Making a Death Star Cake

I've had three people contact me about the Death Star cake pictured in my previous post. I honestly don't have any advice about how to go about it...I just wing it when I make cakes, but I'm happy to share the process I went through.  

This was four layers...enough to make two whole cakes. When cooled, I frosted them and stacked them up on top of each other and put it in the refrigerator to firm up.  Once chilled, I started cutting it into a sphere shape.  When that was done, I put it in the refrigerator to chill some more, while making homemade fondant. It was my 2nd time making fondant...which is ridiculously overpriced and disgusting if you purchase the stuff, but really easy and pretty tasty if you make your own out of marshmallows. I tinted mine dark.  

Once the fondant was made, I covered the sphere, used a ball (about the size of a billiards ball) to make the indentation, and then sprayed it with edible silver paint.  Then I used a paint brush and edible black paint for the decor.  I drew lines all around it, and painted them in.  Added a green candy for the laser-thingy, and it was done.  

Here are some snapshots of the process, including one with Gator and his cake, and the cake half-eaten.  Hope this helps some of you with your Birthday Jedi needs!  

(You may be interested in my all-time most popular blog post about hosting a
Star Wars Birthday Party. I get about 50 visits a day to this post.)

Beauty From Ashes

And just like that, It's a NEW year!

To celebrate, I've created a new blog banner, with my NEW theme! It's my favorite one, ever.

(Fiery Phoenix Nebula, from which a beautiful new person is arising. Isn't she fantastic?!)

2011 is going to be all about renewal. It's about creating beauty, and starting fresh...like the phoenix rising up from it's ashes, being born anew.

Last year my theme of Come What May And Love It really did govern my attitude and approach to life. I felt myself actively changing, shifting, becoming different in how I approached things, as I incorporated that into daily life. It was good to have a solid year of reminding myself to just love what comes, because life is always going to throw a mix of experiences in our way, and the best we can do is make something better out of it.

So for 2011, my theme is Beauty From Ashes. I have always loved the symbol of the phoenix. According to mythology, a phoenix lives up to a thousand years. No matter how battered or damaged it may have gotten, at the end of it's life, the phoenix would build a nest. Then the phoenix and it's nest ignited in a brilliant burst of flame and were reduced to ashes. Then, from those ashes, a new phoenix arose, it's cry a beautiful song. In this way, the phoenix was said to be immortal.

While this body of mine certainly isn't immortal, my soul is. And so this year my soul's purpose is to create. Create beauty in my life and the life of those around me. To set and regularly work toward accomplishing meaningful goals. To notice and take opportunities to make life better for others. To be kinder. Complain less. Feel more grateful. Serve more willingly. Cultivate optimism. Pray more sincerely. Love more unconditionally. And to really enjoy the ride.

I was happier in 2010 than I've ever been. It was a year of wonders and growth. I made significant progress healing from the scars of a difficult childhood, and have been moving onward, putting the past behind me. Here's to an equally amazing 2011!

Happy New Year to you, dear blog friends!!! What are your 2011 plans?!

Grateful for:

1) Tender mercies from God in my life.

2) Support and love from dear family and friends

3) The endless possibilities of every new day.

Christmas Eve (at last!)

Tree Trimmed: Check
Presents Wrapped: Check

Work Completed: Check (should be qualified with "all the work that is going to get done")

Managing the anxiety of kids going crazy with anticipation: Check

Overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity of everyone: Check

We didn't send Christmas cards this year. I know, so lame. But we have a whole wall full of beautiful faces and warmest wishes. Love getting the cards from everyone...and my annual Christmas Wall of Fame is just as robust as on previous years. Thanks for the luvs even though we didn't manage to get cards out! Maybe something in the new year?!

Merry Christmas to the whole world! Even if you've never heard of Jesus Christ, and those who have but don't believe he was the savior, I wish you the blessings of this season. May your heart be filled with happiness and peace be yours. ♥

Grateful for:

1) Thoughtful neighbors

2) Generous friends

3) Joni. But she'll be getting her very own post here soon. Very soon.

THE Answer has arrived...

(This one no longer applies)

Apparently, 42 is The Answer-- to Life, The Universe, and Everything. So this is going to be a fantastic year...I can tell.

Of course, once you turn 43, it no longer applies, so I intend to enjoy it to the max! Bring it!!!

