Monday links and The Grants Do the Unthinkable
I present to you: anezkahandmade.com My god, what are you waiting for?
Scott tells you knitters not to miss this: You Knit What??
Interviews today and a few more this week. Am about to sell my soul to the yarn store in Mill Valley, if only they will allow me to wear comfy shoes to work there.
Curses! I've discovered Bakeshop Betty on Telegraph. Started by an Aussie import, she insists on producing bakery products so good it makes ones knees weak. Most exceptional, the very mouth-twisting best lemon bars and some kind of Aussie delicacy: rectangular generous wegdes of pound cake with raspberry jam and custard layers, dipped in dark chocolate and rolled in coconut. Fan-bloody-tastic. Tonight we are having their pot pies for dinner. Saturday in the shop was undiluted madness.
Sunday, I invited myself to my parents house to (my words) vomit Christmas up all over it. For the first time ever Steven and I decorated a tree using five massive barrells of X-mas ornaments collected by my mum over the years. As I was in charge and since we could be choosy, I set down criteria for ornaments:
Mom hauled out the Quiddler cards, Dad made pizza and Mark and Jules showed up. After dinner, my family surprised me with a lovely chocolate birthday cake (with sparkler!) and presents. I have never ever had a birthday surprise and it was great fun. Mark proceeded to remind me that I will be 38. I still say I'll be 94. I look great for 94, goddamn it.
The best part of the evening was watching my sweetly slower sister Heather add up her Quiddler scores in her head, far more successfully than my attempts. And then watching my mother try and cheat with "querys". And then she has the gall to pretend to be offended.
Steven has renamed the cats. Shred is "Walter" and Katana has evolved to "Clarence". I suppose he'll be calling me "Clive".
Scott tells you knitters not to miss this: You Knit What??
Interviews today and a few more this week. Am about to sell my soul to the yarn store in Mill Valley, if only they will allow me to wear comfy shoes to work there.
Curses! I've discovered Bakeshop Betty on Telegraph. Started by an Aussie import, she insists on producing bakery products so good it makes ones knees weak. Most exceptional, the very mouth-twisting best lemon bars and some kind of Aussie delicacy: rectangular generous wegdes of pound cake with raspberry jam and custard layers, dipped in dark chocolate and rolled in coconut. Fan-bloody-tastic. Tonight we are having their pot pies for dinner. Saturday in the shop was undiluted madness.
Sunday, I invited myself to my parents house to (my words) vomit Christmas up all over it. For the first time ever Steven and I decorated a tree using five massive barrells of X-mas ornaments collected by my mum over the years. As I was in charge and since we could be choosy, I set down criteria for ornaments:
- nothing hideous (all grandma robbins' ghastly late efforts were put back into the can. What was she thinking?!)
- handmade, if they were gifts they were put into prominance
- all veteran members of the Robbins' ornament collection (the elf, the christmas card angel)
- all handmade baked clay renditions of any of myself (photo on The Steven's Blog.) or my siblings
Mom hauled out the Quiddler cards, Dad made pizza and Mark and Jules showed up. After dinner, my family surprised me with a lovely chocolate birthday cake (with sparkler!) and presents. I have never ever had a birthday surprise and it was great fun. Mark proceeded to remind me that I will be 38. I still say I'll be 94. I look great for 94, goddamn it.
The best part of the evening was watching my sweetly slower sister Heather add up her Quiddler scores in her head, far more successfully than my attempts. And then watching my mother try and cheat with "querys". And then she has the gall to pretend to be offended.
Steven has renamed the cats. Shred is "Walter" and Katana has evolved to "Clarence". I suppose he'll be calling me "Clive".
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