Michelle Kicks the BLEEP Out of Cancer (Round 2)

What's a few bucks?

Earlier this week, I accidentally spent a chunk of change on a new jacket. All week long, I easily spend 5 dollars on Venti Americanos at Starbucks. Let's not even talk about the 13 dollars I put out to go see a movie, plus another 12 dollars on popcorn and KitKat bites. The worst part is, none of that will help to cure cancer. But, guess what? Your donation of a few bucks will help cancer research. Donate now and let's kick the $hit out of cancer.

For the second year in a row, I am participating in 30 Minute Hit Kicks the *&%! Out of Cancer to help raise funds for the BC Cancer Foundation and women's cancer research at the BC Cancer Agency. Last year I did 50 and it nearly killed me, so I am going to be slightly more conservative this time around and just pledge to show my face at the gym a few times!

We all know people who have been hit by cancer and it’s our turn to hit back. Every donation counts - it all adds up!  I greatly appreciate your support and will keep you posted on my progress.

To make a donation online, visit my Personal Fundraising Page HERE! 

Seriously, go there and hit Donate Now.  

Baby Damo

Oh, you haven't heard? The baby is here, the baby is here! Damon William Swain-Little has arrived. He was born on August 31, arriving in the wee hours of the morning. Damo was born 5 lbs 9 oz, quite tiny. At just under three weeks old, I believe he is still under 6.5 lbs. Such a cute little guy. Unfortunately the night of his birth, I had left the hospital to go home and catch some sleep and missed the whole thing. To be honest, I'm not that sad about that- apparently it was a rather horrific affair. Luckily everyone was so exhausted that they left shortly after he was born. Know what that means? It means that when I showed up the next morning I was the first in our family to hold the baby. I am still stoked about that. Pretty sure Damon will be like 20 years old and I will still be telling that story. Crazy Aunty Shelly he will call me.


Welcome Damon and Congratulations Lisa and Slatedogg. Here's some shots of big Dmoney.

PS. I've given up on even trying to be the best aunt. Amanda has that in the bag. She likes diaper changing and doesn't mind being puked on. 

Butter Tarts Bake-Off

On Friday I came across this ad:

3rd Annual Great BC Bake-Off
Think you’ve got superior baking skills?
Prove it in our amateur baking contest!
Enter all three categories or just one.

1. Fruit Pie – any kind of fruit cherry, peach, apple, berry etc.
2. Open – anything goes within the outlined rules – entries must not require refrigeration
3. Butter Tarts  – this is a Canadian competition after all!

How could I possibly resist? Answer: I couldn't. My first thought was to enter all three categories, but that I actually had plans last weekend so I didn't really have time to do a bake-a-thon. For some strange reason I decided on butter tarts. I don't even really like butter tarts. I am not a pastry person. It's a guilt laden confection full of butter, or as I found out in my preceding research, lard - more on this later.

It's tart time. *Rubs hands together excitedly*. Normally I would go straight to google, but this, this is butter tarts. Butter tarts are an old people thing (and I say that affectionately). This is a grandma recipe - I phone her immediately. Her phone is busy. sigh. Three minutes later, she calls me back at work - the old broad has call display! I ask Nancy for her recipe, which she digs up and recites for me. The pastry recipe is my great grandma's. Apparently she was a great and avid baker. Must be where I got my mad skills from. My grandma then tells me she almost always just uses pre-made, frozen tart shells - such an ungradma move ***Face Palm*** twenty-five minutes of chit chat with grandma and I am armed with a butter tart recipe that looks deceivingly simple. I get scared and turn to google to counter research. At the same time I throw out some feelers in the office to see who has butter tart experience, advice or preference - there are lots of takers and I file their comments under 'uninformed nonsence'.