Grateful for:
1) Such an outpouring of warm wishes, love, and extreme generosity! And it's only just morning still!
2) Honest people...left my iTouch at a restaurant and they contacted me on facebook to tell me it was there waiting for me.
3) Today.

11-11-2010

Two-layer Cakes baked: 18
Batches of buttercream frosting whipped up: 18
Bowls of assorted sprinkles, candies and other deco: 9
Bags of frosting with inter-changable decorating tips: 6
Totally great kids in attendance: 21
Large pizzas consumed: 4
Liters of Soda drunk: 8
Ice cream sundae's served: 19
Nights in a row of too little sleep while flying and then baking: 7
Having a happy fourteen year old daughter: Priceless

The back of my car with the cakes loaded up to take to the party


Scenes from the party, including a number of the guests and their creations




























The little sister she never had...


Group shot of some of the guests



Grateful for:
1) Shelah & Ed
2) Good girls for Bunch to have as friends
3) Time to work on my NaNoWriMo again! (I'm a solid week behind now.)

Memories of Halloween

Memories of Halloween

A Personal Essay

As a child, I couldn’t wait for Halloween. It was my favorite holiday because I was in direct control of how much loot I acquired, whereas during other holidays, I had to rely on the generosity of Santa and others. Whoever invented Halloween was brilliant!

There was no limit to the amount of candy I hoped to collect, so as soon as I could possibly get started, I was out the door. Trick-or-Treating was a sport to me--and I ran from house to house to reach as many as possible, till there were no more lights on and I had to return home.

I felt justified in this marathon effort, because the amount of candy I collected, and the amount I was allowed to eat, were two different things. We weren’t allowed so much as one piece of candy before coming home, because my mom had to inspect it for poison or razor blades. Which confused me because it seemed to me if someone were devious enough to dip your Tootsie Pop in arsenic, they'd probably re-wrap so it would look untouched.

The driving force behind my quest was that we had to give fully *half* of our haul to, oddly enough, the kids at the State Mental Hospital. In all my life I never heard of anyone else who did this. It wasn’t advertised or promoted at school, church, or on the television. I honestly have no idea how they came up with this idea, but nevertheless, upon returning home we'd dump out the spoils, line them up in order of importance, and then skim off the top half to keep ourselves, sacrificing the rest to the poor unfortunates who couldn’t participate in this annual free-for-all. It should go without saying that the kids at the mental hospital never saw any of my chocolate bars.

I assume my parents wanted to teach us selflessness, or at the very least, curb sweet tooth development, but that clearly backfired. Deprivation has a sneaky way of making you want more of the item, and so I became a bonafide sugaraholic. Starting in 3rd grade I worked in my school cafeteria so I could get a free lunch, and I remember the cook telling me that I'd probably have diabetes someday because of all the sweets I consumed (hail the chocolate chip cookies, cinnamon buns, and those tasty grape Popsicles!) I didn’t know what diabetes was, but I definitely wasn't concerned…I was an immortal nine-year old.

One thing I was grateful for was that I never had to wear the cheap-o box costumes sold at stores in the 1970’s; if you’re old enough, you’ll remember these printed plastic-sheets that tied on, topped off with a mask with tiny nostril holes for breathing. Most kids wore the mask on top of their head like a hat because they were so uncomfortable, especially pokey eye holes. But fortunately, we had a good assortment of dress-ups at our house, including a few wigs which always added legitimacy to any outfit. We always came up with something so as to avoid resorting to the dreaded boxed costume option.

The year I was eight Halloween came on a Sunday. Nothing could have been more devastating to me, a church-going, newly baptized, commandment-abiding Mormon girl, than to have my favorite holiday fall on a Sunday. I knew there was no way we'd be allowed to trick-or-treat on the Sabbath. My parents were surrounded by a pack of sad-faced kids, wondering how we could make it through the next year without our annual stockpile of goodies. Their solution? We’ll let you go trick-or-treating on Saturday instead! That’s what they do out in Utah. Which was great, except that we lived in California.

Perhaps they were embarrassed to be seen out on the 30th, but for whatever reason, instead coming with us they got our teenage neighbor Peggy to take us. Peggy had struggled with her weight for years, which was, in this situation, to our advantage. We knew she’d be a respectable escort because she was as interested in the free candy as we were.

