Decorating With Fondant

I have always loved to bake. And suddenly I have an urge to learn how to decorate cakes. I have such great memories of birthday cakes my mom and her sister made for my siblings and I. Big Bird, a poppel, Winnie The Pooh and so many more. I would really love to do that for my kids someday.

This October, I decided to make a Sponge Bob cake for my friend Carla's daughter Sophia. So I asked my Aunty Anne if she would help me pull it off. Anne did most of the work. I watched as she made the fondant out of icing sugar and marshmallows. Then added color, rolled it out like dough and then I helped her cut it into the shapes we needed.

A few days ago, I made a Hello Kitty cake for Carla's other daughter, Isabel, on my own. I broke it down into 3 parts.
1. Made the cake & iced it with regular icing
2. Made the fondant, & added color
3. Rolled out the fondant, cut into shapes needed, and applied it to the cake

The only thing I will do differently next time, is make sure I overlap the pieces. You can see some white icing through the colored stripes. Other than that, I think it turned out pretty good.

Book: The Secret Life of Bees

After reading the heavy hearted book, "The Shack", this was refreshing. It's not the type of book I'd normally read, but I enjoyed it.

A 14 year old girl searches for love, belonging and information about her mom. Tragically she loses her mom at the age of four. She's left behind to grow up on a farm with her dad, who isn't the fathering type.

She runs away, following the only clue her mother left behind. A picture with the name of a town written on the back. She has no cidea what she'll find, but she heads out anyways. When she arrives, she finds her way to a bee farm. Here she learns about bees, her mom, herself and what love really feels like.

This book is set in a time where colored people are just beginning to have the right to vote. And addresses some racial issues. It made me think a lot about how extremely difficult it must have been for colored people to get through every day life. I'm glad things aren't the same today.

Book: The Shack is Done

So I finished reading The Shack. Overall it was a good book. I can't say I'd read it again though. The first 4 chapters (and the introduction) are like any other book. Character building...leading up to the heart of the story.

Then, it spirals into the trinity as three separate beings in a transformed location. All for the purpose of reaching the main character, Mack, in a way that would be easiest for him to identify with. He's taught a series of lessons during his stay with the trinity. The main focus though, is forgiveness and healing. Which are two things that most of us do need a lesson in. It took me a while to get used to God being portrayed as a large black woman. Not because of her size or skin color...just because we all have our vision of God, and this was not what I had in my mind. But it does make you think about the world we live in and our individual interpretations of God. You really have to be open minded while reading this book, and remind yourself that it's just a story. But there are some great lessons to be learned throughout. Some "ah ha" moments where you can really relate with the main character.

I am not fond of the depth of biblical discussion this book has to offer. Maybe it's the fact that I am closed minded to church these days. I found I got lost in chapters 6 through 14. Having to re-read some paragraphs a couple times to understand what was being said, and take a break in between deep discussions.

The interpretation of what happens to people that are taken from the world by evil is interesting. Even though this child was murdered, she remained in a place where there was no impatience. I find myself realizing how much better life would be if this were the way here on earth. But we are all too busy, trying to get a million things done, multitasking while life passes us by. Just think...a place where there is no impatience. What a thought.

At one point I read a line about how feeling lost and being lost are two different things. This is something we all know, but find sometimes it hard to accept. Our feelings are so strong they get in the way of our lives in ways we don't even realize until it's too late. Like in the place of faith, we have a thirst to understand everything. We always look for something tangible. This is our problem. But in this visual world...it's hard to get around this.

The topic of church is also discussed. How it may not for everybody. While I do believe that some form of spiritual growth is a must, I dislike church in many ways. This book talks about how we have turned church into a religious pattern and forgotten about what it should mean; what it's purpose is. And if you are there for the wrong reasons, no points are earned. You need to want to be there. Personally, I don't believe a Christian has to go to church to be considered a Christian. But they do need some form of spiritual growth to be in the equation. I have met plenty of people that go to church every Sunday, say they're Christians and then turn around and cheat on their spouse, use illegal drugs or abuse alcohol. No, we are not perfect, but I wonder how people can shun others that don't go to church when they themselves are living a lie. Church is not a miracle pill.

It closes the story well enough. But still leaves you feeling like there was something more that should have been in the final pages.

Somewhere in this mess, I became a book worm

I remember hating my English classes in junior high with a passion. When there was an assignment to read a book, I was the kid that watched the movie. If there wasn't a movie to be found...I would skip every couple pages and get my information from peers that actually read the whole book.

