Things that suck a little

Well this cake actually sucked a lot.  I made one a while back for a family dinner and worried and stewed and gloomed (my blog… I get to make up words) and predicted awfulness since it was the first time I’d made that recipe, but it was wonderful!  A yummy moist gluten-free orange cake, even better with whipped cream.  It was so good I decided to make it again a few days later for a boy who had missed out.  (And for me.  Because it was SO good.)

This time.. not so much. That freak would not cook through.  I kept putting it back in the oven for more and more time until I had to give up and go to bed.  I took another crack at it the next day, putting it in a low oven and wondering if I could salvage some sort of biscotti transformation. Well no.  Just a still-raw cake.  How is that even possible after the hours it logged in the oven? I finally waved the white flag and sent it to the garbage.

And then this.

Yeah.  A plate painted by a girl I know.  Busted.  Just like the heart of who it was painted for, as written on the still fine bottom:

So I keep forgetting to get the right glue, because I want this to have the very BEST glue, but then I’m going to glue back all those little pieces and it’s going to look notchy and imperfect and a bit weird, and its days of serving fruit and cookies are probably done, but it’s going to go on my shelf and still be awesome and I’m still going to love it to bits.  I like things that are imperfect and a bit weird.  I’ll post a shot when I get it done.

Still.  Sucked a little.

My swallows are back this year and were fixing up the old place and managed to knock off a chunk.

Sucks a little as, being kind hearted and slightly cracked like the plate above, when I had the house painted a few years ago I waited till the family had moved on for the year and then got the painters to go around this sacred establishment.  And now… that shows.

That one really just does suck a little.  I can live with that.  I’m hoping mom swallow settles down a bit though.  I assume that one of every swallow pair that nest there is a grown up baby that I used to talk to.  This year it must be the dad.  Mom is not at all sure she wants to nest so close to my front door and dives out and swoops me every time I go past.  Talk to your husband, Madame.  I is on your side.

And as these sucky things get smaller and smaller and I remember anew how blessed I am I will barely be able to raise a pout in reporting that I mistakenly put sugar in my tea twice this morning.  That was some sweet tea.  But you know what? I worked pretty fast for a while there!

And I got to take a desk shot which always makes me feel a little artsy, and I managed to slip the new bookmarks in the shot.  Made a few months ago when there was a bit of a   pause and I needed to put paint on paper instead of canvas.

So much fun.  I was feeling a little birdy and a little beachy.

Good combination.