do up north. Where it's actually a pie.

And now, having done my part to ensure the chicken pot pie debate will continue, I will take my leave.

PS--I eat the other kind, too...I just call it chicken and dumplin's. (I don't think there should be a 'g' on dumplin's...it just sounds yummier that way. Feel free to debate that, as well.)