Somewhere over the past two years, I have developed a love for reading. I suspect the main reason why is the awkward co-worker lunch. I have really come to hate eating with the people I work with. This is probably due to the fact that they are all double my age, irritate me daily with their inability to operate anything technology has produced and some have the worst manners I have ever seen. I wont go into detail, but let's just say, I now understand what people mean by the saying "were you born in a barn?". They get to me, all friggin day. So naturally, I want to spend as little time as possible with them. I started reading in the park, over my lunch hour. As my imagination builds a picture in my mind, frustrations from work just melt away and I am immersed in the characters and their story.

While reading "Only Nuns Change Overnight by Karen Linamen", I found that some things were so interesting that I'd share them with people. Except, not knowing the rest of the book, said people weren't interested. So I started a book group. Yikes! I felt awkward about starting it. Wondering if people would think I was weird. Well, I am weird to begin with, so really, that doesn't bother me. But starting a book group just doesn't sound like me.

The first day this book group met, was great! We all had fun talking, sharing our opinions and listening to others. After it was over, I realized that I didn't want to start this group just to read somthing with them, I used it as an excuse to socialize and spark some deep conversations with people I trust and respect. So far so good. We are reading The Shack, by William Young. It's interesting...to say the least. There are times when I love it, and times when I'm not so fond of it's message. But it's a very descriptive book. As I read through it's pages, I daydream the scenes, making it seem more real. It reminds me of when I was little. I'd get ready for bed, and be so excited to drift off to sleep, because once I was asleep, my mind wandered. Bringing pieces of the day together, in strange ways sometimes, in color and so much detail. I guess reading and pictureing the scenes from a book is my dreamworld, in adult form.

10 Reasons why you need - therapy, to find a new job or rework your attitude

1) As you make your way to work every day, you throw up in your mouth a little at the thought of seeing your co-workers when you get there.

2) You close your door as soon as you enter your office to shield yourself from any contact with the co-workers that irritate the shit out of you.

3) A brisk walk (even in -50 weather) is needed in order to cool yourself off from the annoyances of your work day. But it doesn't work. You get home and ramble, hardly taking a breathe in between sentences...and your husband proceeds to take refuge in his office until you've calmed the fuck down

4) Co-workers become the butt of all your jokes

5) You don't answer the phone right away. You let people wait on hold for a minimum of 2 minutes because you dread speaking with them

6) You swear under your breath on days where your short fuse is even shorter

7) When you get a whiff of a co-workers body smell, you wish you could vomit on them, because you feel that you could handle that smell better

8) You dream that the object of annoyance has died or had an accident, and permanently replaced by someone who knows how to do their job

9)While helping a co-worker with a computer issue, you envision slapping them in the back of the head

10) Most of your blog posts are about how annoyed you are at your co-workers

You Should'nt Smell Like That!

I don't know about you, but I absolutely hate bad smells. I could be in the greatest of moods, suddenly smell something horrible and I'm instantly angry or irritated. Here's a few examples for you to enjoy.

Smoked Meat
This scent is ok when it's coming from actual smoked meat. But when a co-worker walks by and the smell wafts into my non-ventilated office, it disgusts me. I don't even want to know why they're emitting such an odor.

Ink
Oh yeah, ink. In large quantities this smells like diarrhea. It's especially nasty on a Monday morning. This is one of the reasons that I don't like to eat breakfast.

Fish
I will spare you the details of this one. You know what I'm talking about. And if you don't, I envy you.

Vicks Vapor Rub
This makes me want to gag. I know it helps when you're ill, but you'll never catch me trying it.

Flowers
Oh I know what you're thinking, "what's wrong with the nice sweet smell of flowers?" Well, a light spray is easy to handle, but I swear, some older women have lost their sense of smell. The zing of their perfume in my nasal passage. is similar to snorting pop up your nose.

B-O
This is the worst when you're traveling on a city bus in the winter. The person walks on and the gag reflex kicks in. You can't open the window because this city is so freakin cold...and you're stuck. Stuck smelling the dirty air from some soap deprived body. Who knows what kind of nasty germs you're breathing in.

I'll add more to the list as I think of them

Hamiton to Winnipeg...45 hour journey

On Dec. 20, 2008 I boarded a plane to Hamilton. I was excited to see my family and semi-excited for the road trip back home. I love to drive and I especially love road trips. But this one would prove to be like no other I had ever been on.

