Have a ever mentioned that I am brilliant? I thought not, so I am going to tell you a story that highlights just how special I am.
Last weekend, my family drove up to Edmonton for my cousin's wedding. Mom of course was in charge of flowers, so she and Dad headed up Friday morning while my sister, my brother, and my soon-to-be-brother-in-law left after we finished our respective classes. Because all three vehicles in our family had broken down in one day, we got to take Janine's car at the last minute.
Wedding was lovely, and seeing family was fabulous, but I'm sure you already knew that part. Fast forward to Sunday evening, when, after a weekend of catching up with cousins and aunts, admiring how beautiful Lindsay looked and chasing after nephews, I am at home again getting ready for another Monday. I feel uneasy about Mondays more than your average person because on Mondays I leave my house just after 7 and return around 9:30 or 10 at night. The idea of packing all three meals of the day has never been too appealing. Furthermore, after a weekend away, I know I am going to hit my snooze button as many times as I can get away with, so I prepare everything the night before.
Among my preparations was the task of finding my keys. When leaving on Friday, my keys had been placed in the purse I was taking before I learned we were taking Janine's car, so I was certain it would be an easy search.
Fifteen minutes later, every bag and coat I had taken to Edmonton had been scoured and still I had no keys. I decided that they must be in Neen's car, which Petey had taken out (long story, not that interesting). Of course, by the time he got home I was so tired I didn't even think about my keys. Janine went home, and I woke up Monday morning keyless.
I borrowed my dad's and stopped at Neen's house on the way to school, as my wallet was also likely still in the back seat. That is just how awesome I am. However, the keys were not there, and I went about my morning wondering where they could have disappeared to.
In the end, I decided I must have left them at our hotel in Edmonton. I called, and they told me no keys had turned up, but they would call me if they found them. I left it at that for a moment and went Christmas shopping.
I was walking back to my car when I started rooting around in my bag out of habit looking for my keys, even though I should have known the single key I had taken off my dad's keychain was in my back pocket. Lo and behold, the search I did without even thinking yeilded my keys, which had never been taken to Edmonton in the first place.
After a morning fruitless searching, chasing after my sister at 8 am, and coming up with worst case scenarios, you would expect me to jump for joy; instead my thought process went like this:
"No, no, not these keys. I need the single key I borrowed from Dad to open the door, as my keys are lost. Wait a minute . . ."
Have I ever told you how brilliant I am?
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
A few months ago a friend of mine hosted a Pampered Chef party. When the consultant began, she asked us all if we were a Martha, Betty, or Ronald in terms of how we cooked or didn't cook. While I love cooking of almost any variety, the fact that I still live at home factored in with how I get lazy and want to make things out of a box, led me to contemplate this question way more than necessary. In conclusion, I decided that I am a Betty who would like to be Martha.
A week or so ago, Colleen and I hosted a baby shower for Kylie and her new little boy Eli. Colleen, who is the queen of cards and stationary earned a Martha by making the most adorable invites with coloured paper and cut outs of little train engines; consequently setting the theme for our shower. When I host a shower of either the baby or bridal variety, I like to keep one thing consistent on the menu; cupcakes. Not only did I take a cake decorating class so I should be good at this, but last year my brother-in-law gave me Martha Stuart's Cupcake Cookbook for Christmas. So naturally I had to try something exciting, train-related, and that measured to the standards of an aspiring Martha.
Martha herself does not have a recipe for train cupcakes, but Google is a wonderful thing. All I had to do was search "train cupcake" and throw together all my favourite ideas. Here is the result:
Yes, they are very busy and incredibly sweet, but they looked so cute on their little table like they were real trains. I had a blast putting them together and now have proof of my awesome Martha-ness.
Or at least, my attempts.