My research results pretty much showed that butter tart recipes are all fairly similar. There are only a few ingredients, so the amounts range slightly and there is a grand debate on whether or not adding nuts in is OK. I immediately, without a second thought, deemed nuts a Yes - pecans are god's gift to baking. In regards to pastry, all signs pointed me in the direction of the Tenderflake Pastry Recipe. It's as old as the hills (total grandma saying) aka tried, tested and true. For those of you who don't know- tenderflake is a brand of Lard. LARD! I've spent 25+ years avoiding lard. I don't even know, or want to know what it consists of. The fact that it doesn't need to be refrigerated, is colorless and mostly tasteless are enough for me to kill any and all Lard-yearnings. However, I sometimes must concede my snot-face and just bite the bullet and join the masses in their lardy lifestyles.

I borrowed Mom's tart tins, I believe they were wedding gifts to her 33 years ago. I thought it was kind of neat that I was using vintage tins to bake an old family tart recipe (kind of). Turns out old pans suck- they are not non-stick. Insert super aggrieved face. My first three dozen- that's 36 bloody tarts - stuck to the stupid vintage tart tins. I probably spent 1.5 hours rolling, cutting and filling those old, ugly tins. I even used an adorable flower shaped cookie cutter. Imagine the horror at having to scrape these pretty confections out of the tins - losing all the delicious crust of which I had so deliciately placed. IMAGINE! you probably can't. that's okay- I live that nightmare over and over again, certainly enough for the both of us. Following my scrape fest I went to bed.  By this time it was midnight. and I was tarted out.

6am, Saturday morning - up and at'em. I took my wonderfully chilled dough and grabbed my non-stick muffin tins and made fast work of three more batches. I even tried a batch in my new SQUARE individual brownie pan. they all came out lovely. I delivered some to neighbour Wendy and downstairs neighbour Cam. I dropped a dozen off for my parents, complete with my mom's tart tins. I packaged two dozen up to take to work on Monday and one more dozen to go to Nick's. I left a few at my house and set six aside for the Bake Off, of which I was now wavering on. Somewhere during this process, I realized that i might not be ready for a butter tart bake off. I mean, there's people who have been baking butter tarts for 30 years. I've only done one batch. True, everyone who ate them gave them a 10+ rating, but people are liars. I decided to bow out of the competition this time. I am officially on the lard bandwagon though and plan to perfect my pastry over the next little while. Pies, anyone?

 

 

Commissioned Baker

Laura From Work (LFW) agreed to cater a wedding for a friend of hers and asked if I would help with the baking. How could I say no? I actually, physically couldn't. Perhaps one day I will grow a back bone and learn to turn things down, but these days I'm a Yes girl. Unless it's in relation to eating Fish, then I can No the crap out of it.

After this adventure I realized that baking as work and baking for fun are two totally different things. When I bake for fun, I can mess around with the ingredients, let cat hair get in the goods and lick the spatula whenever I please. Work baking, not so much. Although I MIGHT have accidentally licked the spatula once or twice... might have! That is in no way a confession. I am a weak person. who can say no to spatulas covered in chocolate? If I ever meet that person i might light them on fire to make sure they aren't a witch, or perhaps stab them with a stake to make sure they aren't a vampire. No real, good human being in my association says no to chocolate. At this point, if you hate me because YOU don't like chocolate, you can leave. Go. go right now. check yourself into a mental health facility and figure your sh*t out. Then go eat a chunky KitKat bar and enjoy life. *rant over*

My baking assignment was this: 3 key lime pies, 3 batches of mini 2 heart cheesecakes (new york style) and 2 double layer chocolate cakes with butter cream icing.

The key lime pies turned out super amazingly delicious. I actually followed them up with a batch of mini key lime cheesecakes, topped with a key lime reduction sauce, but i still had more limes left so i made a batch of shortbread lime bars. This, of course, was after some limes had been appropriated as beer limes.

I made a double batch of the chocolate cake recipe and the first batch of cakes stuck to the pan which made them not usable. Apparently reading the directions helped. Step 1, line pan with waxed paper. Apparently greasing and flouring the pan is not sufficient. Oh well, those cakes are in my freezer and will be turned into cake balls at some later date - stay tuned. The other batches of cakes came perfectly.