The plan was that I would fly out to Hamilton, stay a day and then drive back with my dad on Dec. 21, but that last part didn't happen. I was happy in a way, because it granted me more time with family. But when Tuesday, Dec. 23 crept up, and dad's truck was in the shop, I got nervous. I wanted to be home for Christmas. Around 6pm, Aunt Lisa drove me to meet up with dad at the garage. I said my goodbyes, then dad and I went to load up the truck.

His stuff was stored at 3 different places, so it took a while to pack everything into our vehicle. By 10pm we left Hamilton. Driving was good for a few hours, until we had to pull into a truck stop after our vehicle started chugging. The smell of gas was overwhelming. I looked under the truck and saw gas pouring out from the tanks. I wasn't surprised that we had broken down and I figured we'd be there for a while. After a couple hours of trying to figure out a solution, we decided that we'd call a tow truck and a mechanic shop in the morning. Sleeping in a hotel was an option, but paying $100 for 3 hours of sleep didn't make sense to me. So we slept in the truck. It wasn't cold outside and we had blankets, so we were comfortable enough.

Christmas Eve day, we awoke. As we waited for the tow truck, dad phoned 4 or 5 people to ask them to put money in his bank account, so he could pay for repairs. I watched as he used a tiny flashlight to read out the numbers. They must like him, because he ended up with $350. The tow truck arrived at 8am, towed us for 2 minutes and dropped us off at a Ford garage in Barrie, ON. We decided to shop while we waited.

At 1pm we started to walk back to the garage. On our way, we walked by a very cheery lady who gave dad two loaves of bread. I don't know what prompted her to do this, I suspect it had something to do with dad's hobo hair. Maybe he looked hungry. Then, we arrived at the garage and they told us that the people who last "fixed" the gas tank issue, had broken a couple pieces that were slowly destroyed even more as we drove. He had fixed the problem and assured us that we were good to go. So we started driving, again...with the hope that we'd make it the whole way this time.

Now, when you drive from Hamilton to Winnipeg on the Northern route, there is a long stretch of road between Longlac and Nipagon that is curvy, and a long long way without any signs of life. We drove through the blizardy conditions with caution. I was worried about falling asleep at the wheel, so I told myself that if I ever thought "I will just close my eyes for a second" that this was the point where I would not drive anymore. That moment didn't come, but I did, for the first time in my life, start to hallucinate. I was shocked and freaked out, so I told dad that I wasn't able to drive anymore. So he took over and after 30 minutes he couldn't go any farther either. After an hours sleep we continued on our way.

After about 20 minutes, the lights started to dim, then a loud screeching sound was heard as they brightened up again. This happened over and over again. We were very worried that it was the alternator. So we stopped, rummaged for a piece of cardboard to protect the rad, tightened some bolt, greased up a belt and continued driving. Things seemed fine again, for 30 minutes. Then, the fan made grinding noises and after a short while, it stopped working.

So here we were, in the wee hours of Christmas day, on the bad stretch of road, with no heat...using debit cards to scrape the frost off the windows, trying to keep ourselves warm with pillows lining the doors and blankets wrapped around us. At one point we stopped and bought a small heater which we propped up on the dashboard with a loaf of bread and it defrosted the window enough so we could see where we were going.

In Nipagon, I couldn't feel my feet. It was so hard to walk on them and the place we stopped at was closed. But thankfully the older couple there let us warm up after they noticed the frost covered windows. For the rest of the trip, we would stop at every place possible, face the truck to the sun so the frost would melt off, and leave it running while we used the hand dryers in bathrooms to warm up our shoes, socks and feet.

By 6pm Christmas day, we were home. I realized in a hot, hot shower that I had some sort of frost bite on my driving foot. My family arrived an hour after I got home, we exchanged gifts, I told them my story and we talked a bit. Missing 2 nights of sleep, I was not myself but I was happy to see them.

When I think about this trip, I realize how strong I am and how well I can handle myself in a bad situation. I was never so scared that I cried or was out of control with worry. At times I was a little concerned, but overall, I was very calm. I know now that I have something in common with my dad. We hide our concerns in order to be strong for family. And when faced with a tough situation, we try to figure out a solution before calling for help. If I could go back and change the trip, there's only one thing I would alter. I would have bought boots in Barrie.