We started making our way around the neighborhood, but it was noticeably slim pickings that night. Many people weren't even home, and those who were wondered why this pack of kids was at their door a day earlier than scheduled. We boldly announced "we can't trick-or-treat on Sunday" (some suspected us of planning to go out both nights--which was, in my mind, not a bad idea!). A number of them hadn't bought their candy yet. We got a lot of apologies and pennies that year. It was awkward, but I was a devoted disciple to sugar and would not be deterred.

I looked forward with great anticipation to sixth grade, when I would start junior high school at TeWinkle, which was named for the first mayor of our town years before. But despite my anticipation, that was a difficult time for me. Already wildly unpopular in grade school, the problem only got worse at TeWinkle. I struggled to fit in with not only the kids I'd known during grade school, but also all the new kids. Most of them seemed to be from well-off families, and they had an air of confidence about them that I simply couldn’t seem to acquire. I thought if I could just get myself into the popular group life would be a dream, and spent hours wondering how I could achieve that goal.

The year I was in sixth grade, the Rubik's Cube became enormously popular. Everyone had one, and contests were held regularly among students to see how fast the puzzle could be solved. I had a stroke of genius one day to be a Rubik's Cube for Halloween that year! We got a big, square cardboard box, a half-dozen florescent, glow-in-the-dark paints and some black tape to divide the colors into sharp, perfect squares. Holes were cut out for my head and arms, and the bottom was left open for my legs. It was a beautiful costume and I couldn't wait to wear it. Though sitting in my desk was, admittedly, awkward. But my costume was a big hit with my classmates. It was a happy day.

In seventh grade, I had a horrible time trying to decide what to be for Halloween. I yearned come up with something clever, even better than the Rubik’s Cube of the previous year. But by the afternoon before Halloween, I still hadn't settled on anything and was feeling discouraged. A friend of my mother's from church was over visiting my mom that day. Honestly, she wasn’t my favorite person; her son was one of my primary tormentors but she never intervened which made me wonder if she had something against me. Plus she usually just ignored me when I was around her. But this particular occasion she was being so friendly that I decided I perhaps I’d been mistaken (after all, her husband was a bishop, and everyone knows that only men with nearly perfect wives are made bishop!)

While mourning over my plight, my mom’s friend (who was one of those who always seemed to have advice for every situation) began telling me about some wonderful costumes she'd heard of. The first one got me really excited. She knew a man who had made a costume toilet out of cardboard for his child! The child stood in the tank part, which had holes for his head, arms, and feet. The bowl of the toilet extended out front and had a lid on it, which the child lifted up for people to put candy into. The whole thing was painted white, and a plunger was used as a hat. She said it was just darling! I was very sad that I'd heard about it so late; I'd have to wait till the following year to be a toilet, because there just wasn't time to put it together that day.

But her next idea was even more wonderful because it was totally doable! “Take a garbage bag, cut holes for your head and arms to go through, write the word "GLAD" on the front with masking tape in big letters, and go to school as a GLAD Bag!” Why hadn't I thought of such an idea? It was unique, quick and easy, and I had everything I needed. Plus, I was an upbeat, Glad-kinda-gal! Boy, she really did always have an answer for everything, that’s for sure.

I decided to wear a leotard and black tights underneath the bag, and I could also carry an extra GLAD bag for trick-or-treating at night...which, BONUS, would hold a massive amount of candy! This was going to be a big hit at school the next day; I could hardly wait!

Morning came and I eagerly donned my costume and rode my bike to school. It was always such fun to arrive at school on Halloween day and see all the other kids, especially when you had a great costume on yourself.

It started in the bike rack where some boys were just arriving as I was walking out. Some comment was made about a garbage bag. I ignored them, knowing inside they were just jealous because my costume was better than theirs (after all, how original is dressing up as a girl?). But as I walked to class, several other comments were tossed at me (I would soon wish that was all that got thrown that day), and I started feeling frustrated that they couldn't see that I was a GLAD bag, not a garbage bag.

First period in English class I took my seat. There was a garbage can a few feet in front of me in the corner, but when you have a bag sitting three feet closer, why bother with the can? All during class little wads of paper, erasers, tissues, and other trash were surreptitiously tossed at me. I couldn't wait for class to end so I could get away from there.

By lunch time I was wishing desperately that I had worn something else, but I kept my chin up. Our lunch yard was outdoors, so I got my lunch in the cafeteria and went to find a seat. I was specifically looking for somewhere to eat that wasn't anywhere near a garbage can. I found a table near the front of the lunch yard, in hopes that the lunch attendant would be able to see me and ward off any attempts to "help keep America looking good" through proper waste disposal.