Third- mini cheesecakes. 72 of them. that's 6 cupcake pans. LFW gave me 2 to use, I own 1 (which is blasphemous and which I will rectify soon by borrowing one of mommy's), and I broke into Cam's apartment and stole two more. Which is 5. So I made a TRIPLE batch of cheesecake batter, which is like 16 bars of cream cheese and a kajillion eggs and three tons of sugar. Deliciousness. Andddd time consuming. I had to pre-bake the mini crusts and let them cool, and fill each cup with filling and then put two dots of raspberry coulis onto each one and drag a toothpick through to make it look like 2 hearts, then i had to bake them in water baths and then chill them. A project and a half. They didn't even turn out that cute. Delicious yes, cute meh.

I made some bucks doing it and it was a neat project to undertake, so I guess it was worth it. My first commissioned baking assignment, and perhaps my last. Here are some pictures for your eyes to feast on:

Lisa's Cat in the Hat Baby Shower

My lovely little Big Sister Lisa is having a baby boy sometime between now and the middle of September. I personally have bets on the following dates: Sept 6, 7, 8 and 9. Us Littles are always early so I'm pretty certain the prize money is mine. I've already spent it, so I sure hope so.

Last weekend we threw Lisa (and La Babe) a Cat in the Hat themed baby shower. I designed and printed Dr Seuss themed shower invites with the help of my mommy. We went party supply hunting and hit the jackpot at Michael's with some Cat in the Hat paraphernalia such as a 6 foot tall Cat in the Hat poster and party hats (which nobody ended up wearing - boo).

The girls and I spent too many hours the day before baking up a storm. Brownies, chocolate cupcakes with vanilla butter cream frosting dyed blue to resemble Thing 1 and Thing 2, and sugar cookies iced in red white and blue. That's three batches of baking and three sets of frosting, which is a whole lot of dirty bowls and counter tops. Don't worry, Amanda made sure it was all clean long before we were done :) such a good housewife that girl is!

Lisa's best friend made 3 super amazing banners in Cat in the Hat style which we strung up around the living room - I can't even describe how pretty they were. Amanda ordered a Cat in the Hat themed cake which was mind bogglingly awesome. I peed my pants a little when i saw it. The cake sported a quote that said "A person's a person no matter how small.". cute, right?

I came out in costume when we were playing games and we all had a good laugh. The kids were mostly just scared of me. Hmmm... perhaps I will wear that costume all the time as a child-deterrent. uhmm just kidding, I'm not that evil.

I'd like to say I met some cool new people, but I spent most of my time in front of the oven watching things bake and then taste testing them. I then had to sneak out early to drive Jwolfs to the ferry, which means I missed the embarrassing party hat made of of bows and ribbons. It also means I missed the cleaning up- darn, my favorite part!

Overall great party. Super excited for the baby to come. Super excited to see him in all his new outfits and to NOT change diapers. Here's some photos. Get ready to be jealous:

Backwards Day

Every once in a while, I like to throw myself a curve ball. Now, I don't play baseball so I really don't know how to throw a curve ball in real life, nor do I know if it's even possible to throw yourself one. I imagine not. Luckily it's just a saying and I need not throw any balls at all. So, this proverbial curve ball I'm speaking of today is......wait for it...... Backwards Day!

I woke up feeling a little strange (stranger than usual) and decided that was a sign that today was a good day for some self-made entertainment. I'm not 12 so I'm not wearing my clothes backwards or walking backwards all day, I'm much more sophisticated than that *blows bubbles in her milk*.

My enjoyment for shaking these things up stems back from high school when my basketball coach challenged us to do things with our left hand instead of our right. Have you ever tried opening the fridge with your left hand? It's mind boggling and easily results in injury. All the same, it's a really great challenge and I learned how to open the fridge with my left hand. It made me realize how many things we do subconsciously with little or no active thinking involved.

So I started Backward Day'ing with breakfast. Oatmeal is my daily fare, I don't even consider any other breakfast foods Monday-Friday. This morning, I added all the ingredients in the opposite order I normally do. Banana FIRST, followed by milk, cinnamon, Splenda, walnuts and oats. I was really nervous this was going to ruin breakfast, but lo and behold- same deliciousness as per usual. In the shower I shaved my legs AND THEN washed my hair. I did my makeup BEFORE brushing my teeth. No holds barred! When I got to work (I drove here in reverse of course) I made a pot of coffee without putting any coffee in the filter. Zing! How backwards is that?! OK OK... I'm just an idiot and forgot to put the coffee in. Sometimes I need a cup of coffee to get my brain working enough to figure out how to make a cup of coffee. Today was one of those days.

It's early yet, but I can tell you that I am going to do some crazy backwards things today and here's an idea - you should too! Perhaps throw some left handed tasks out there !sdrawkcab epyt ebyaM. Going grocery shopping? Do the store in the opposite order you normally do- meat aisle first, produce last! Have breakfast food for dinner, but make sure you have desert first. Check your email Top to Bottom. Get crazy, people! Happy Backwards Wednesday.

Oh and I flipped this picture horizontally so this is Backwards Shelly. A sight to behold.

UPIs

Unidentified Party Injuries: Many years ago I picked up this saying from a bloke in Australia. Yep, boys are blokes in the land of Oz. It's not my favorite word, but I like to stretch my vocab and if I have to go international to make it happen, so be it. SO BE IT, i say!

Unidentified Party Injury, or UPIs as I affectionately like to call them, are the war wounds from a good night out. Mine are most always in the form of bruises- I often look like the victim of a bad car accident. Broken nails, scratches and cuts all make the list of accepted UPIs. Most often, there is no recollection of how these injuries came to be. Hold on Carly Rae's Call Me Maybe is on.. must dance.

And I'm back.

I would like to add a sub category of UPIs. I think I can do that as I pretty much own the rights to the word. Pretty sure it's not even a valid addition, but again, it's my blog and I can do as I like. *please note that I said that in a snotty British accent.

With the power vested in me (by no one) I proclaim Lost Items to officially fall under UPIs. The only reason I even am broaching this is essentially so I could segue into telling you about my really terrible streak of losing things lately. A confession perhaps it could be considered.

Two weekends ago I got slightly boozy and lost my clutch. No wallet, no cell phone, no lip gloss for TWO DAYS! I was super duper lucky and it was found and I got it couriered back to me. Everything intact, pretty amazing. Total happy ending on that one, which means that I totally didn't learn any kind of lesson. Clearly - considering last night I somehow managed to lose my wallet AGAIN (that makes 2 out of 3 weekends). We went on a boat cruise Saturday and ended up at a friends house and the bar afterwards. A full 12 hours of drinking, it would be fair to say that I had a few- like thirty - drinks too many. So many bad choices. I ended up with a mad (or perhaps disappointed, which is way worse) boyfriend; no idea where my wallet had gone to; and a missing bathroom bag. PS i AM super sorry, Nick.

Man oh man. Waking up with a pile of regrets, still dressed in last night's clothes and remembering the idiot face I proved myself to be the previous evening sure makes for a less than sunshiney Sunday morning. I took stock of my UPIs and found some pretty impressive bruises, a cut on my finger from a shotgunning stint gone wrong, and a lump on the back of my head from unknown origin. Unfortunately it's impractical to spend the entire day in *face palm* position, so I had to live with myself and continue on.

After checking around for my wallet (to no avail), we watched the musical portion of the Olympic Closing Ceremonies - super enjoyable -and then I moseyed on home and proceeded to berate myself and then went to bed early.

The next morning I awoke to a message from Johnny saying he had my wallet and bathroom bag. I flew out of bed and did a little jig. ... what? never seen me jig before? It's a sight to behold- lemme tell ya! Another lesson gone unlearned. Although I AM actively trying to figure out a way to not lose my stuff when I go out drinking. So far I have no solutions. Someone suggested I try drinking LESS. I filed that under Nahhhhhhhhhhhh.

Coinkydinks

Coincidences, or co-inky-dinks as my grandma likes to call them, really freak me out. My initial reaction is usually Wow - that's neat! But after thinking and eventually dissecting the coincidence, I get slightly uneasy. I think this is one of the reasons I should probably get Cable TV, as I would have a lot less time to freak myself out with nonsensical thinking. At the same time, I would have a lot less time for baking, which would probably lead to less blogging, and a noticeable drop in my likability factor. Don't worry friends, family and co-workers, I'm too addicted to recipe collecting and chocolate to quit baking.