Sometimes when you're a kid it seems like responsible adults are never there when you need them (eg: wasn't that pretty much Harry Potter’s whole problem?), and this lunch period was one of those days. Butter, soft from sitting in the sun, found it's way into my hair. A spoonful of mashed potatoes flew through the air and emergency-landed in my lap. It rained chocolate milk that sunny afternoon, followed by a hail storm of peas. When a ketchup-covered hot dog chunk hit me in the face I could no longer ignore the attacks. Humiliated, I ran for the bathroom. After cleaning myself up as much as I could, I called my mom and told her I was sick, got released, and rode my bike home.

After that, my zeal for Halloween diminished appreciably. Since I’d come home “sick” I couldn't go trick-or-treating that night…but somehow filling my enormous GLAD bag with candy didn't seem as important to me anymore. Halloween had lost some of it's magic.

Oh, in case you were wondering, No, I didn't go to school as an eighth-grade toilet the next year either. After what I’d been through, I had new insight into what being a toilet at a junior high school named WeTinkle, I mean TeWinkle, might be like.

25 August 1990

Grateful for:

1) The Good, The Bad, The Ugly, The Beautiful, and all the Lessons Learned.
2) This first image of us as married people.
3) The chance for another 20 years. There may be no such thing as "wedded bliss", but I'm grateful for my life with this wonderful man (who, as it turns out, left for work before 4:30am today). ♥ you Doc!

Eleven

Eleven years ago today my last baby was born. I didn't know at the time he'd be my last, but it's become clear that he is.

Gator is a lot of things:

• a great snuggler in the mornings
• a terrific hug&kiss goodnighter before bed
• Possibly Lego Corporation's biggest fan
  
• obsessed with all-things Star Wars
• super quick to forgive others
• not super confident about himself
• mischevious
  
• funny--he seemed to be born with a remarkable sense of humor.
  
• highly creative and talented in fun, unique ways
  
• sensitive
• sometimes stubborn
  
• super observant of details
• very intelligent
• disinterested in school (to put it mildly)
• sometimes anxious
• has a seemingly unlimited appetite for electronic games (which we try constantly to keep in check)
  
• can't get enough of Night Games--especially capture the flag
• a builder of Binder Clip Warriers and stager of Paper Clip battles
  
• a maker of cool stop-motion movies
• completely content with an absurdly messy room. [sigh]
  
• a great strategist in battle scenes
  
• an avoider of bathing and changing clothes
• fair-minded
• tender-hearted (can't stand to see any living thing hurt.)
• fiercely devoted to his cousins, whom he adores
• a great reader
• a big sweet-tooth (it's genetic!)
  
• honest (one of the qualities I love most about him)
• kind-hearted.
  
• a huge fan of his "can do no wrong" dad
• a home-body
• a lover of John Williams music
• not into any kind of athletic sports
• an eschewer of fashion/shopping/clothing
  
• terrific at making lots of different sound-effects with his mouth
• an introvert
  
• a dreamer
• a great example to his big sister
  
• a believer in keeping the rules
• a truly good person
• now done with Cub Scouts
• not a fan of change
  
• newly into riding his bike
• loather of riding the bus to school
  
• a lover of adventure movies
• a highly-selective eater (is that diplomatic enough?)
• a very important person to a lot of really cool people
  
• keeper of an enormous piece of real-estate in my heart. He's the greatest son I could ask for!

I love you angel boy! Thank you for bringing such joy and happiness to my life. You teach me so much, and our family just wouldn't be as awesome without you! Happy 11th Birthday today!

Birthday celebrations begin at breakfast and last (at least) the whole day long! This year we partied a few days early since Doc's on a grueling surgery rotation and Bunch is away at camp.


His party was at Nickel Mania--a local nickel arcade.




The party crew. Dad, Uncle, sister, and all the friends we could round up on the second-to-last weekend of summer.


First game he tried out. Naturally!


Gator and his favorite guy...Daddy...hitting the speed-boat games.


My favorite picture of the day. Love my boy!


Grateful for:
1) Boys and all their boyness.
2) Childhood with all it's mystery, magic and wonder
3) Lots of time to celebrate during this last, lazy week of summer