Back to the topic at hand- coincidences, which for those of you who don't know, is defined as: A chance occurrence of events remarkable either for being simultaneous or for apparently being connected.

At work yesterday, a client asked after a retired employee of ours (Paul) and said to pass along their hello. I hadn't thought of Paul in ages, so thought it would be nice to send a catch-up email. He responds back saying all is well, blah blah blah. When I got home from work, I went on facebook and lo and behold, Paul's face is on my Recommended Friends List. Now, I thought this could be some kind of sneaky facebook thing, but I was using a different computer, so I can't imagine how that would work (suspicious by nature, I am). The next day at work, out of the blue, my boss mentions Paul to me, saying he had been talking about him recently. Weird!

AND THEN I had another coincidence happen yesterday. I texted Jess to see what she was up to and she told me she was baking oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. At that exact moment I had just finished making oatmeal chocolate chip cookie dough. And no, I hadn't mentioned to her that I was planning on making cookies, nor she to me. SUPER WEIRD.

REVISED: I totally forgot to add in the main reason I started writing this post. I found out the other day that Katie In India (yes that's what I call her these days) is reading the same book as I am. A book I had never heard about until I borrowed it from Nick's roommate on his reccomendation. This book is amazing and I was planning on passing it along to KTII when she returned, and then I discovered via Facebook that she is reading it right now too. Coincidence? I think so. Spoooky? Not really. maybe if the book was about a ghost or something. Or if my house suddenly became haunted. Uhm. ya...moving along....
Since, I'm pretty sure you expect it. I did some research and found The 20 Most Amazing Coincidences and picked my favorite two, although there were lots of WTF ones in there. Here they are:

A falling baby, saved twice by the same man
In Detroit sometime in the 1930s, a young (if incredibly careless) mother must have been eternally grateful to a man named Joseph Figlock. As Figlock was walking down the street, the mother's baby fell from a high window onto Figlock. The baby's fall was broken and both man and baby were unharmed. A stroke of luck on its own, but a year later, the very same baby fell from the very same window onto poor, unsuspecting Joseph Figlock as he was again passing beneath. And again, they both survived the event. (Source: Mysteries of the Unexplained)

A writer, found the book of her childhood
While American novelist Anne Parrish was browsing bookstores in Paris in the 1920s, she came upon a book that was one of her childhood favorites - Jack Frost and Other Stories. She picked up the old book and showed it to her husband, telling him of the book she fondly remembered as a child. Her husband took the book, opened it, and on the flyleaf found the inscription: "Anne Parrish, 209 N. Weber Street, Colorado Springs." It was Anne's very own book. (Source: While Rome Burns, Alexander Wollcott)

Super side note- the Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies I baked yesterday are delicious and the recipe can be found here. I had a super baking extravaganza and also made Banana Carrot Walnut muffins which are a huge hit with my taste buds and definitely have my endorsement. Recipe here if you'd like it. Pictures below, if you care. That is all. XO shelly.

nom nom nom.

Watsons (not so) Great Escape

Silence greeted me this morning -no meowing cat demanding breakfast at 5:30AM. Hmm, wonderfully interesting, I thought to myself. I then proceeded to get ready for work and it wasn't until I was getting dressed it that  hit me that watson still had not made an appearance. I'm thinking she's still sleeping, and proceeded to check any and all hiding spots.

Nada. Nowhere. I lean over my balcony and check to see if Wendy's door is open- it's closed. I take a cursory glance below the balcony and don't see any furry remnants. I call her name and shake her food to no avail. I check the hallway. Nothing.  I'm thinking the only logical explanation is that she's slept over at Wendy's or has gotten inadvertently locked in there. I email neighbour Wendy, subject line: Watson's Whereabouts. I ask if they had been hanging out this morning. I leave for work and get on with my day.

Lunch time rolls around. I check my emails and there is a reply from Wendy stating that she kicked Watson out last night at about 8 and hasn't seen her since. Insert pale face followed immediately by a look up, trying not to cry face. I had a work errand to do, so I left the office, dropped some stuff off and raced home. I head to the back of the building, all the while searching for the Watsonator. I check the bushes under my area of the building and don't see anything. Crushed. I'm pretty sure she's run away from home. I design a Lost Kitten poster in my head.

I continue to search the bushes along the walkway and suddenly I see a gray and white furry blob. Insert puke face. I call out a tentative "Watson?" and hold my breath. A small little meow is her reply. A flood of relief flows through me and I tromp through the (rather prickly) bushes in my (not super long) dress. She is hunkered down against the wall looking super terrified. I kneel down and move up to her slowly as I'm scared she's going to bolt and also that she might be hurt. I kind of give her a pokey jab to see what her response will be. No cry or hiss or much of anything, so I take it as a good sign and haul her up into my arms and run into the building.

In the stairwell, she launches herself from my arms and runs into the corner. Huge scratch across my stomach- ouch. lucky i am super in love with her at his point and I do not get mad. I collect her and manage to get my condo door open before she does another flying leap away from me. Scratch number two. insert swear word.

The first thing she does is walk up to the patio door, which i promptly close in her furry little face. I shake her food bowl and she runs to it and starts chowing down. I give Watson her obligatory brushing. I pretty much only brush her while she is eating. I started this habit as I realized that while she is eating she is too busy to attack me, so the brushing is usually a painless event.

I head out the door to go back to work, quickly sending Wendy an email to let her know that Watson is OK. She lets me know that she would be happy to take her to the vet and pay any vet bills. I thank her for her very kind offer but reiterate that Watson is unhurt. I decide to let Watson once again roam the balcony, so that Wendy can see for herself that the Miss is alive and well. I heard them chatting outside, so I think Wendy is appeased.

Since her escape, the furry girl pretty much won't leave me alone. I think she realized how awesome she has it up here on the third floor with a pretty decent mom and super great surrogate neighbour mom! I think we will go cuddle in bed now.

xo. shelly & watson.
PS. Stay tuned for the unavoidable, but surely entertaining Future Adventures of Miss Watson!

Christmas in July.

Oh.... you don't celebrate Christmas in July? *insert awkward silence. I would explain it to you, but I don't think you're ready for it.

We are a Christmas family. This past Christmas we switched things up and went to Mexico. I will take the liberty to speak for the rest of the family and say it was the best trip ever, but that we all felt a little Christmas-blues. No turkey on Christmas? It's blasphemous. I'm pretty sure Jesus would frown upon that. We had Italian food. it was delicious. It absolutely did not taste like Christmas. We spent the day drinking margaritas at the beach, seadooing and playing (and winning) bar games. Carol, god bless her, found us a mini pink and purple Christmas tree. She decked them with smarties balls, which was mind blowing! Smarties balls are a total re-hash scenario from the only other Christmas the Little's spent away from home- Whistler circa 10 years ago -another Christmas fail. The only part about our Mexican Christmas that felt like the holidays was the hangover I felt in the morning!

And all that rambling brings me to the point of my story...we need a DO OVER on Christmas, and no, we absolutely can not wait until December to make this happen. Christmas in July, folks! The second annual! Attended by various friends and family, this event features a FULL TURKEY DINNER and a sick amount of Christmas baked goods. I am hoping that someone either finds egg nog or goes to town and makes it from scratch!

 I was super excited at the prospect of breaking out my Xmas cookie cutters again and was debating between gingerbread and shortbread. Unfortunately, I was told that cookies were taken, so I defaulted to cupcakes. Red Velvet Cupcakes with Vanilla Butter cream. Total cheater cupcakes- I used a box cake mix and doctored up store bought frosting. I will not let you hold that against me, they are adorable and allowed me to also get my car washed and laundry done tonight!

THE SECOND ANNUAL CHRISTMAS IN JULY CELEBRATION IS UPON US! Coming up this Saturday, I am stoked for delicious treats, turkey, fake Christmas trees, and out of season decorations! Tis the (fake) season! Happy holidays. xo.

Behold.

Michelle's Christmas in July Red Velvet Cupcakes.